#Alex Lug

[vectorneon]

Ya pueden disfrutar el video oficial de Alex Lug "Placer" en YouTube, y sigan gozando la canción en Spotify.

[hairyjocktf]

Greek Vacation

It was finally June, and Alex could barely sleep. He’d worked his ass off the last year in college to avoid having to take summer classes, which meant he could join the rest of his family on their trip to Greece. His mom had apparently won tickets or miles or something through her job, he couldn’t remember. All that mattered was he was going to Greece! It was finally time to relax and unwind from the insanely stressful last few months. He’d gone over his packing list six, seven times now; he was absolutely sure he was ready. His family was meeting him at the airport, so he was just pacing now, waiting on that text to start moving. The phone on the countertop buzzed and he lunged for it. It was time.

Alex grabbed his oversized suitcase and lugged it down the stairs of his apartment building out to the street. He hopped on the bus and found a seat. He was giddy, this trip was his dream trip as a kid, and now he was finally getting to go. He’d helped plan out their whole itinerary, from the Acropolis to the ruins at Delphi and so so many more. Before he knew it, they were dropping him at the airport. Inside the chaotic lobby he managed to spot his parents, his dad was already wearing a massive sun hat which helped. The next hour was a blur getting their bags checked, through security, and corralling everyone to the gate. Then began the longest part of the trip: the flight. Alex had brought noise canceling headphones and an extra strong dose of melatonin that he prayed would do the job. And miraculously, it did. Nearly ten hours later he woke up to the sounds of the plane landing, and next thing he knew they were in a cab headed into Athens.

The cab pulled up to their hotel, depositing them and their bags at the foot of a beautiful white building with a grand entrance. This part was his mother’s domain. She ushered everyone inside and got them to their room in no time. Alex was unpacking and setting his stuff out when he realized he couldn’t find his phone charger. He tore everything out of his suitcase and backpack, trying desperately to find it. Nothing. He must’ve left it in his haste getting out the door, after all his phone was plugged in while he was waiting. 

Shit, he thought, before solemnly announcing the news to his family.

“We’ll stop by a store or something and get you a new one, it's fine,” his mother said, buried in her own suitcase. What a start to the trip. Alex sat on the side of his bed looking out the window at the building next door, kicking his legs waiting for them to get going. Finally, after another 30 minutes, they were getting back out the door. 

Alex and his family started wandering through the massive metropolis of Athens, surrounded by white buildings and the intense noise of a city. Only a few blocks away they came upon a massive street market, with locals selling everything imaginable. Fruits, street food, bags, shirts, phones, you name it. Surely, Alex thought, they would sell a phone charger here. He squeezed up and down through tight corridors of shops, flooded with people. He was deep into the market when his path was blocked with a crowd. He turned around, only to find the way he came in also packed tight with tourists. He was stuck. As panic started to set in, Alex heard a deep, husky voice from the stall behind him.

“You there, tourist boy,” the voice said, and Alex whipped around to see a large man with dark olive skin, and the hairiest body he’d ever seen. It was on his fingers, hands, forearms, and crawled out of his open shirt solidly up to the thick bushy beard on his face that nearly hid all his features. Alex was frozen, taking in the sight of this man. He was snapped out of his daze by the man speaking again.

“You look tired, boy. Did you just arrive?” he looked Alex in the eyes.

Alex was jumbling his words, “Uh, yes, yea I did. But I slept! I shouldn’t be tired.. I don’t think…” 

The man grabbed his hand and pulled it towards him. “Here boy, this will help you,” he said in his thick accent. He took out a small beaded bracelet and slipped it onto Alex’s wrist, tying it tight. 

“Uhh, thanks?” Alex remarked, a little confused about the whole situation. The moment was interrupted by his mother’s voice piercing through the crowd.

“Alex!! Alex!! Are you over here?” Alex jerked his head towards the voice, starting to back away from the man.

“Enjoy your trip, boy,” the man said, releasing his arm and giving a slight wave. Alex turned away and pushed through the throng of people in his way, eventually reaching his mother.

“Alex! Thank god you’re okay, we lost you immediately. Here, we found someone selling chargers,” she handed him a cord, not even noticing the bracelet on his wrist. “Alright, let’s get back on track today, shall we?” she put some pep in her voice. As the family squeezed through the crowded Athenian streets, Alex failed to notice a slight itch where the bracelet clung to his wrist.

The summer sun beat down on them as they slowly made their way up the hills of Athens. Alex was sweating buckets, the back of his shirt absolutely drenched. He looked over in envy at his dad’s sun hat that he had mocked earlier. After what felt like an eternity, they made it to the base of the acropolis. Alex’s dad groaned at the sight of not only immense crowds, but another massive rock they had to climb. Alex was undeterred however, his eyes lit up with the sight of the ruins atop the hill. This was what he’d been waiting for, and he let nothing get in his way as he dragged his family into the crowd to get closer. The slight itch under the bracelet continued, unbeknownst to Alex. His skin under it was darkening to an olive shade, slowly creeping up his arm and down towards his hand. Where the darker tone had spread, hairs began popping up, thick black hairs in contrast to his light brown wispy hairs. They continued to sprout, growing in between the last, creating a dense, curly coat. The back of his hand was next, the same black hairs wriggling out. Soon enough, his forearm stuck out like a sore thumb next to the rest of his pale body, yet no one seemed to notice.

The next couple hours were heaven for Alex. He explored the acropolis with his family, pointing out everything he’d researched and explaining even more. Between the numerous ruins and museums, the rest of the day was jam packed with artifacts. Alex even found himself remembering facts about spots he didn’t remember researching. The other constant of the day was the sun. It beat down on them from above with the full force of a Mediterranean summer, sweat constantly dripping from his forehead. It seemed like significantly more than usual for Alex, but he chalked it up to the different climate, and how much they’d been walking. Under his soaked shirt, however, his body was adapting. The deep olive color had spread all the way up his arm, with the forest of hair following, coating his upper arm. The hairs crawled over his inflating shoulder, sprinkling it with black wisps. His bicep has also grown substantially, almost like he was a regular gym-goer, matching his now beefier hand and forearm.

The sun-kissed shade continued to spread, imposing itself over his chest. Not long after, his chest began growing. It pushed out two meaty pecs, skin stretching to accommodate the immense muscles growing in slowly. His chest was sore as years of workouts applied themselves at once. The crisp definition melted somewhat as his form softened, fat layering itself onto his chest and further down as a thick muscle gut grew in. His stomach pressed tight against his shirt, stretching it to its limit. As the muscle pushed out of his frame, so did the hairs. Small black hairs began rearing their heads around his growing nipples, pushing out like thick shoots of grass. The hairs radiated away from his nipples, surging across the open fields of his pectorals, burying them in a black, curly forest. They grew longer and thicker, matting together into a rug across his chest that scratched against his shirt. The fur coat grew denser in the center of his pecs and right below, making them look like real pillow cushions. His gut tingled as the hairs began erupting, swirling together and giving his belly a thick black coat to match. By the time Alex and his family were headed to dinner it looked like he’d eaten plenty, putting on dozens of pounds.

They sat down at a street-side restaurant that Alex had recommended, exhausted after a very active first day. While they browsed the menu, Alex scratched loosely at an itch above the neckline of his shirt. The wave of darker skin tone had slowly been inching up his neck, leading a wave of black hairs. His chest fur had overtaken his collarbone and continued to spread. His neck remained bare until, suddenly, a single dark hair sprouted above his shirt. It was black, thick, and curly. Seconds later, a second hair joined it, shooting out from his shirt collar.  More and more began sprouting, giving Alex a thick dark tuft of hair curling over his shirt. This was just the beginning, though. The dark hairs climbed up his neck, following the wave of olive complexion. Alex’s lean face cracked as it widened, jaw growing thick and square. His brow jutted out and his nose grew more prominent as his face took on the darker tone. His wavy brown hair pulled back some, turning black and more curly. The itching grew as a shadow developed across his jaw, darkening as thick stubble emerged from the bare skin. The scruff seemed to age Alex up a good few years, he seemed like a real adult with the stubble, hairy forearms, and chest hair pushing out of his shirt.

As they ate, Alex briefed his parents on their plan for the next day, starting with an early bus out to Delphi. He already knew the exact times, costs, and routes to take for the perfect day. His parents were impressed at how well researched he was, not noticing the dark scruff covering their son’s face. They finished up dinner and caught a cab home, knowing they had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day.

The next morning came quickly, and with some disgruntled grumbling from his parents, they were off on their bus to Delphi. It was a three hour trip, so they settled into their seats and his parents tried to get a little more rest. Alex stared eagerly out the window, watching the mountains rush past with the sea behind. As the ride went on, he found himself shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like his body was agitated and he couldn’t figure out why. He tried to focus on the beautiful scenery and the maps of their destination instead. In reality, beneath his clothes, the slow moving wave of Mediterranean skin had crossed his muscle gut and reached his groin. It swept through his crotch, seeding the growth of new hair. His existent bush was sparse, and was quickly engulfed by the torrent of dark curly hairs that erupted from the base of his cock, spreading outward. Black hairs wormed out of his skin like weeds coating the entire area, pushing up towards his navel in a triangle pattern, and out onto his thighs.

Alex tried to subtly scratch at the area as the itching grew intense, using his map to hide his meaty hands groping the area. His flaccid cock absorbed the same olive color, and a thick foreskin stretched itself back over the head. It didn’t stay soft for long, engorging and pushing six, seven, eight inches in his pants. Alex shifted again to try and keep comfortable in his seat, but the growing rod was not helping him, leaving a massive imprint on his shorts. His bush continued to thicken, hairs sprouting between others, curling together into an impenetrable forest. The hairs even started climbing the base of his cock, popping out a ways up. There was a thud on the seat when Alex’s balls suddenly inflated to the size of baseballs, his sack growing furry as the same curly black hairs engulfed them. Alex had spread his legs as much as he could, he was practically on top of the guy in the seat next to him, and he was still feeling squeezed. He was about to reach his limit when the bus came to a stop. They had made it.

Like it was instinct, Alex gathered his parents and started their exploration of the site. He took them to the Temple of Apollo, the museum, and the spring. It was another relentlessly hot day, and within minutes he had started sweating buckets. He ignored it to continue guiding his parents around, but it began to take a toll. Underneath his arms, his paltry smattering of hair was starting to soak up some color, growing thicker and darker. The more sweat dripped from his pits the more hair began to shoot out of them, catching the drops and adding to the stench that began to waft from him. Throughout the morning, more and more hairs poked out from under his arms. His beefy arms weren’t able to hide the enormous tufts of hair that were pushing out of his pits, kept nice and damp from the heat. 

They stopped briefly for lunch at a spot Alex knew and recommended, taking a break from the heat before they continued walking through the town. Alex scratched at his face, his fingers pulling through a little more hair than they had the night before. The meal was a nice reprieve, showcasing some delicious local cuisine to his parents. He took the chance to explain their next destinations, and before long they were back walking up the hills. Alex was glad he’d worn shorts today, it was brutal even for June. His exposed legs had begun taking on the same tone as the rest of him, no longer standing out as pale twigs. Curly hairs brushed against his shorts as they grew en masse, traveling from his pubes downward. The hairs pushed out of his growing thighs, a burgeoning field of dark curls spreading across them. His calves experienced the same, putting on size before getting engulfed with black hair.

They’d made it to the stadium and viewpoint at the top. Alex left the couple to take in the vista and address his current problem; his shoes were way too tight. Luckily, it seemed he’d worn sandals for the day. He bent over to loosen the straps, giving some breathing room to his now size 15 feet, not noticing the coarse hairs popping out across the tops of them. Even his toes were hairy now. He stood back up and looked out over the valley, scratching his ass that had been a little itchy. The same thick curly hairs had started bursting out of his crack, creating a furry mass between his cheeks. The hairs spread out, growing like weeds over the expanse of his ass. The sweat dripping down his widening back helped the hairs take root, and they shot upward sprouting from the small of his back. His lats grew darker as black fur erupted before climbing up to his neck and blending with the thick coating on his shoulders. The coarse curly hairs grew dense and long enough to push his damp shirt nearly an inch away from his body all around. Curly black hairs poked out of the back of his shirt collar too, mirroring the front side.

The sun had begun to hang lower in the sky, signaling it time to head back to the bus station. Alex’s legs had bulked up enough to handle the constant walking up and down, as he should be used to it by now. He guided the couple back down to the town and they got on their way back to Athens, another multi-hour journey. He felt his seat was even smaller this time, his body having swelled with muscle and mass throughout the day. As the bus bumped along the mountain roads, Alex stared at his reflection in the window. His short beard was pushing out. Hairs grew longer, curling together. More hairs sprouted to fill the gaps, climbing higher on his cheeks. The beard grew incredibly dense, adding another couple years to his face. He finally gave in and scooted over, taking up both seats. The bulky man then closed his eyes for an hour until the familiar noise of Athens began leaking through the windows. 

They stopped at the station, and he grabbed the couple’s bags from the rack. WIth that motion, his short sleeve shirt that had been taught against his massive chest all day gave out, bursting open. His thick chest and belly and the incredible rug that covered them were exposed, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for him, especially in the summer. He lugged the bags to the curb and handed them over. The woman was exhausted looking, but still had a beaming smile.

“Oh, thank you so much Alexios! You’ve been amazing these last two days.” He swallowed, a large adam’s apple bulging out of his throat, “You’re very welcome. Enjoy the rest of your visit to Greece,” he said with a baritone voice and accent.

The man handed him a large stack of bills as a thank you, and the two headed off towards their hotel. Alexios sighed, it had been an exhausting day. And after all that, he needed to prepare for the new tourists he was to guide the next day.

Hey y'all, I was going to start on the poll story but it's been so close I couldn't predict it! So enjoy this race change tf in the mean time. Speaking of which, if you havent yet, go vote in the poll for the next story! There's still 2 days left.

[rorylovesangst]

A Burning Hill

construction worker/underground fighter simon riley x waitress

mood board

song of the chapter is Pretend by Alex G

tws: sh injury, physical discomfort, violence

previous chapter → chapter 4 -> next chapter

word count: ~3.5k

You’re sick as a dog. Panting and slimy in your creaky bed, blanket kicked and crumpled to the footboard. The burn on your chest is swollen, angry, and oozing under the makeshift bandages Olive swathed you in days ago. Ronny has called you at least five times, each ring prising you from the fragile cocoon of restless sleep you’ve managed to weave. Your phone buzzes now, taunting you from the dresser. Just a mere few feet away. A short reach.

You stretch out your hand, your fingers twitching, aching for just one more inch of reach, hoping—praying—that your arm might suddenly grow longer. Long enough to brush the phone. Long enough to silence it. But every attempt leaves you with a limp hand dangling over the side of your bed and a hollow, wheezy sigh  escaping your lips.

Olive sent you home yesterday. She took one look at your sunken eyes, pale complexion, the way you swayed on your feet as you knotted your apron, and didn’t give you a choice. “I’ll cover your shifts,” she said, her tone tolerating no argument. “Until you’re looking more like a human being than a ghost.”

The thought comes to you slowly, sluggishly, like a heavy tide creeping in: Maybe this is an easy way out. Just stay here. Let the fever do its work. Let the infection take over, creeping through your veins like rust on old pipes. Rot away in your bed until the light above drinks you up. 

How pathetic. Dying of an infection from a self-inflicted burn. Too scared to do the job yourself, so you let the elements finish it for you. Let them break you down, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left to recognize.

Suddenly, a knock rattles through the silence, edged and obstinate, pulsing in your skull like a drumbeat. Your breath hitches, shallow and ragged, as if the sound itself has stolen the air from your lungs. Frozen in place, you don’t answer. You can’t. The weight of the fever presses down on you, but it’s the icy prickle of panic that locks your body in place. Your mind spins: Did someone find you? How? Each knock feels denser than the last, and a thousand explanations churn in your head.

The phone on the dresser buzzes again—another call from Ronny—and for a moment, you wonder if it’s connected, if somehow he’s sent someone here to lug you back to a life you’ve worked so hard to enshroud. Your pulse croons in your ears, every nerve on edge, waiting for what comes next.

Then, a voice muzzled by the door: “Blue, it’s Riley.”

You almost laugh—if you could find the strength. Riley. You think about his crooked nose, the way he speaks without hurry, like the world will wait for him to finish. A construction jacket and a coffee order. That’s all you know.

Another knock. Blairing this time. “I know you’re in there. Olive told me.” 

Olive. That traitor.

Your hand sags off the side of the bed, fingers twitching toward the phone that buzzes again, its vibrations rattling the chipped wood of your nightstand. You try to form words, but they deteriorate before they leave your tongue.

And then you hear it: the soft click of the front door. The scuffle of boots on your entryway floor. He’s inside.

“Blue?” His voice moves through the house like it belongs there, moored but heedful, as though he’s navigating a minefield. You want to yell, to tell him to leave, but all you manage is a puny groan that catches in your throat.

It doesn’t take him long to find you.

“Jesus Christ.”

He’s a haze in the doorway of your room, framed by peeling paint and sagging drywall. His shadow stretches across the floor, falling just short of your bed. You squint, trying to push away the fog in your eyes, and there he is. Tall, broad, the hem of his faded green jacket brushing his thighs. The material strains slightly at the shoulders when he crosses his arms, the soft crinkle of the paper bag in one hand breaking the tense silence.         

“Olive said you ‘aven’t been answerin’ her texts. Sent me to check on you,” he grumbles, stepping further into the room. His gaze sweeps over you—hair slick to your forehead, barely clothed, glowering—before landing on the burn. Raw. Oozing. Pleading. His lips press into a thinner line.

“She said you weren’t takin’ care o’ yourself. Thought maybe she was exaggeratin’,” he mutters, setting the bag on your nightstand. The red of the burn cream box catches your eye. “Lemme see it.”

Your head shakes feebly against the pillow. “No.”

“Fine. I’ll jus’ call Olive. Get ‘er over here.”

“No, no!” You want to sound flinty, but your voice is crazing and brambly. “You can’t tell her. She’ll hate herself—hate herself for not noticing. Please, please don’t.” You’re out of breath, your hand that was limply hanging over the bed now holding onto the fabric of his jeans.

He sighs, dragging his hand down his face. “I won’ tell her. But you hav’ to show me. I don’t believe that its fine.”

“The fuck would you know? I am fine.” You screw your eyes shut, wishing that when you open them, he is gone.

“Sure,” he drawls, squatting beside the bed. His presence is overwhelming, the scent of cedar and smoke luxuriant in the close space. “Sweatin’ like it’s a thousand degrees in ‘ere. Burnin’ up.” His hand moves, wiping the damp hair from your forehead, palm sultry against your molten skin. “Not to mention I can smell it. But yeah, let’s pretend you’re just peachy.”

“Fuck you,” you carp, turning your face away.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, his dark eyes scintillating with something like amusement. “Now sit up. If you can.”

You glare at him, a mix of dissent and exhaustion guttering in your fevered eyes, but you don’t argue. Not verbally, anyway. Instead, you brace your quavering arms against the mattress and push. The muscles in your shoulders scream in protest, your elbows wobbling under the weight of your own body. It’s a pitiful attempt, and you hate how much of that struggle he sees.

Before you can slumping back, his large hands are on you—steady, firm. His arms slink under yours, lifting you with ease, as if you weigh nothing more than the blanket tangled around your legs. His chest skims yours as he sets you against the headboard, and for a moment, you feel the surprising gentleness beneath the bulk of his strength, that faint cushion of chub that makes his size even more intimidating. His heat lingers even after he steps back.

“You’re not gonna yell at me for doin’ it myself?” His voice is low, imbued with dry humor as he glances at you.

“Shut up,” you mutter blandly, bending further into the headboard. The cool wood presses against your spine, a stark contrast to the fire licking at your chest.

Simon doesn’t press further. He reaches for the roll of bandages wrapped haphazardly around your chest, the adhesive tainted with sweat and… something worse. His thick fingers, marked with scars and nicks, work carefully to peel them away.

“Gonna sting,” he warns, glancing up at you, his dark eyes searching your face as if gauging how much you can take.

“No shit,” you sneer, though your voice lacks its bite.

The first pull makes you flinch, your head snapping forward on instinct. His free hand pinions gently against your shoulder, keeping you in place without force.

“Easy,” he murmurs, his voice softening in a way that almost makes you wince more than the pain. “I got you.”

You don’t respond. Can’t. The adhesive wrenches at your raw skin, ripping a low hiss from your lips. Simon pauses, glancing at you again, but you wave him on. The quicker it’s over, the better.

The bandage finally comes free, leaving your burn displayed to the cool air. A fresh wave of pain flourishes in its wake, sudden and throbbing, making you gasp. Simon grimaces, his lips pressing into a hard line as he takes in the furious, provoked wound.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, his brow furrowing deeply. “That’s worse than I thought.”

Your stomach froths at his tone. “It’s not—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, his voice sharper now. He tosses the stained bandages into the paper bag before pulling out the burn cream and gauze. “You need more than this shit,” he grumbles under his breath, shaking the cream tube. “You need a fuckin’ doctor.”

“I said no hospital,” you snap, though the words come out weaker than you want. “No doctors. No Olive.”

He leans back on his heels, staring at you like he’s trying to decide whether to argue. Up close, his crooked nose casts a slight shadow on his face, and his lips part, only for him to close them again in frustration. His fingers tap against his thigh, the faint smell of cedarwood and smoke mixing with the metallic tang of your wound.

“Fine,” he says finally, the word heavy. “But you’re gonna let me clean this up proper. No arguing, no whining, no tellin’ me to fuck off. Got it?”

You nod, too jaded to fight.

“Good,” he mutters, leaning closer as he unscrews the cap of the cream. He scoops a dollop onto his finger and pauses, his eyes flickering to yours. “This is gonna hurt.”

“It already hurts,” you reply hoarsely, your voice more resigned than bold now.

His hand, warm and steady, presses against your skin, the cool cream a sharp contrast to the burning heat radiating from the infection. The pain grinds for a moment, making you wince and fist the sheets, but his touch is oddly precise, methodical. You feel every callous on his fingers as he works, but his hands never falter, never shake.

“Still breathin’?” he asks after a long moment, his voice lighter, almost playful.

“Barely,” you manage, earning a faint grin from him.

When he’s done, he wraps fresh gauze around your chest, his fingers unexpectedly gentle as they secure it in place. He steps back, surveying his work with a critical eye, his broad shoulders blocking the dim light of your bedroom.

“There,” he says, standing to his full height, his presence towering over you again. “Better than it was, but you need to keep it clean. No more half-assin’ it.” His voice relaxes slightly, though his words remain compressed. “And you’re gonna eat somethin’. I’ll grab somethin’ from the kitchen.”

“Bossy,” you gabble, letting your head fall back against the headboard.

“Someone’s gotta be,” he counters, the faintest hint of a smirk jerking at his lips as he turns and heads toward the door, the floorboards creaking under his heavy boots. The scent of cedarwood and smoke lingers behind him, a faint reminder of the storm of a man who’s somehow decided to fix you.

Simon returns less than ten minutes later, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he steps back into the room. In one hand, he’s holding a steaming bowl of soup; in the other, a plate with a single piece of buttered toast balanced precariously on the edge.

“Had to scrape together somethin’,” he mutters, setting the plate and bowl on your nightstand with a clatter. His dark eyes narrow as they flick over you, still slumped against the headboard. “You’ve got nothin’ in that fridge. I mean nothin’. How the hell are you not starvin’ to death?”

You don’t answer immediately, too busy concentrating on the smoke wafting off the soup. It smells faintly like chicken, or maybe just broth—nothing elaborate, but it stirs a hollow ache in your stomach you’d ignored was there in the first place.

Simon doesn’t wait for you to reply. “I found a half-empty jar of pickles, a loaf of bread that’s probably older than I am, and some butter that looks like it’s seen better days.” He crosses his arms, his bulk looming over you like a scolding parent. “You expect to live off that? What, you just sittin’ here waitin’ to waste away?”

You glare up at him weakly. “Wasn’t hungry,” you mutter, though even you don’t believe it. Your body practically wobbles with the need for sustenance.

“Bullshit,” he snaps, grabbing the plate and holding it in front of you. “Eat.”

You stare at the toast, mulishness flaring despite the gnawing in your gut. “I’m not a child.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he quips. “Only difference is, kids don’t usually try to kill themselves by neglectin’ a fuckin’ infection.”

With a sigh, you reach for the toast, your fingers trembling as you bring it to your mouth. The butter has melted unevenly, pooling in one corner, but it doesn’t matter. The first bite is bliss, the saltiness grounding you in a way that feels almost humiliating.

Satisfied, Simon turns to the soup. He dips the spoon in and holds it out to you. “Come on.”

“I can do it,” you say, but your attempt to take the bowl from him is so poor it barely counts.

“Sure you can,” he replies sarcastically, keeping a steady grip on it. “Open your mouth.”

You scowl but comply, taking the spoonful of broth he offers. It’s warm, salty, and comforting, soothing some of the ache in your chest that isn’t from the burn. He feeds you spoonful by spoonful, his patience unexpected given the size of his frame and the frankness of his demeanor.

“You’re a terrible patient,” he grumbles between bites. “Makin’ me play nurse ‘cause you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”

“You volunteered,” you point out weakly, though the retort lacks bane. The warmth of the food is lulling you into a foggy calm, and your eyelids start to feel heavy.

He shakes his head, scoffing softly. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

By the time the bowl is empty, you’re slinking lower into the mattress, the exhaustion from your fever pulling at you more demandingly now. Simon notices, his gaze softening slightly as he sets the empty bowl and plate aside. He stands, brushing his hands off on his jeans, and pulls the blanket up over you.

“You’re a bloody mess,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “Gotta figure out how to keep you alive long enough to fix that.”

His scent—cedarwood and smoke—lingers as he adjusts the blanket, making sure it covers you properly. You mumble something incoherent, your voice fading as sleep pulls you under.

When you finally drift off, your breathing slow and even, Simon lingers for a moment, watching. His broad shoulders sag slightly, the weight of something unspoken heavy in the air. Then, as silently as a man his size can manage, he slips out of the room with a quiet Pain in my ass. The front door clicks softly shut behind him, leaving behind only the faint traces of his scent and the warmth of his presence in the empty house.

He’s a shaken can of soda. Bottled up and eager to bubble and fizz over the edge at the first snap. His knuckles aren’t just bloody—they’re raw, split, and sparkling under the yellow warehouse lights. The wraps are long gone, shredded after the first round, leaving his bare hands to meet flesh and bone with nothing to soften the impact.  

The air down here is suffocating—thick with the stink of sweat, blood, and desperation. It clings to Simon’s skin like a reminder of where he belongs. Around him, the crowd churns, their voices a discordant purr of bets and roars, urging him forward like he’s nothing more than an animal in a pit.

He exhales slow, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his opponent looming like a freight train. The guy’s face is a mess—a swollen eye, split lip, blood streaking down his neck. Good. Simon’s done his work. But the man’s still standing, fists tight, chest heaving. Another swing could end it for either of them.

Simon feels the ache in his ribs. A rib is cracked—maybe two—but he pushes past it, lets it fuel the fire under his skin. Pain’s a language he knows better than most, and tonight he’s fluent.

But through the haze of bloodlust and adrenaline, a thought cuts through. You. The memory flickers, uninvited but sharp: you, curled up on that worn mattress, sweat gluing strands of hair to your temples, your voice small and tired when you said It doesn’t matter. I'm fine.

He hadn’t answered you then—hadn’t trusted himself to say something that wouldn’t make you retreat further into yourself. You’d looked so fragile, so wary of being seen like that. Vulnerable. Human. And yet, there was something in the way your eyes softened when he stayed, when he didn’t push too hard.

He adjusts his stance, shaking the thought loose. There’s no room for you here—not in this ring, not in this fight. But your image lingers, shadowing his movements like an echo of something he can’t quite name.

The signal comes—just a nod from Price—and Simon thrusts forward, fists flying, every ounce of pent-up rage and guilt exploding in raw, ruthless force. He lands a right hook that rocks his opponent back, the crunch of bone reverberating up his arm.

The guy swings back, wild and reckless, his fist grazing Simon’s jaw. It’s enough to make his ears ring, but he recovers fast, dodging low and countering with an uppercut that lands hard. The man stumbles, spit and blood spraying from his mouth as the crowd howls their approval.

For a moment, Simon falters—not physically, but somewhere deeper. He hears your voice again: It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. A lie so thin it was nearly transparent. How many times had he said the same thing to himself?

His opponent surges forward, and instinct takes over. Simon plants his feet, pivots, and throws everything he has into one last punch. His knuckles connect with the man’s temple, and it’s over.

The guy crumples to the ground, and the crowd erupts, a cacophony of cheers and stomping boots. Price is there almost immediately, clapping Simon on the back, his voice low and approving. “Good work,” he says, already turning away. “Now clean up and get outta here, I need you early tomorrow morning. New buildings and shit.”

Simon stands there, chest heaving, his vision swimming. The blood on his hands feels stickier than usual tonight. He doesn’t know why.

As he stumbles toward the shadows to catch his breath, your face drifts back to him again. Fragile, guarded, but alive in a way that this place never will be.

What the hell am I doing here?

The thought lingers, just long enough to sting. Then he shakes it off and sinks back into the noise.

[indigosunsetao3]

Older CIA Alex

NSFW | 18+ | Age gap/dad's employee/forbidden Please check AO3 for tags

Perspective: Female reader

We're going to work this like Ex-Husband Price where I expand on things here and there. I just had to get this listed out.

So much for 'next few days'. I swear these ideas will eat me alive if I don't write them out.

OCIA!Alex - Was in your father's office when you walked in to meet him for lunch. He rose from his chair the moment you entered, a sign of respect and also that he would be leaving. You give him a small smile which he returns before slipping out the door.

OCIA!Alex - Casually asks your dad about you, and how the lunch went, when he returns from an overseas mission weeks later. It's not very out of place, Alex is an observant man, but the fact it was over a month later and he recalled where you went to lunch together struck your dad as interesting.

OCIA!Alex - Accepts your father's offer to join a few of the group for dinner. Your father always extended the invite to his whole team which Alex declined each time with an excuse. Except this time when he finds out, you'll also be at this dinner. Your father questions his sudden change of heart to which Alex answers charity is important.

OCIA!Alex - Is careful to make sure he is seated next to you at the charity gala. He's in his dress blues looking polished and the attention he pays you has you flustered. All evening he keeps you engaged in conversation, pulls out your chair for you, and makes sure your glass is never empty. In an effort to make a friend you give Alex your number as if he didn't already have it, and your social media accounts, saved in one of his burners after a bit of digging so he could learn more about you. Your father notices the friendly exchanges and makes sure to have a conversation with his subordinate. (Lunch and Dinner Date can be found here)

OCIA!Alex - Barely bats an eye at the fact you are almost twelve years younger than him. What's age really when you were both adults? He's even less phased by the fact your father lets him know you're fresh out of a long-term relationship which is why you were living with him for the time being. That explains why Alex hadn't seen you before and why you subconsciously ran your thumb over your ring finger all evening to play with a ring that was no longer there. Your father warns him, in a casual but firm tone, that you are off limits; he kept family and work separate for a reason. Alex assures him he was just being friendly, Sir.

OCIA!Alex - Volunteers to assist you in moving to your new apartment in exchange for a couple of beers. You texted him out of desperation, no friends in town, and your father is not the young man he used to be. It was the first time you had messaged him, he had been waiting none too patiently. Alex agrees, he's got the time and it's an excuse to see you again. Your father would have been more suspicious of this if he wasn't relieved to not be the only person lugging your furniture up three flights of stairs. (Move In Day can be found here)

OCIA!Alex - Swings by when you send him a message at one in the morning that the AC unit is on the fritz. The landlord didn't deem it an emergency and your father was out of town. The apartment is beyond sweltering and there isn't even a breeze to help. It was more of a venting session, you had been talking more often via text through the past couple of weeks, but Alex takes it upon himself to give you a hand.

OCIA!Alex - Fixes the unit enough that it's at least blowing semi-cool air. He insists on hanging around to make sure it doesn't go out again, promising it's not a problem. "Too hot to try and sleep without some air." You offer him some leftover pizza before joining him on the couch, a good distance away because it's too hot. Yet somehow you end up with your feet resting in his lap and his fingers massaging out the soreness from wearing heels all day. (Midnight Maintenance can be found here)

OCIA!Alex - Texts you even when he's gone overseas. He's polite in his timing, making sure he doesn't disturb you when you should be sleeping or at work. You are less restrained, finding you stare at the phone waiting for the next message like an impatient teenager. You tell yourself it's because he's the only real friend you've got around and it's lonely when he's gone. Then when he sends you an audio message you nearly fall out of your chair listening to his silky smooth voice as he tells you about his day.

OCIA!Alex - Smirks to himself in his bunk at night when you start sending him pictures. Innocent ones of course. Things you saw on your walk, sighing in frustration at another video meeting at work, the dinner you made (and didn't burn!), and the weird neighbor downstairs who only checks her mail at night. But then a not so innocent one pops on his phone after you've had a few glasses of wine.

OCIA!Alex - Avoids your father's questions as he tries to probe and see just what your relationship is. He had tried you when he saw your phone buzz with a text from Alex when he stopped by. You maintained you were just friends, that Alex was a nice guy but too old for you. That was, if friends sent lingerie and shower pictures to one another...and instructed the other just what to do when they were feeling particularly needy and lonely.

OCIA!Alex - Doesn't let your dad know he took a flight back two days early, and neither do you. He barely makes it into your apartment before you jump him and insist the uniform stays on. Those two extra days are spent solely at your apartment before Alex reports back to your dad, who is none the wiser. Even if Alex has hickeys all over his neck and his clothes reek of your perfume.

OCIA!Alex - Has to play nice when your father has an award ceremony and he insists you meet a few of his friend's sons. Your father determined you've been alone for too long, not enough friends, and is trying to get you back out there. He doesn't see Alex staring down each man as if they are his next target. Nor does he see the two of you slip away before his speech.

OCIA!Alex - Is unimpressed when you start spending time with others, men your own age in particular. You insist it's to keep your dad's suspicions away because he's been asking very leading questions, he's not dumb. And also, you had both agreed that whatever this was it was only a hookup, no commitment. Alex had his job and you wouldn't risk your father's ire.

OCIA!Alex - Agrees, two can play this game. He starts making some other 'friends' of his own and grins as he notices the worry in your tone that he's turned the tables. Jealously is a young person's game and he knows exactly how he feels about you, it's just getting you to admit it yourself. Your father seems a bit more relaxed that the two of you seem to spending less time together.

OCIA!Alex - Is sent out on a particularly long assignment in Europe. After three weeks of being gone and radio silent he knows he won this battle of wills when he gets a notification of an airfare purchase. He's hardly shocked to find you waiting outside of his hotel room he booked under his fake name. You are your father's daughter after all.

OCIA!Alex - Tells you to let him worry about your father as you lay sprawled on top of him. He's dealt with bigger issues from smaller targets before. You attempt to talk about it more but he silences you as he rolls you under him.

OCIA!Alex - Has a conversation with your father. (We're not going to give away the ending here 😉)

[tomriddleslove]

Pt 3 - Always.

Theodore Nott x Reader

Pt 2 here

Summary: The one where the anticipated week long holiday between the friendship group turns into a certified nightmare. Alternatively: You accidentally end up rooming with Theodore.

A/N: WE’VE ENTERED THE HOLIDAY PART AND I CANT WAIT FOR WHERE THIS IS GOING TO GO WOOOOHHH

I promise the angst will eventually subside (eventually.)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Songs: I know you - Faye Webster

I wait for you - Alex G

By some miracle, you had all managed to get through the weeks leading up to the summer holidays and were due to travel to Pansy’s family home today. The monotony of pouring over books, frantically rummaging through essays you had written on scrolls of parchment looking for your notes had finally paid off, and exams were done. Pansy had been raving on and on about just how beautiful the quaint villa was (which seemed to be a bit of a juxtaposition) , and how they'd all have a great time. Whilst you did look forward to it, you were reminded of who would be there.

Theodore.

After that conversation in the library, things had gone from worse to even worse. In some cruel twist of fate, you seemed to see Theodore everywhere now, yet his increased presence seemed only to solidify just how much of a gap there was between the two of you.

Spending a week together both seemed terrifying and cruelly humorous. A kind of plot from a shitty rom-com, though you doubted it would turn out for the better.

The once lively (arguably messy) dorm room you shared with Pansy was now barren and bare, your belongings packed away as you waited for Pansy to finish…

Tapping the walls?

“Pans, what on earth are you doing?” You ask, and she continues knocking on random places on the wall, letting out a groan of frustration.

“I swear I had it hidden somewhere! I refuse to let some snotty little 6th-year find it.” She grumbles.

“What the fuck are you looking for? Maybe if you told me it would be a bit easier.” You respond exasperatedly, nearing your wits ends.

“My weed! I kept a stash hidden somewhere when we first came but I've been leeching off Enzo! Now I can't find it!” She huffs, throwing her arms up exasperatedly. You roll your eyes and resist the urge to slap her upside the back of her head.

“You idiot, I packed that away.” You snap, and she furrows her brows.

“What? When?” She says, and you begin to wonder whether you should even bother.

“Merlin Pansy, is your memory that bad? You asked me to take it.” You chide. Her look of confusion merges into a sheepish smile.

“Oh… Thanks!” She says, beaming as she slings her bag over her shoulder.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time as you lug your bags downstairs.

“Finally.” Draco proclaimed, ushering the attention of the group as they looked up to see you and Pansy descending. Blaise immediately goes over to take Pansy's suitcase, and she looks up at him with a bashful smile.

Woah.

What?

You raise a brow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. Lorenzo comes over to help you with your trunks, and he leans closer to you.

“You're seeing it too, right? Smitten with one another.” He whispers.

“Since when? She was flirting with Belby about a week or so ago.” you say, raising a brown.

“Exactly. Notice how Blaise wasn't there? He left for a reason.” Lorenzo gushes, as though you both were 12 and at a sleepover. You giggle lightly.

“Wanna bet on when they'll get together?” You offer, and Lorenzo nods.

“Easy. They're both too damn stubborn to confess so I bet it’ll be after the trip.” He says.

You let out a loud laugh, and they all turn to look at you and Lorenzo. Pansy raises a brow, but you're looking elsewhere. Theodore looks over at you, and how Lorenzo is leaning close to you. He has to tear his eyes away, and he swallows harshly.

It was incredible how one person could change your mood so quickly.

Stupid, really, just how much one person could affect you. You clear your throat and turn back to Lorenzo.

“I bet they'll get together during the trip. 5 Galleons?” You ask, holding out your hand. Lorenzo eyes you suspiciously, then shakes your hand.

“Deal.” He says, and a wicked grin graces your face.

“Great. That means I can do this then.” You say, walking over to Pansy and Blaise.

“Pans, can you be a dear for me? I want to room with Lorenzo, so can you room with Blaise instead please?” You plead.

Blaise raises a brow and Pansy looks at you with a pointed glare

You were helping her (and perhaps yourself).

“Isn’t Loren-” Blaise starts but you quickly cut him off.

“Please, pansy?” You say, your voice strained. You really wanted those 5 galleons. Pansy is nervous but somehow also, you can tell she’s excited. You're probing her onwards, and with a shy smile (Once again, so out of character for her), she accepts.

“Alright- only if you don't mind, Blaise?” She says, looking up at him.

He grins as he looks down at her and you watch the two with an amused look on your face.

Hopeless, really. You give it a day or two before they're together.

“Of course.” He agreed.

Damn, you were good. With a cheeky grin, you turn back to Lorenzo and wiggle your eyebrows. You had the win in the bag. You leave the two and walk back to Lorenzo, grinning as you approach him.

“Don't hate the player, hate the game” You brag, and Lorenzo has to suppress a smile.

“Good Job. You forgot one thing though, sweetheart. I’m sharing a room with Mattheo.” Lorenzo quips, and your expression drops.

“What? Pansy said-” You protest, and Lorenzo laughed.

“Yeah, originally I was sharing a room with Draco. But Draco demanded his own room because he refused to share and Mattheo ended up with me instead.” He continues.

It takes a second for the gears in your head to turn, and then you realise.

If there are 4 bedrooms, and Blaise and Pansy are in one, Mattheo and Lorenzo in the other, Draco on his own in the third, that leaves you and...

Theodore.

You were going to strangle the life out of the greasy blonde-haired git. Damn him and his scrawny little princess ass.

You suddenly feel very sick. Perhaps you should stay in Hogwarts. Summer with Snape sounds riveting now, doesn't it?

You take a deep breath, trying to hide your disappointment, but Lorenzo sees right through you and bursts into laughter.

"Looks like the game just got a whole lot more interesting, huh?" he teases, patting you on the back. You shoot him a mock glare, but inside, you're already plotting how you’ll get through this.

May the heavens above help you.

As you stood outside the, admittedly stunning villa, you began to wonder whether you could brave sleeping outdoors for a week. The old French villa stands gracefully amidst lush gardens and towering trees, exuding an air of timeless elegance. Its weathered façade is adorned with intricate wrought-iron balconies and climbing vines. A cobbled pathway leads to an arched entrance adorned with a rustic wooden door. The entrance is flanked by tall windows with faded shutters, each window framed by ornate carvings that add a touch of sophistication.

As you step inside, the foyer unfolds, grand and established. A winding staircase leads upwards, and you can't even begin to imagine how damn expensive this place was.

The rooms are filled with antique furniture and large windows adorned with heavy curtains that allow dappled sunlight to filter through, casting a warm glow on the Persian rugs that cover the floor.

Nevermind. You could tolerate it.

The group of you stand in the foyer, looking around.

“Well shit…” Mattheo murmurs under his breath, looking around. You agree with him. You couldn't even begin to comprehend how wealthy your friends were. It felt almost alienating, somehow. The rest of them seemed accustomed to such luxuries, it seemed only Mattheo and yourself weren't.

“Right. There are two en suites and two regular rooms. Blaise and I will have the first ensuite, and You and Theodore get the other. It's all the way on the top floor.” Pnays says, and you nod, insides churning at the reminder of having to share a room with Theodore. You don't even turn to look at him.

“How come you two get en suites?” Mattheo complains, and Pansy turns to him, rolling her eyes.

��Because you dimwit, we need privacy for changing. We can't exactly just strip naked in front of Blaise and Theodore.” Pansy pointed out, motioning between yourself and her.

You loved Pansy, you really did, but why did she have to word it like that? You groan internally, shaking your head.

“I'm sure they'll be doing it anyway..” Lorenzo mumbles to you, and you snicker as you look over at Blaise and Pansy. Agreeing to meet downstairs in an hour to order food, you all make your way up to your respective rooms.

You hurl your suitcase up the steps, hyper-aware of Theodore walking just behind you. You climb up the first set of stairs and look up. A solid three more sets to go.

What the hell? 4 floors and 4 bedrooms? What kind of architectural fuck up was this? It seemed now like you had bricks in your bag because the task of getting up those remaining three flights of stairs seemed near impossible.

You pulled out of your mini crisis embarrassingly quick as fingers brushed against yours. You spin around, spotting Theodore. He's reaching down for your bag, and he looks up, eyes meeting yours.

You hated him.

You loved him.

You loathed him.

You didn't know which one mattered more.

“Let me take it.” He offers, clearing his throat, and suddenly you've lost the ability to speak.

You nod in agreement, too caught off guard by the unexpected gesture to form coherent words. Theodore effortlessly lifts the suitcase as if it were weightless, and you watch the play of muscles beneath his shirt as he ascends the staircase with ease.

You berate yourself for being so shameless.

You follow him, trying to shake off the strange mix of emotions swirling within you. Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you reach the landing, now standing just outside the door of your shared room.

"Thanks," you manage to mumble, avoiding eye contact as Theodore sets your suitcase down inside the room. He nods in acknowledgement, his expression unreadable.

As you enter the room, you're greeted by a quaint and cosy little room. Luckily, there are two separate beds, though they are pushed together to form one larger one. You'll be sure to move them apart.

Theodore clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I guess this is our room for the trip," he remarks, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah," you reply, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The air between you two is charged with unspoken tension, and the weight of the realisation settles in. Fate, it seems, had a peculiar sense of humour.

"Listen, about earlier," Theodore starts, his gaze searching yours, but you cut him off swiftly.

“Don’t. There's nothing to talk about.” You say, brushing past him as you walk into the room. You have your back faced to him, face bright red as you begin unpacking, actions more forceful than you intended them to be.

Theodore remains silent for a moment, respecting your need for space. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you as you unpack, each movement deliberate and almost aggressive.

You hear Theodore take a deep breath behind you, and then he speaks, his voice breaking, tinged with an underlying vulnerability. "Please. Just, look at me." He pleads.

You clench your jaw, your hands gripping the edges of your suitcase. You turn around, meeting his gaze with a steely expression.

You swear your heart breaks. He’s frowning, and he looks on the verge of tears.

Stupid. This was so, so stupid.

“Look. Nothing is going on. Nothing happened, ok? I'm fine.” You say, though it's a blatant lie. You grab your sweater and book, considering pushing past him again on your way out as you speak.

You don't want to carry on like this. It hurt.

“Yeah, sure," Theodore replies, his voice now strained and forced into an artificial calm. "Nothing happened."

You want to believe it, to believe that you can bury the complicated mess of emotions that surged to the surface earlier. As you step into the hallway, you take a deep breath, plastering a fake smile on your face.

Theodore follows suit, and together you make your way downstairs to join the others. The air is thick with tension, but the group seems oblivious, immersed in arguments over food.

Pansy looks at you curiously, her keen eyes noting the shift in dynamics, but she chooses not to pry. Blaise seems absorbed in his thoughts, Lorenzo is engaged in animated conversation with Mattheo, and Draco appears indifferent to the subtle changes in the atmosphere.

No one notices anything, and you're very convinced it's because nothing really existed in the first place. You walk over to where Matteho is sitting on the sofa and take a seat next to him. He wraps an arm around you, drawing you in close as he continues speaking to Lorenzo.

“Hey, stimp.” Mattheo says, rubbing your arm as he looks down at you.

Sidenote: The nickname stimp originated from when Pansy had gone through a phase of calling everyone ‘stink’. You had no idea what she was saying and thought she was calling everyone stimp. You were relentlessly tormented by the group for thinking so, and it's stuck since then (courtesy of Mattheo.)

“Hey.” You mumble into his chest. He chuckles, fiddling with your hair lightly as he goes back to his conversation with Lorenzo.

Your mind (as it so often did) lingers back to Theodore. Your stomach aches because of it.

He's a tempest, a tempest that lingers in the recesses of your soul, tearing through the tranquillity with an unrelenting force.

You're weary, though these past few days with Theodore have made you constantly feel that way. You become tuned out from the conversations of your friends, feeling oddly like a spectator.

Your eyes grow heavy, and whether it's to your dismay or relief, you fall asleep with Theodore on your mind.

You could have sworn you fell asleep in the living room, curled into Mattheo. So when your eyes flicker open, and you're blinking wearily, sitting up in your bed, you're heavily disoriented.

A sleepy groan escapes your lips as you gingerly sit up, looking around. Theodore is lying in his bed, and you're very quickly aware of the fact that he separated them.

His eyes flicker over to yours at the sound of you stirring, a book loosely held in his hands.

Your eyes flicker down to the cover of the book and you're surprised at how quickly you feel sick again. It was getting rather tiring, really.

How long was he reading for? Was he thinking of you as he read? Did he read and look over at you?

“I saved some food for you.” He says after a beat. He looks at you, as though he wants to say more, and you see the conflict in his mind. He looks back down, and you feel slightly disappointed.

“Thanks.” You croak quietly, gingerly slipping out of bed. You sit on the edge for a second, back facing Theodore as you orient yourself for a bit before you slide on some slippers. You yawn and get up, tossing the covers back as you make your way downstairs. You blindly grope the walls as you warily descend the stairs in the pitch-black darkness, praying you didn't send yourself tumbling down.

Your fingers brush against a light switch and you let out a small sigh of relief as you flick the lights on.

God, how late was it?

You finally manage to stumble into the kitchen, the warm lights illuminating the otherwise barren place. The house is silent, and you assume it must be very late, judging by the way your friends (who almost exclusively lived between the hours of 11:00 - 02:00) were not awake. You shouldn't be eating at this time, especially because you planned to sleep right after, but you were starving and hadn't eaten prior.

You open what you assume to be the fridge (because god forbid rich people be like the rest of us and have normal-looking things), and see two small containers and a pizza box. You're impressed Draco (who though incredibly slender seemed to have the appetite of a growing giant) hadn't eaten it yet. You open the pizza box first and feel immediately better when you see the order. It's exactly what you like, there's garlic butter on the crust, and olives on every slice. There are tomatoes but it's on the side because you hate cooked tomatoes, and there's your favourite sauce as well (Blaise almost cried bloody murder when he saw you dipping your pizza in mayo a few years ago. You swore it was good.)

With a small smile on your face, you peer into the other two containers. One is full of strawberries, and your mouth waters.

You absolutely adored strawberries, and these looked plump and fresh, a far cry from the sad little things you'd get in Hogsmeade, on rare occasions. You can't resist biting into one and letting out a small groan of satisfaction as you do.

This had to be what heaven felt like, surely. You swore these alone could make you ascend. You pull out the container and snack on some, looking up as you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Pansy yawns as she saunters into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She's evidently sleepy, reaching for a glass of water as she speaks.

“You're finally up.” She mumbles groggily, leaning against the counter.

You nod.

“Woke up a few minutes ago. Thank you for ordering some pizza for me. You got it spot on.” You say with a small smile, and Pansy dismisses you with a small flick of her hand, as she sets the glass down.

“Oh no no, it wasn't me. We all ordered some sushi because Blaise knew a place. Theodore went out and got all that for you. He disappeared for like three bloody hours and we thought he got kidnapped or something. Turns out it’s very hard to find a good pizza place here.” Pansy says.

You blink in surprise at Pansy’s revelation. You have to stop yourself from dropping your jaw because you couldn't deal with her question right now, especially because…

What the fuck?

Why? How?

Why?

You can barely comprehend Theodore could remember all those things about you. Little things that you yourself wouldn't even notice. By the looks of it even your closest friend, Pansy, didn't even know that.

He went out of his way to get that for you?

It's an odd mixture of emotions — appreciation, confusion, and a tinge of frustration. Frustration because he was being so damn confusing. Ignoring you but then knowing everything about you. Not talking to you and then confessing he's been searching for you in everything he does. Remaining distant but doing things that made your heart flutter and guilt flood your being.

Pansy is watching you intently, ever observant. She gives you a once over, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

“Night then.” She says, turning back to go to her room.

Even Pansy, who was ever known for being careless and prying, knew right now that this was something that went so much further than her best friend having a silly crush on someone. She didn’t need to know the history between you and Theodore to know this was something serious, and her reserved and understanding behaviour only seemed to scare you more. You remain staring off for a second as she retreats before you close the container, slipping it back into the fridge

(You'd hex Draco's teeth onto his toes if he dared to touch them.)

You make your way back up to your room, and by the time you enter Theodore is no longer reading, rather he's asleep in his bed.

His bedside lamp is off, but yours is on. You look at him for a second, and you're grateful that he's asleep because you didn't know what to say, or how to face him. You quietly retreat into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth before slipping back into the bedroom. You slip under the covers of your bed, tugging the blanket over you as you sink into the infuriatingly comfy mattress (How you'd be able to find sleep again back at Hogwarts after this, you never knew. This made your dorm bed feel like you were sleeping on a slab of concrete. If this home isn't being used by Pansy and her family till the holiday, you seriously considered breaking in and living here in the meantime.)

You and Theo are sleeping on opposite sides of the room, backs facing away from one another. Your bed is facing the window, which you're glad about because you couldn't sleep otherwise. A small voice in your mind questions if that was Theodore’s doing as well.

The silence is broken as you speak, words you only dare to utter because Theodore is asleep.

“Thank you.” You whisper, quietly.

Silence follows, and you let out a small breath because, of course, there's silence, Theodore is asleep. You find your own eyes drifting shut very quickly, slipping away into sleep.

You feel as though you're sinking, and you can't tell if it's because you're tired or spiralling.

In the quiet darkness, you find yourself teetering on the cusp of sleep. You're in that nearly there phase, where you feel simultaneously weightless and heavy. You're half-conscious, dreams blurring the line of reality. You're drifting away, and you swear you hear a whisper, gentle and barely audible in a voice that sounds very similar to Theodore.

"Always."

@camille-1019

[sting-raes]

How would you describe your Elliott’s body type, I’m super interested because he’s just look so fucking hugabble

Ah! So this is something I've actually already drawn a while back.

It's been a while and I think if I were to draw him again like this he'd be a little meatier? But I like to think that he's fairly toned in the arm and pec department. You'd need a fair bit of strength to not only fix a wooden rowboat, but to lug it out to sea yourself! The pecs are just for... well, indulgence. Also it's canon.

He works out (I imagine it's during that window between 8am when he wakes up and 10am when he unlocks the door to his cabin) but he does more body weight exercises than, say, Alex since he's not shown to own any exercise equipment. So he isn't ripped but he's reasonably defined methinks.

[bunnydol]

the corn maze

alex the farmer x fem!afab!reader

contents: exhibitionism, public, almost caught, established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, use of “sir”, slight degradation, spanking (f!receiving), spit, choking, piv, fingering (f!receiving), mention of breeding, overstim, ask to tag

w/c: ~2.7k

from the cottage: the corn maze was a big hit this year! odd how all those puddles got in the hay, though. it didn’t rain…

++Love ++Exhibitionism

it had been your idea to open up a corn maze this fall.

granted, it was a hell of a lot of work, given the amount of corn that needed to be grown into an intricate pattern, making sure there was enough hay on the ground so mud wouldn’t permeate through and get everyone’s boots dirty. the preparations had started in late summer, and now, by late fall, your shared side hustle was booming. the young orphan kids all pooled money to take the bus and get out to the farmlands to enjoy the fall festivities, some of the townsfolk drove their way out to see what the two of you had put together.

you huffed as you lugged over one of the last hay bales into the cow feeders, wiping your gloved hands on the front of your dress before walking over to your long-term boyfriend (“s’ already like we’re married, don’tcha think? i can get ya a ring, but yer already my li’l wife.”), peeling your gloves off and holding them out for him to take. “cows are fed. did you feed the dogs?”

“mhm,” alex hummed, taking your gloves and shoving them in the back pocket of his overalls for now. “dogs are fed, horses are gettin’ ready to be turned in. sun’s still high, though.”

you glanced up towards the early dusk sun, the bright orange burning your eyes a bit, but making you smile. “true. and there’s still plenty of people coming in to run around the maze… have you gone in at all yet?”

“hm? no, i haven’t. been too busy makin’ sure everyone paid before going in.'' he took his hat off to run his wide fingers through his hair, keeping it away from his forehead before setting his hat back down.

everything he did was attractive, somehow. “i haven’t been inside either, not since we laid the hay down.” you cocked your head slightly, smiling up at him as you reached for his hand. “you wanna take a try with me?”

“i mean…” he furrowed his brows in thought, glancing over to where the cattle were munching on the fresh hay, where the dogs were barking at a snake slithering under the fencing of the chicken coop. 

“please? we can take a little break, right? we didn’t take one at lunch, so…” you trailed off, flashing puppy eyes at him, and you felt him deflate with a sigh and squeeze your hand. 

“i s’pose we can- woah!” alex let out a grunt as you suddenly yanked him forward, tugging him towards the entrance of the maze you had both worked so hard on. he caught up, of course, smiling down at your happiness as you both stepped onto the well-trodden hay path and started your journey.

in hindsight, you thought as you rounded another corner, and then another, and then another, perhaps you should have drawn a map.

“didn’t we pass that stalk five minutes ago, babe?” alex quipped from behind you as you turned left down a passage you thought you definitely hadn’t been down before, only to find yourself in a clearing completely surrounded by corn stalks on three sides. another dead end.

you groaned and put your head in your hands, turning to face your boyfriend and walking right into his chest on purpose. “we’re lost.”

“we’re not lost, we jus’ took a wrong turn somewhere…” alex mumbled, tipping his chin down to kiss the top of your head. “it’s fine. here, rest up, huh? lemme see if i can take a look over the stalks…”

he put his broad palms on your sides and guided you towards a hay bale that was set up for people that were in your situation, lost and trying to get their bearings from being turned around so many times.

the backs of your knees hit the bale, and you collapsed onto it with a soft oof, dropping your hands from your face to look up at alex as he walked towards the left wall of corn and tried to tug some of it down. “alex, no, c’mon, don’t break the stalks, there’s still a few more weeks of fall…” you whined at him, causing him to give you a look over his shoulder. “we’re lost, babygirl. i don’t give a shit if i tug down a few stalks. we got hundreds more.”

“but i grew these all myself!” you pouted at him, that old brattiness bubbling up as you simmered in your frustration. “don’t be rude, why don’t you put me on your shoulders or something?”

“i can handle it, doll,” he sighed, already sensing in the back of his mind that you were staring daggers at his back as he tugged some of the stalks forward again to see over them.

“alex, seriously, let me get on your shoulders. you’re being stupid, don’t ruin the maze.” you got to your feet, and managed to get two steps in before he turned around and had one of his large hands clasped around your neck. he didn’t squeeze, not just yet, but he grabbed you, effectively scruffing you and making your mouth shut tight.

“i said i got it, baby girl. where’d your attitude come from, huh?” he tilted his head, blocking your eyes from the sun and standing you in his shadow. you saw the glint of his eyes perfectly now, the burning of his red hair under the brim of his hat, the sweat from a day’s work and all the walking you both just did beading at his hairline. 

you swallowed thickly, feeling your throat bob under his hand. “i just don’t want your big hands to tear a new path in the maze. it’s cheating.”

“cheatin’?” he knitted his brows together as he applied a little pressure to the sides of your neck, “what’s cheatin’ is makin’ me wait until all these people get home for me to touch ya.”

your breath hitched as you felt his other hand snake along your side. for a brief moment, you recalled far earlier in the day, when the guests had started to arrive, when he tried to bend you over the porch railing and take you right there. you had pushed him off and promised him later, honey, we’ll get caught out here!

“alex, we can’t, not here, there’s-”

“i bet yer still not wearin’ anything under here, hm?” he glanced down at the hem of your dress, his fingers dancing over it before flipping the skirt up to reveal your bare pussy to him. you hissed from the breeze and squirmed to get away, but he just gripped your throat tighter. 

you knew he could see how you were already getting wet for him.

“we’re lost, ‘member?” he asked, pulling you in close to him, bringing his chest to yours as he studied your face. “i don’t think anyone’s come by this li’l corner since we got in here. think you’ll let me finish what i started this morning?”

you didn’t really get a say, nor were you going to stop him.

he let go of your throat to spin you around to face the hay bale you had been sitting on, pressing his chest against your back to walk you over to it. his broad hand pressed between your shoulder blades, and you were forced forward, hands landing on the gritty straw with a whimper of discomfort. “alex-”

“aht. manners, doll, since ya wanna catch an attitude with me.” his hand came down on your ass over the thin material of your dress, making you gasp and bite down on your lip to try and keep quiet.

“sir,” you breathed out, correcting yourself as you pressed your ass back against the growing bulge in his overalls, “we shouldn’t, we’re gonna get caught! someone’s gonna-” 

“quiet,” he retorted, leaning his weight over you and reaching a hand around to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks between his fingers and thumb. “you keep whinin’ about gettin’ caught, but you just keep on yappin’. why not try moaning instead, baby?”

you whined when you felt him grind his bulge against your pussy over your dress, uncomfortable with the amount of fabric between your pussy and his cock. 

“please,” you whimpered out, but it sounded more like pweath with how he was gripping your face. 

he hummed against your ear as he used a free hand to flip the skirt of your dress up over your hips, revealing your glistening folds to the open air once again. “i know yer a slut, but ya always surprise me.” he managed to lean back just enough to spit onto your drippy hole, making you moan softly and bite down hard on your lip.

then you felt his girthy middle finger protrude into your entrance, and your head started to spin, just as it always did when he started to work you open. 

alex chuckled as your head fell forward and your arms started to struggle with holding yourself up. his free arm came to wrap around your neck, lifting your head back up for you. “there ya go, baby. see? all better. ‘s a good thing we got lost, hm? finally got ya where i wanted ya this morning, all pretty ‘nd bent over ‘nd wet for me.”

his breath was hot against your cheek as his finger pumped in and out of you, curling against the spongy spot he had learned was your favorite (it had took him long enough to find it, the bastard). as you could do was whimper behind your swollen, bitten lip, trying not to cry out to avoid being caught by any of the patrons still wandering the maze. 

one wrong turn by anybody could get you both caught, and the thought sent a thrill down your spine and made you gush as he inserted a second wide finger into your pulsing hole. he curled and scissored his fingers against your gummy walls, laughing quietly at your fucked out expression.

“what, does my baby wanna get caught? always such a whore, wantin’ everyone to see this pretty pussy ‘n this tight ass. better be quiet when i fill you with my cock.”

you moaned before slapping a hand over your mouth, squirming as his fingers curled just right. he flexed his arm around your throat and made you wheeze, your hips bucking involuntarily. 

he was going to be the death of you. 

you whined behind your hand as he pulled his fingers out from you, your pussy clenching around nothing, neglected clit hard and aching. alex used his soaked fingers to fumble with the button and the fly of his overalls, struggling and grunting until he was able to free his fat, leaky cock from the confines of the denim. 

you felt the heat of his heavy cock against your thigh, your mind racing. you always cried out when he managed to push all the way in, the tip of his cock always threatening to bruise your cervix, but you couldn’t this time, not here, in the middle of the corn maze the two of you were hosting.

alex should consider himself lucky you haven’t kicked him away from you (as if you could – you were strong from years of farm work, sure, but alex was wide and far, far stronger than you were. you didn’t stand a chance). 

“gonna be good n’ let me fuck you how i want? gonna stay quiet?” he mumbled into your shoulder, and you managed a nod from over where his arm was wrapped around your neck.

“good,” he purred, his voice dropping even lower as he tapped the drippy head of his thick cock against your entrance, “then keep your pretty mouth shut just this once. don’t get us in trouble.”

his teeth sunk lightly into your shoulder as he bullied his way into your pussy, the head of his cock popping in with a wet sound. your legs were shaking and your breath was caught in your throat, unable to stop the cry that bubbled up behind your hand. 

he pushed deeper, deeper, deeper into you, groaning against your skin. it wasn’t the first time, far from it, but you always felt like it was because of the sheer size of him.

you felt his tip bump against your cervix and his heavy balls smack against your clit, making you twitch harshly. your legs, feeling like gelatin, almost gave out from under you, but lucky enough for you, alex had his arm wound around your neck.

he barely gave you time to adjust before he was pulling his hips back and thrusting hard into you again, starting a brutal pace. he was holding you up, one arm around your neck, his other hand splayed on your stomach to hold you back against him as he railed into you with force.

you slapped both hands over your mouth as you gurgled and moaned behind them, feeling your eyes roll back as his tip kissed your cervix over and over again. it felt like the air was being punched from your lungs.

“ha-ah, that’s it baby girl, just like that, doin’ so well f’ me,” he groaned against your ear, much more quiet and composed than you were.

his balls smacked against your clit over and over, the wet pap, pap, pap of his hips colliding with your ass barely audible over the sound of the wind and the people in the maze chatting with one another.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him grip onto you a little harder; you were close, already on the edge after being spread open by his fingers.

“close already, doll? feel that good? or is it ‘cause we’re outside, fuckin’ like animals? ‘s that it? you like being bred like this? hah?” alex laughed breathily at your trembling form, holding you up as you clenched tightly around him. your head was fuzzy and swimming, lightheaded from being pounded and from feeling like you weren’t getting enough air.

“fuck, yer grippin’ me so tight- you gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over this cock right here, out in the open? c’mon, wanna feel you cum all over me, cum for me, cum cum cum-” he accentuated his words with deep thrusts of his cock inside your leaking pussy, and just as he demanded, you creamed and gushed all over the front of his overalls with a shout muffled behind shaking hands. your whole body shook from the force of how hard it washed over you, your knees buckling once again.

alex groaned into your skin and tucked his nose into the crook of your neck. he didn’t stop – he never did until he could cum inside your little cunt. you whined out loudly behind your hands, the feeling of him fucking into you just as hard and his balls smacking against your achy clit slowly becoming too much to bear.

your squirming seemed to egg him on, however, as the hand splayed on your stomach wrapped around your form to pin you to his chest, keeping you steady on your feet. “gonna cum inside this fuckin’ cunt, yeah, gonna fill that little hole up with my cum, oh g-god-”

it didn’t take him too much longer to moan out into the open air and fill you to the brim with cum, almost immediately forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock as he fucked it deep into you. you whimpered with him, eyes fluttering and tears cooling against your cheeks. 

alex chuckled softly as he slowly, slowly pulled out of you, softening cock popping out and leaving you clenching around nothing. you shuddered as you felt his cum start to drip from your hole, but his fingers were there to save the day, pushing it back in. “don’ waste it…”

you panted and finally removed your hands from your mouth, turning your head to catch his lips in a kiss. “you’re insatiable.”

“not my fault you got us put in a secluded spot without li’l panties on.” he shrugged, ever relaxed, even now as he held you up from falling.

“how are we supposed to get out now? i can’t walk…” you whined at him, and he chuckled as he tucked his cock away with one hand, using the other to support your weight.

“i know where the exit is. i’ll just carry ya.”

“you knew?!”

[chestnutninny]

Hii! Can I request alex cabot x reader where they fall inlove during law school but then after they graduate they had to leave eachother for different law firms. Then after a few years, they finally meet again because of a case and give eachother a second chance? thank you!!

Second Chances

Alex Cabot x Reader (Fluff)

Warnings: Normal SVU topics (rape, murder, assault)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Stepping foot through the grand entrance of Harvard, your nerves kicked in, your skin flushed and sweating slightly as you looked around at the bustling corridors. To say your was nervous was an understatement as you came here without knowing anybody.

As you arrived at your first lecture, you sat towards the back of the classroom in order to hide and conceal yourself from many of the other students there. Part way through the lecture, the doors burst open to reveal a blonde girl, flushed and panicking, sweat glistening on her forehead, revealing the sprint that she had endured to try and get to the lecture on time.

"So you must be Miss Cabot. You're late!" The lecturer gave the girl a stern glare, which even you felt despite being nowhere near them both.

"I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't find the classroom." She explained.

"Don't let it happen again. Sit down."

The girl looked at her surroundings, taking note of the only empty seat being next to you. She walked over, lugging her briefcase over shoulder onto the desk infront of her with a huff. She took a seat and got her equipment out infront of herself, hastily taking notes from the board at the front of the class.

The lecturer droned on throughout the class hall, however the groan of many student gained your attention back to the front, where it was evident that the tutor was already giving you all an assignment and pairing up everyone in the class. He told you that you would be in a pair with the girl that arrived late and that he expected the work to be done for next week's lesson.

You sighed, knowing that the girl would most likely be unreliable, however the she turned to face you with a nervous smile on her face and her hand outstretched for you to shake.

"Hi, I'm Alex. I know you think that I'm not reliable and you're worried about doing this assignment on your own, but I can assure you that today was an honest mistake and it won't happen again." She smiled as you took her hand, the spark fluttering through making her blush.

"Hey, I'm Y/N. Meet me at the cafe on campus. We look at the work there and start on our ideas. Don't be late." You wrote down your number and the address of the cafe on a post-it note, sliding across the desk towards her.

The bell rung, signalling the end of the lesson, and you sprung from your seat, giving Alex one final smile before you headed out the door to your next lecture.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

As you arrived at the cafe, you were shocked to find Alex already occupying a corner seat, a coffee sat on either side of the table.

"Hey." Alex's eyes lit up as she saw you. "I wasn't expecting you to be here yet"

"I told you that was just a one off." Alex explained with a smirk. She gestured to the coffee that was opposite her side of the table. "I didn't know what to get for you, so I just ordered the same as me."

"Thank you, you didn't have to." She pushed the drink closer to you as you took your seat, your hands grazing as you gratefully accepted the steaming beverage from her hands. You didn't miss the blush that accented her pale cheeks, creeping its way down her chest as you grinned at her flushed state.

A few hours into the stay at the cafe, the assignment was long forgotten, as empty plates and drinks littered the table, where both of you chattered, laughed, and joked with each other. The waitress came over and informed you both that the cafe was closing soon, so both of you packed your things up and set off through the doors into the breezy, autumn evening.

The wind whipped your hair around your face, and the trees around you rustled with the fierce breeze that soared through the air. Alex reached out her hand and removed the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Her eyes glistened under the fading sun as she leaning in, her face inches away from your own.

"I really want to kiss you." Alex admitted. "Can I?"

You leant in, your lips brushing against hers, sparks shocking your lips as you added more pressure to hers lips. One of Alex's hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer to her, whilst her other hand caressed your chin, silently pleading you to stay.

"Would you like to come back to my dorm?." You muttered as you pulled away slightly from her embrace.

"I thought you'd never ask."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You both spent time together over the next few weeks, and then weeks turned into months, and then you had admitted that you loved Alex, however you were too afraid to admit them to her.

You had both become best friends and supported each other through thick and thin, yet the kiss and the night that you had spent together had never been spoken about since it occurred.

The end of the school year was rapidly approaching and neither you or Alex had discussed your next steps with each other. You had figured that should would become a defense attorney at the same firm that you had your eyes set on, however you couldn't be too sure.

Later that day, you met up with Alex at the cafe on campus, ordering on behalf of both of you as you awaited her arrival. She waltzed through the door and planted herself in the opposing seat to you. A light sheen of sweat covered her face as she huffed out a breath.

"I'm sorry for being late. Today's been hectic, and the workload is too much. I haven't had a break all week."

"It's okay, Lexi. You need to take a break though, I've never seen you so tense and stressed out."

"I have the weekend off, I was hoping that maybe we could spend the weekend together."

"I'd love that, more than you'd know."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Alex had booked a reservation at a nice restaurant just outside of the Harvard campus, the decoration classy and the atmosphere calm and relaxed.

You decided on wearing a figure-hugging, short black dress and your hair updo in a messy bun, with a little makeup. Alex met you at the restaurant, her blue eyes boring into yours, and then her eyes dropping down to drink you in.

"W-wow, you look...gorgeous, Y/N." Alex stuttered, her lips splitting into a shy grin.

"Thank you, Al. You don't look too bad yourself." You winked at her with a smirk on your face. You chuckled at the flush that enveloped her cheeks.

The evening went by amazingly, both of you indulging into your meals and drinks, and sharing your dessert.

"Y/N, I need to talk to you. I've decided that I'm joining prosecution at the DA's office in Manhattan. I'll be moving to New York next week and starting there shortly after."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

That was 4 years ago.

After studying at Harvard, you got a job in Chicago as a prosecutor for White Collar crimes, as well as Homicide too. However, your boss had just convinced you to transfer to Manhattan to work alongside the Special Victims Unit, as they were short-staffed and were drowning in cases.

You had caught a flight to New York on Friday and spent the weekend preparing for your new job and finding your way around the city.

Monday morning flew around and beofre you knew it, you were striding into the precinct that you had been assigned to. You were walking through the corridor to the main room you'd be spending time in when you smelt the perfume, the perfume that Alex Cabot always wore. You were hit with memories of your time together, the kisses that you had shared and especially the love that you had developed for her.

For years, you had hoped to see her again, but you hadn't heard anything from her after you had tried to contact her, with no record of her on social media.

You enter the briefing room in the precinct, where Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson were quick to fill you in on the case that you would be working on with them and another ADA. Your eyes almost popped out of your head as you were introduced to the ADA that you were working alongside, when you realised you were in the presence on Alex Cabot, the one who got away.

"H-Hi Miss Cabot, I'm Miss Y/L/N. I'll be working with you on this case." You sputtered as you offered her your hand to shake whilst you re-introduced yourself to her.

"Y/N..." Alex's eyes softened as she regarded you, her hand lingering in yours as she shook it.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to desperately blink them back, refusing to cry in front of the squad and Alex, especially on your first day. Throughout the day, you felt Alex gazing at you every time you made a pitch or expressed your opinions.

You were ready to leave the precinct when you felt a tug on your blazer sleeve. You turned to see Alex towering over you, her piercing blue eyes glazing down into yours.

"Y/N, can we talk?" Her face showed worry that she would be rejected, and she honestly wouldn't blame you after she just left without any contact.

"Sure." You agreed as you opened the door to an empty interrogation room, leading the way inside of it.

"Alex. Why did you just leave? I understood you leaving for this job but I never heard off you. I really missed you!" Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes, but you tried your best to mask your sadness with a serious facade.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I heard so many stories about how relationships and friendships faltered under the stress and intensity of working at the Special Victims Unit. I was so scared that you'd have enough of me being too busy to talk or to see you, so I thought that if I cut contact with you, it wouldn't hurt as much as if you ditched me. I was so scared to let you go Y/N and I'm sorry that I never got to tell you."

"Tell me what?" You questioned.

"That I...I love you." She admitted.

"W-What?"

"Y/N, I love you so much. I never wanted to leave you and I regret never telling you any sooner."

"Alex... I-I love you too. I missed you so much."

You embraced her, tucking you head into the crook of her neck, taking in the scent that you had missed so much since she had left. She kissed the top of your head, before lifting your head to face her. Her eyes gazed at your lips, her tongue reaching out to wetten her own.

You leaned in towards her, your head tilting upwards, your lips locking in a gentle but love-filled kiss, the kiss speaking louder than any words that Alex could say.

"Will you give me a second chance?" Alex's eyes were full of hope, awaiting your answer to her question.

"On one condition. You don't leave me again."

"I promise."

[nytb]

One Of Your Kind

A hopeless romantic lost in a world where everything seems transactional. Talented, tenacious, temporary. That was the best description of Y/N, an upcoming actress.

Playing the main character in am exploding Netflix Original series came with it's benefits. Invitations to the most prestigious fashion shows, VIP tickets for concerts, but most importantly - special treatment when it came to visiting Arsenal when Y/N so wished.

Realising how much of a football fanatic Y/N was came as a sweet surprise. Childhood fotos wearing the Arsenal kit, following the whole women and men's squad on social media, interactions with the players, a true gunner.

Y/N was known to visit the Emirates Stadium, but she was a regular at Meadow Park, having a soft spot for the women's team.

Having been introduced to Alex Scott, an Arsenal legend, Y/N had great company for the home games. The players got used to her regular assistance, getting post game chats with the star. Every encounter, everybody would end up fangirling on whoever they ended up talking to, but when it came to Y/N and Leah, they always managed to keep the chats down to earth, interesting, flirty but playful.

Over months, Y/N would bring her co-stars, friends, rumoured romances to watch Arsenal. Y/N's sexuality being mostly a secret to the public eye, fans would end up shipping their star with everybody she came in contact with. Leah wasn't an exception. The difference : Leah's fanbase.

Both groups managed to gel like they were supposed to merge into one, both sides cheering for the possibility of their favourite power-couple.

On a home game, the fandom's wishes became true - or as true as rumoured relationships get to be.

Leah's injury made her watch the games from the stands, but this time she was sat next to Y/N. Talking all throughout the game, cheering, screaming, complaining and shouting their lugs out together. The both of them seemed to have a great time, so much so, that a post match dinner became a requirement. This occurrence soon became a tradition, posting their evening shennanigans to their social medias.

After Leah's return from injury, Arsenal went on a winning streak, getting on a title chase against Manchester United. The gunners were the favourites, but when it came to facing the Red Devils, they had to show why they were backed by so many to win the league. Tied at 28 points with them and Chelsea - it was the gunner's chance to capitalise.

The match in itself wasn't as exciting as most had predicted, at least result wise. Sure, both teams getting their chances in front of goal, missing sitters, giving away dumb fouls, but it all ended on a narrow win for Arsenal. Some would agree that it was an undeserved one.

Post match, Leah was called for media duties. Y/N not far behind, hearing the Arsenal's captain defend her girls to the press "It wasn't a great match, but in times like these, we have to regroup, correct our mistakes and grow as a team" she declared before saying her goodbyes to the press.

"Not happy about the game huh" Y/N stated, keeping her eyes to the ground, knowing that Leah wouldn't be in a great mood after her team's performance.

"We are better than that you know" Leah seamed angry, but kept her tone very calm around Y/N "I won't let that take anything away from tonight though" the midfielder added opening her car door for the actress.

"Quite the gentlewoman I got here" replied, giving Leah a kiss on the cheek before getting into the midfielders car "So, where are we off to tonight?" Y/N questioned the Arsenal skipper as she entered the drivers seat "I'm feeling sushi tonight" she answered "How about we go to your favourite sushi place?", a suggestion that came with implications.

"Are you sure?" Y/N asked "People have been narrowing in on us you know" It was true, at some point, so many outings together started to make less sense when both chucked it down to being just friends. Especially when most of these outings were of just the two of them. "What could go wrong?" Leah asked, a mischevious look in her face.

What about a whole lot - paparazzis flooding the restaurants entrance as the outing became public knowledge. Going out with famous people sure got thrilling, but leaving places out the back door to avoid paps wasn't as glamorous.

"Ok.. in hindsight" Leah grabbed onto Y/N's hands "it might have been a silly idea" she joked, trying to lighten the mood from a night that was clearly turning sour by the minute "Why are we hiding this" Y/N questioned, pointing to the both of them. Leah left speechless. Was there a reason? They surely knew what they were getting into after the first couple of dates... right?

"Now that you ask..." the midfielder rambled "we never really talked about what we are" she struggled to get words out. Y/N on the other hand had enough courage for the both of them "Well after the what... 20 dates?" Y/N guessed, having lost the count of the sleepless nights spent in Leah's apartment "I kinda guessed that we were well into dating" she finished, clearly not scared about the consequences this situationship would entail.

"So you would just.. tell them that? It's surely not that simple" the midfielder clearly had forgotten that like everyone else, Y/N was a person first. "You do know that I am one of your kind right?" Y/N joked getting herself ready to face the media "Let's get into trouble shall we"

[dol-dee]

So... you imagine DoL set in the early 2000s? ME TOO. Tell me more about that!

aaaaaaa yes I do!!!! (Sorry for the late reply haha. I kept forgetting to come back to this ask) I think I started to feel that way pretty early on, since there's hardly any electronics around in game.

You don't have access to a phone yourself (which, admittedly makes sense as an orphan) but electronics get barely mentioned in general. (I'm guessing the true reason for it, is that it would be too much of a hassle to implement electronics as a mechanic in game. bc arguably you should easily be able to buy a phone or w/e later on, if dol actually took place in our time) Named npcs often have phones to record you with (which I kinda forgot about tbh lmao) but unless in that context, phones don't get brought up at all iirc. None of the named npcs ever ask you for your phone number and Social media isn't really a topic of conversation either.

The only Computers that I remember mentioned in game are Leightons, Mickey's, Kylars and the one you can check in the police station. (I don't remember if Bailey even has one or not.) They are far and few between. They also all read as desktop computers to me and not laptops. Hell, the only gaming Console to ever be a topic of interest, is Robins. I don't think we hear of/see any handheld conosles at all. Even TV's rarely get mentioned.

Pop Culture, like manga, anime and games doesn't seem to be a big thing yet either.

All of that gives me the impression that most electronic is still pretty sparse and hard to come around and kinda reminds me of my childhood when those interests where still conisdered niche/nerdy and weird. The few characters that have desktop pc's seem to be ones that had/have enough money (like Kylar, maybe Bailey?) to foot the bill, are either in a high enough position of power to own one (like leighton) or they're involved enough in shady business that they might have the resources to have their own equipment (Mickey).

tbf a lot of my reasoning can be argued against or easily explained away, but I think dol is infinitely more interesting as a game/story when it's set during the early/mid 2000s, where most electronics were still hard to come by.

Oh and last but not least: it simply makes for easier story telling haha. I think there would be way more ""plot holes"" you'd have trouble explaining away if it was set during modern times. considering how much digital surveilance we have nowadays.

Aside from all the examples I just brought up, dol just has that 2000s grime to me. It's so grungy and dank in it's vibes that it always reminds me of that timeframe. Just has that kinda clunky/kitschy charm to it. (a more eclectic personal explanation is that the seasons in game still feel the way I remember them for my childhood. nowadays everything feels really out of wack thanks to global warming. Although I'm sure that people who are older than me would say the same haha)

to keep this already long post short(er lmao) I'm gonna go into some headcanons under the cut; Basically which Characters have electronics and why:

Avery: has an expensive af and extremely clunky looking (by todays standards) work laptop, that she sometimes lugs around. Also owned one of the first mobile phones. Those really big and blocky ones. Maybe even had one of those phones that were built into cars. However, I think shed be kinda annoyed by mobile phones*, even if she's extremely diligent in answering her calls. (the grind never stops) *based on this comic from 1919 about pocketphones: Mostly because she strikes me as someone who doesn't care to be overly accessible and also hates it when whatever shes doing at the moment gets disrupted by something else.

Alex: Canonically has a phone in game. To me it's a landline phone. They don't own much electronics beside it. They have no desktop pc and no mobile phone. (canonically the own a tv and I feel like they'd have a radio, maybe even an old record player) Bailey: It would make sense for them to have a desktop computer but I can't remember if they canonically (and with that I mean in game) do have one or not. I could see it either way tbh. As they strike me as a stubborn hard ass whos paranoid about electronics and quickly gets annoyed by it) They only own burner phones aside from the official landline phone thats designated for "over the counter" orphanage business. Eden: Has an old ass radio and an extremely dusty burner phone that bailey gave them once. They don't own anything else

Harper: has a mobile phone they got from Remy, it's purely for business. I don't think they have one for personal business. They own a pager though bc of the hospital. They probably have a desktop pc too if only for hospital stuff.

Kylar: Has a Desktop pc, their parents footed the bill for that many screened monstrosity (tbf i dont know enough to remember if old pcs are even able to have several monitors connected to them or not). Probably had a mobile phone once. Whitney stole it. They own a few consoles but they prefer pc gaming (pc master race /j) Some 2000s era games (with no consideration for an exact timeframe) that I think Kylar would be into are : Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines American McGee's Alice Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 / Persona 3 Portable The Urbz: Sims in the City The Sims 2 The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask

Robin: No mobile phone, the only electronics they keep around (until they inevitably need to sell them for emergency money) are an old tv and a gaming console. I have no concrete headcanons regarding the exact console and games unfortunately. (They seem to like superhero related stuff and I don't remember enough games that I associate with that direction of the top of my head)

Sydney: Has access to a landline phone but thats it. they don't have a mobile phone. Maybe they got to look at/ try out a pc at Kylars house once upon a time, but I don't think Sirris has one themself. I might be off with this but I could see Sirris being the one who bought a few early nintendo consoles like the SNES and Game Cube. Maybe even a gameboy.

Whitney: I don't think Whitney or their family is particularly wealthy so all of the access to electronics that they got, is either through wealthier friends, bullying or stealing. They have a mobile phone and probably a few handheld consoles they nabbed off their victims (in secret).

[tastefulstars]

He's With The Band

You intimidate Steve a little but that doesn't stop him from wanting you.

steve harrington x f!reader (best friend!eddie x reader)

warnings: 18+ only mdni. eddie tries to be a good wingman but doesn't really manage it. r thinks she's too out there for steve and steve thinks r and eddie are together. unprotected sex. car sex. dirty talk. oral (f receiving). floor sex. switch steve i guess (more sub steve than anything). not proof read.

w/c: 4.4k

masterlist

You were excited, nerves fluttering in your stomach. Anxiety always ate at you before a show, no matter how much you enjoyed yourself. Putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you give yourself a once over in the mirror and grin. Your tartan print pants fit your legs and ass beautifully, chains hanging and tinkling as you walk, and your shirt was ripped and faded and you knew that everyone would probably get a glimpse of your cleavage at some point.

You look good.

Your friends and band-mates, Alex, Sean and Tony, call out for you and you rush over to them. You wrap your arms around them, creating a little huddle and you bounce on your toes.

“I’m so ready!” You cheer, “Are you ready?”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Let’s fuckin’ go, baby!”

"I was born ready" Sean laughs, accented voice filling the space.

You laugh and as you all hype each other up, giving each other a gentle squeeze before breaking away. You grab your guitar and walk onstage.

You step up to the microphone, take a deep breath and pluck the opening notes to your first song of the night.

You belt out songs, loosing yourself in the moment and by the end of your set, you're covered in sweat and breathing hard. You always loved the thrill of it, riding the high long after you'd left the stage.

All you wanted to do was have a couple drinks and relax but you also didn't want to leave the boys to have to pack up your equipment. Your arms ached as you lugged the guitar cases to the van, you groan as you place them inside.

You hear loud laughter and you grin.

"Hey, I'll be back in a tick" You tell Alex and he waves you away dismissively, rolling his eyes.

You almost run towards the laugh, beaming.

"Hugs incoming!" You laugh and launch yourself at Eddie.

He opens his arms and catches you, spinning you around squeezing you tight. You hold onto his shoulders as he places you back onto your feet.

"I didn't think you were coming tonight"

"Don't be silly" He laughs, "I'll always come to your shows. I even managed to drag my friends along"

He gestures to the people lingering around him, watching you both curiously. You turn slightly, wrapping your arm around Eddie's waist as you beam at them and wave.

"Ah, thanks for coming"

"Not gonna lie, half of them only came because I told them that there was a girl fronting a rock band" Eddie teases and you roll your eyes.

"This is Robin, Nancy, Steve" Eddie gestures to each of them as he introduces them, "Erica, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Will, El and Mike"

"You guys were awesome" Dustin says.

"You, um, really put on a show" Nancy says, and you laugh.

"Ahh, I know our music isn't for everyone. Did you have a good time, though?"

"Oh absolutely" She says, nodding her head.

"I didn't think that I would enjoy it, to be honest" Robin starts, "But it's kind of refreshing to see a woman fronting the kind of music Eddie listens to"

Eddie snorts at her comment and rolls his eyes, leaning down he loudly whispers to you.

"Robin thinks it's just noise, not real music like Cyndi Lauper"

You laugh loudly at the disgust in his voice and you see her flush with embarrassment, you shoot her a soft smile to let her know you don't mean any harm.

You laugh as they chat, cuddling into Eddie and enjoying his and his friend's company. You glance over at Steve a few times and see him quickly look away each time you catch his eye. You can't help yourself, dragging your gaze over him, enjoying his soft eyes and fluffy hair.

"Hey Egg!" You hear Tony shout from the van, "Quit slackin' off and come help us!"

You groan and hug Eddie harder, burying your face into his chest and he laughs as you cling to him.

"No!" You shout back, your voice muffled by Eddie's shirt. You feel his chest shake with laughter.

"Go on" He says, "I'll hang out for a bit and we can catch up after"

You pull away, pointing at him sternly.

"Don't go anywhere"

You say as you start to walk backwards before you turn around and head back to the van, continuing to help load the equipment into the van. You glance over every few minutes to check Eddie and his group were still there.

Once you slide the van shut, you immediately start walking back to Eddie. Alex, Tony and Sean following behind you. Eddie smiles at you and you slot yourself back into his side, his arm resting around your shoulders.

"Hey man" He greets your band-mates, "Good show tonight"

"Thanks Eddie" Sean says.

You tune out a lot of the conversation, eyes drifting back to Steve every few moments. You turn slightly, squeezing Eddie and peering up at him as he looks over to you.

"Yes?" He raises his eyebrow and you purse your lips.

"Is, um" You lean in closer and whisper, face flushing, "Is Steve like, seeing anyone?"

A big smile slowly spreads over Eddie's face and he wiggles his eyebrows, making you groan and scrunch your face up.

"Forget it" You pout and he shakes his head, stepping away from the group and pulling you along with him.

"We'll be back in a second" He throws over his shoulder.

Eddie leads you to his van, offering you a smoke. You lean against the side of the van as you light it, side flush with his.

"From what I know, Steve's not dating and not wanting to get involved with anyone" He tells you as you inhale the cigarette, you pass it to him.

"Why do you wanna know?" He asks and your stomach flips.

"Um. I, I dunno- guess I wanted to know if I had a shot"

"Hmm. Look - to be completely honest with you and I'm not saying this to hurt you or anything okay? But I don't think I've ever seen Steve with anyone who isn't the Good Girl Next Door cookie cutter type. Go for it though honey, if you don't at least ask him you'll never know"

Something curls deep in your stomach and you sigh, knowing that a lot of people had passed on you because of the way you dress, your way of life, your Take No Shit attitude.

It wasn't the first time you'd been told something along the lines of 'if only you weren't... like that".

"Thanks Eds, I guess one day I'll find someone who likes me for me"

You laugh awkwardly as the two of you pass the cigarette between each other.

"What are you talkin' about, I'm right here" Eddie says hands flapping around himself and you laugh, rolling your eyes.

"You know what I mean" You groan.

"Ahh, like someone who wants to get all up inside you?" He laughs and you shove him.

"We could never work" He sighs dramatically, "We'd be too powerful"

"You mean we'd crash and burn real quick" You tease.

It's not like you hadn't thought about it but you just couldn't see Eddie as someone you wanted in that way. You wanted him to be in your life, be in his life for as long as you could. He was one of your soulmates, your closest friend and someone you could count on for anything, but it was all platonic.

You chew on your lower lip, you sigh and push off the van.

"Better get goin'" You mumble, holding your hand out and wrap your hand around his.

You can't help but feel a little disappointed and you know your smile fell a little short when you reached the group. Tony raises his eyebrow at you and you scrunch your nose slightly.

"Well, it's been great meeting you all but we should probably head off" Tony says.

You say your goodbyes to Eddie's friends, disappointment filling your throat as you reach Steve. You give Eddie another big hug, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek.

"See ya around, baby doll"

Eddie's loud, bark of laughter follows you to Alex's van. You climb in the front, glancing over to Sean and Tony squished in the back amongst all the gear.

"You okay, Egg?" Tony asks, "You looked a little upset when you and Eddie got back"

"Yeah" You sigh, looking out the window as Alex starts the drive to his home, "Just sucks hearing that someone wouldn't give you a chance 'cause of the way you dress"

"So which one of Eddie's friends do you fancy, then?" Sean asks and you groan, hating how well the boys knew you.

"Not telling" You pout, not wanting to give them any more ammunition to tease you.

"I bet it was the girl, Robin was it?" Alex muses.

"Nah, it was totally Nancy" Tony shoots back.

"You lot are mad" Sean laughs, "She was clearly checking out Steve the entire time"

You huff, crossing your arms over your stomach and turn to face the window much to their amusement.

You hate that you can't get him out of your head. Images of his warm eyes and his kissable lips and his fluffy hair flash behind your closed eyes, driving you insane with want.

You're so worked up that you get yourself off multiple times over the weeks to fantasies involving Steve. You imagine him fucking you hard and fast in the dirty bathroom of the club, imagine sliding your way down his body and sucking him down your throat and listening to the noises he makes, imagine him pressing you against the door of a dressing room and burying his fingers inside you.

You let your fantasies run wild and you almost hate yourself for it and it certainly didn't help that you see Steve everywhere. Heading to work? Steve's running past. Pushing your cart at the grocery store? Steve's coming around the corner. You're dropping off some equipment Eddie asked to borrow? Steve's spread out on his couch.

There's a Corroded Coffin show tonight and you decide to dress your best, let loose and maybe go home with a a cutie. You feel great - black band shirt loose around your torso paired with a short black skirt and your leather jacket. You pull on long boots that sit an inch or so over your thighs, teasing a flash of skin between them and your skirt.

You take your time styling your hair and doing your makeup and you carefully slide rings onto your fingers. You looked sexy and felt it.

You didn't expect to see Steve there, wearing tight jeans and a loose shirt that had the sleeves torn off. You got an eyeful of his strong arms and chest, your mouth floods with saliva and your cunt gushes, clenching around nothing and you ache.

"Hey!" He smiles warmly at you when he spots you, speaking loudly and leaning close so you can hear him over the music, "Eddie will be glad you're here"

He stays close to you throughout the set, making your skin burn. You try to ignore it but your eyes dart to him every few minutes and you don't know if you want to throw yourself into the crowd and loose yourself in the music or grab Steve and plant a desperate kiss on his lips.

The show wraps up all too soon and you find yourself leaning against a table, Steve next to you. The two of you sip on your drinks while you wait for Eddie to pack away the gear and the people to slowly leave.

"Eds always puts on a great show" You say into your glass, eyes flicking to Steve.

"Yeah" Steve says, turning to face you, "Never thought I'd like it so much but I do"

"Not a big metal head, huh?"

Steve laughs and shakes his head, he lifts his glass and your eyes fall to his fingers. You swallow hard and force yourself to look away, to not watch as he presses his lips against the rim.

You squirm and press your thighs tightly together, feeling the wet slickness soaking your undies. You almost whine when his tongue darts out and licks at his lips.

"There you two are"

Eddie stands between you and Steve, forcing his way into the small space and throws his arms over both your shoulders. You groan and push away from him.

"Fuck off, Ed" You say as you shove at his arm, "You're so fuckin' sweaty"

"Oh" He lets go of you to press his hand against his chest, "You don't like my sweaty musk?"

He stares at you with wide eyes and you screw your face up.

"No"

"I'm hurt"

"Good" You shoot back and he drops his arm, laughing.

Steve's glancing between the two of you like he's trying to work something out.

"You want a drink?" You ask Eddie.

"Please"

He smiles at you and you move to the bar.

There's still a number of people milling about and it takes you a little longer to get the attention of the bartender than usual. You carefully carry Eddie's drink back to the table and see him deep in conversation with Steve.

Eddie glances at you as you approach and beams, thanking you as you place the drink in front of him. You feel a little awkward, like you're intruding and focus on drinking and people watching while they talk.

"Right" Eddie says loudly, startling you, "I'm going to mingle with my adoring fans"

You snort at him and he gives you both a look. Steve rubs the back of his neck, eyes darting around the room.

"So, um- ah, how long have you been in your band?"

"Oh, a couple years now. Met Eds not too long after at a gig"

"That's cool" He says.

"How 'bout you? How'd you and Eddie meet?"

"We, um, met at school - Dustin, Lucas and Mike were all in a club Eddie ran"

"The Hellfire club?" You laugh and Steve nods.

"Yeah, he tell you about it?"

"Mhm, heard all about the campaigns and everything"

Steve looks over to you, laughing and eyes sparkling in the low light and you feel your heart flutter. You bite your lower lip and Steve's eyes drop to your mouth, he swallows hard.

Hope blooms in your chest and you slide a little closer to Steve, you don't miss the way he shifts nervously.

"How, how long you and Eddie been together then?" His voice is rough and he's staring at the people dancing.

"What?"

He glances at you and sighs.

"Aren't you and Eddie, like, dating?"

"God no" You say as you pull a face, "Don't get me wrong, I love him but no"

Steve's eyes go a little wide and his lips part, he breathes a soft 'oh' and you shake your head. You lean in closer and don't miss the way he flushes.

"Tell you the truth?" You murmur, "Eddie isn't my type"

"No?" He breathes, eyes flicking between yours and your lips.

"No. I like soft, pretty boys with warm brown eyes"

Your stomach flutters painfully as you watch the flush spread over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

"You, uh - um" He stutters , "The night we met, at your show. You, you looked like you could beat the shit out of me and um, turns out I'm really into that"

You let out a giddy laugh.

"I think I could take you"

Steve licks his lips, eyes dragging up to yours. His pupils are blown out and he looks so, so hot.

"Yeah?" He breathes and you nod slightly.

"Mmm you want me to manhandle you a bit, huh?"

You love the way his face slackens and lips part, his eyebrows pull together slightly and you want to just press him against the table and lick your way up his neck. Steve flushes deeper.

"Maybe"

You shift, pressing into his space and bury your fingers in his hair. You hesitate, glancing at his lips before looking him in the eyes. Steve doesn't make you wait, hands wrapping around you and pulling you flush against him as he presses his lips against yours.

Steve pulls back slightly, far enough that you both can gasp for air before you lick at his lip. Steve whines softly against your mouth and you feel your insides shake.

The noise of the bar disappears as Steve holds you, his lips against yours.

You're not sure how long the two of you stand there, clinging to each other and making out but you start feeling like your nerves are exposed. Raw need eats at you and you're aching so badly, your cunt hurts.

You think you might go insane if he doesn't touch you soon.

"Steve" Your voice is shaky, "If we don't go somewhere else right now, I'm gonna cry"

"We don't want that"

He teases you as his strong hands grip your hips and gently tug you towards the door as he walks backwards.

You think you hear Eddies voice saying 'fuckin' finally' but you're too focused on Steve to pay much attention to it.

You press Steve against the side of his car, fingers winding around his hair and pressing a fiery, desperate kiss against his lips. You slide one of your legs in between his and grind down on his thigh. He groans softly and grips you so tightly, you think you might just melt into him.

"Fucking hell" Steve groans, throwing his head back and rocking against you.

You pant as you feel his cock hardening and you whine a little, feeling every thick inch of him pressed against you. You shove your hand between you and grip him through his jeans, Steve shudders and thrusts sharply against your palm.

You suck at his neck and curl your fingers, pressing firmly.

"Baby, we should. We should, go" You murmur as you lick his skin.

He fumbles and pulls his keys out of his back pocket and you peel yourself away from him. Steve clumsily unlocks his door and you climb into his car. Your hands don't leave him, you paw at his thighs and rub his chest as he drives.

"You takin' me home?" You purr and Steve clenches his jaw and his knuckles go white as he grips the wheel.

He grunts and pulls off, coming to a stop on the side of a quiet road. He pushes at you as he climbs into the backseat and you almost throw yourself over the seat.

You climb onto his lap and slam your lips onto his, Steve's hands gripping hard on your hips and pulling you down onto him. You bury your fingers in his hair and reach down between you, unzipping his jeans and tugging his cock out.

"Fuck, Steve" You whine as you stroke him, "Need you inside me"

Steve whimpers softly and you pull your undies aside, lowering yourself down on him. You moan loudly as his cock stretches you, the pleasurable burn as you sink down overcoming your senses.

"God you're so fucking wet" Steve moans, head tilting back and thumping against the headrest.

You lift yourself and slam yourself back down, riding him in a steady rhythm. Steve holds you and rocks up to meet you. The only noises filling the car are your combined heavy breathing, moans and the squelching of your cunt.

You chant his name as you work yourself on his cock, moaning and whispering into Steve's mouth.

"You feel so good, so big. Wanna come all over your huge cock, baby"

Steve presses his fingers between you, circling at your clit and you whine.

"You gonna come with me?" You breathe against Steve's lips, sharing air.

"Yeah, yeah" Steve whines, "'m close. You're so tight"

You both move faster, harder. Focusing on reaching your climaxes.

"Oh, god" You moan, "Don't stop, ah fuck, Steve"

"I'm gonna-" Steve grunts and you cry out as your own release slams into you.

Fire burns under your skin and you shake, pure pleasure coursing through your veins. You clench and flutter around Steve, milking his cock and making him groan.

You mouth at Steve's neck and sigh softly as he holds you tight against him.

"God damn" He breathes and you chuckle, pulling back and cupping his cheek. You kiss him softly.

"Better still be taking me home"

Steve laughs and pepper kisses over your face.

"As soon as you hop off me, gorgeous"

You pout and raise yourself, whining as Steve's cock slides out of you along with his fluid. You push your undies back into place to catch it all and climb off Steve, pushing the door open and stumbling out on shaky legs.

Steve follows you and you both fall back into the front of the car, Steve lets a small noise as he pulls back onto the road, speeding his way to his home while you whisper the filthy things you want to do to him.

The both of you practically fall out of the car, tripping over yourselves in your rush to get inside.

Steve presses you against the door as soon as you step inside, kissing you. His hands wander over your body, slipping under your shirt and gripping at your skin.

You hum and tip your head back, leaning heavily against the door. Steve kisses his way down your throat before dropping to his knees, pressing your legs apart.

He runs his palms up your boots, traveling up your thighs and pushing your skirt up until it bunches up around your waist. You peer down at him and moan as he stares up at you from under his lashes, face slack with desire.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your undies and pulls them down, letting them drop down your legs before he presses his mouth against your cunt.

Your eyes flutter closed and you bury your hands in his hair, pressing him firmly against you. Steve moans as he licks his way into your folds, his thumb sliding over until he can press it against your clit.

You shift, raising a leg to hook over his shoulder. You whine as he tilts his head in order to press his tongue into your entrance, pushing it as far as he could.

"Fuck, Steve" You moan, rocking your hips up into his mouth, "You- ahh, you're so good"

Your praise spurs him on, making him press himself harder against you and devour your cunt faster.

"So good to me" You whine, fingers digging into his scalp and tugging on his silky hair, "Gonna make me come again"

You feel his moan vibrate through you and you shake, core tensing and you can feel it building. Moans slip past your lips as Steve almost desperately eats you out, nipping and licking and sucking at your cunt until you can't take it anymore.

"Ohh, Steve"

You shake against him, vision blacking out and stars bursting behind your closed eyelids. Your knee buckles and Steve carefully lowers you down until you're pressed between the door and him. You pant harshly and tug at him, slamming your mouth against his and licking your own juices from his lips and chin.

The kiss turns filthy quickly and you pull away, tearing his shirt off his body before you pull your jacket and shirt off. Steve's hands immediately go to your torso, feeling your skin and palming at your tits.

"You're so fucking pretty" He whines, "Wanna fuck you"

"You can fuck me, baby"

You sigh, trailing your fingers down his torso and hooking your fingers into his jeans, popping the button and slowly dragging the zipper down.

"You gonna fuck me here on the floor?"

He turns you, laying you down on your back as he slides your boots off your legs before pulls your skirt off. He kisses his way up your stomach until he reaches your lips.

"You want me to fuck you on the floor"

You bite your lip and flush.

"Yeah" You whine, "Come on, baby doll. Fuck me like you mean it"

He drops his head and groans, furiously shoving his jeans down his hips. He kicks them off his legs and grabs your hips, pulling you close to him and wastes no time pressing into your soaking cunt.

Your back arches and you moan softly, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist and clinging to him.

Steve fucks you hard and rough, focused entirely on his own pleasure and you feel a thrill go through you at the idea of being used. Steve's groans and grunts fill the space as he thrusts into you. The push pull of Steve's thick cock fills you with ecstasy and you revel in it.

"You're so fucking tight" He groans into your ear, "So perfect for me"

You feel your cunt gush around Steve's cock at his words and you dig your nails into the soft flesh of his back.

"Ah fuck" Steve's soft groans, "God, so perfect. Perfect pussy"

Steve's babbling mindlessly as he rocks into you, spearing his cock deep inside you and making you squirm under him.

You pry your eyes open and gaze at Steve - his eyebrows drawn up in pleasure, lips parted and face flushed. You clench down on him and watch as his face contorts in pleasure.

"Come on, baby" You breathe, "Come on"

Your encouragement is all it takes for Steve's hips to stutter, slowing until he's gently rocking himself through his orgasm.

He collapses on top of you, his face buried in your shoulder and you feel his panting breath against your hot skin. You hold him close and stroke his back and his hair.

"Good, honey?"

"Mmm"

He shifts and leans over you, gazing at you sweetly before leaning down to press his lips against yours. He rocks against you softly and you whine.

"Want you to fuck me until the only thing I remember is your name"

[vectorneon]

Sé que vendrás versión 2023 llega a Spotify y todas las plataformas digitales, un track que fue publicado en la compilación "Unisex" del sello Dinero Rosa Records en el años 2004, y fue incluido en la banda sonora de la película "Así del Precipicio", esta de vuelta en su versión actualizada y recargada. ¡Entréguense al placer de disfrutarla!

Da click aquí para gozarla.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

I’ve kinda already written about this before with the college AU I started a while ago but I have a mighty need for a life drawing workshop with Ghost and Soap.

Like maybe Soap runs some classes in a local bar venue space or something and he puts out ads every so often for models. Ghost meanwhile is discharged from the army with a shitty shoulder injury and no where to go. After going for a pint with Gaz to commiserate, and drown their shared sorrows of having to leave army life, Gaz tells Ghost about a new side hustle he has going ever since he’d had to leave months prior.

Ghost snorts out a laugh at first “are you bloody joking? You. A life model?”

Gaz pretends not to get too offended, but rolls his eyes and take a drink.

“It’s not as weird as you think. You stand in a couple different poses-“

“With your kit off,” Ghost chuckles.

“Yes, with your kit off,” Gaz huffs. “You get told how to stand and what props to use and then a bunch of people draw you for a couple hours. It’s totally painless and you get decent dosh for it. I do Soap’s class twice a month and Alex’s class three times - it’s easy money, plus it’s cash in hand so HMRC don’t have to be any the wiser bout it.”

“Hang on a minute, Soap?” Ghost says, shaking his head. “What kind of a name is Soap? He gives you props as well? What next, does he ask you to dance for him too? Give ‘im the old dazzle dazzle, do you?”

“Fuck off Ghost.”

“Aw, im only messing. ‘Sides even if I wanted to do little poses for your art class, I wouldn’t be able to. My shoulder’s buggered remember? I wouldn’t be able to hold a lot of positions for long.”

“Soap’s pretty understanding. He can pick poses that suit your body and he can adjust the times so that you don’t have to stay still too long if you can’t take it. You just have to tell him about your injury and he’ll be understanding.”

Ghost shook his head again and took another gulp.

“Fuckin’ Soap.”

“He’s an eccentric guy, but he’s cool,” Gaz shrugs. “Do you want me to speak to him for you? He’s usually on the lookout for new models.”

Ghost would say he’d need to take some time to think about it, but Gaz would take that as a yes. So a few days roll by and soon enough Ghost gets a text through telling him that Soap would be ‘well up’ for meeting him and said he should come by the next evening before class.

Ghost - I told you I’d think about it, you twat. Not to go on ahead and tell him I wanna join his little cult.

Gaz - show up or don’t, you can think about it all you like between now and then. You’ll thank me later 🤪

After that last text Gaz then sent him a picture of a wad of cash and few coins spread out over a blotted bar top. Ghost would sigh, but as soon as he saw that money he knew his decision was made. He needed something until he was able to figure out what to do with the rest of his life, something to tide him over till he received payments for his injury.

He’d turn up for Soap’s class with a flustered air around him and would step through the shadowy doorway to the bar with soft unsure steps. It was still early, there wouldn’t be many people inside. He’d ask the barman where the function room was and sullenly walk through the curtain, raising his brows when he’d finally lay eyes on Soap.

Ghost wouldn’t know what to expect but it’s not the mohawked barrel of a man that’s lugging chairs around the room and running around like a little worker ant. His eyes would linger on the muscles that were exposed from Soap’s paint and charcoal stained tank top and he’d watch on wordlessly, widening his eyes when Soap would finally notice him. He’d dig his nails into his palms to try to stop himself from blushing in embarrassment.

“You’re a bit early for the class’ mate,” Soap would huff, settling another chair around the raised stage. “Looking to join?”

“Uh sort of,” Ghost would say, frowning as he struggled to find words around the bodybuilder/artist. “My friend Gaz, uh Kyle you probably know him as - he said you were looking for more models and that I should come by…”

Soap’s eyes would light in recognition and he’d smile warmly, striding over to greet Ghost properly. Ghost wouldn’t be prepared for the warm grip in Ghost’s handshake and he especiallly wasn’t prepared for those big blue crystalline eyes to be roaming over him as if they were mentally taking him apart.

“Simon right?” Soap would say, revealing a perfect white grin. “I’m Soap, John’s my name, but I prefer Soap so you can go with that, yeah? Kyle mentioned you had a shoulder injury and that you weren’t sure you could hold certain poses.”

Ghost would straighten up then and nod, pointing out which one it was. From then Soap would take him through a few positions and would discuss the technicalities with him, were Ghost to join. Apparently it was easy to make accommodations for him, and Soap would be more than pleased to have him as a model, and like Kyle had already mentioned, the pay was pretty good.

Ghost would grow interested the more he would hear and eventually Soap would wear him down enough into taking him through a few practice ones. They would be relatively easy, and Ghost would find himself realising that Gaz was right - it was easy money. Plus Soap was no bad company either.

He’d be convinced into watching the class that night and getting to have a little taster of what he would be doing. The model that night would be a tiny little thing, a dancer, and would hold the most intricate stances for the eager artists to draw, contorting themselves into pretzel like shapes that Ghost couldn’t possibly hold. They’d capture his attention for a minute, but Ghost would always find himself staring at Soap right after.

He’d watch the way he directed the model, stroking the air to dictate how he wanted them and guiding them gently into form all without physically touching. He’d encourage the artists, complimenting a few people, and helping anyone that needed guidance. His favourite would be when the others would fall silent and Soap would take to gathering himself a pencil and paper and drawing for a little bit. The immense concentration, the way he’d clench his jaw and narrow his eyes would be so captivating and there was nothing that could stop Ghost looking away. Nothing that could stop him from wondering what it would be like having Soap’s eyes on him like that.

As it turns out it would almost steal all the breath from his lungs. Ghost would be sitting on that same stage the next week, stone faced and gritting his teeth through the slight chill in the air. He’d be used to resisting the cold, though he wouldn’t be used to all the eyes on his naked body, most of all Soap’s as his furrowed brow stayed glued to him. Ghost would swear that Soap could read his thoughts, could strip his mind just as easily as his body and he would know that Ghost was developing a stupid obsession with him (he’d refuse to think of it as a crush).

He’d look purposely look away on the next pose and would still feel Soap’s eyes on him still. They’d warm a path from the bones at his collar, all the way down the ridges of his pecs and right down to the pit of his belly. Butterflies would dance where his empty stomach should have been.

He’d love and hate it in equal measure, barely feeling the eyes of Soap’s gaggle of students because of the intensity of their teacher, but he would still show up again the next week and the next after that. Just hoping that maybe one night it wouldn’t be his own hands pulling the cord on his robe, perhaps he could embrace a pair covered in charcoal and graphite and entice them to touch instead of trace the air. He’d want to break through Soap’s page and show him new colours, tear the world as he knew it apart in only the way that Ghost could.

[strayy-starss]

✧A/N: Hey guys! This is my first writing post, and it's mainly just to help you guys get the feel of my writing style and the things that I'll write about. Thank you to everyone who sticks around to the end!

✧Pairing: Alex x GN!Farmer

✧WC: 1.1k

✧Warnings: None, just fluff!

☆Sun-Kissed☆

The warm summer breeze ruffled your hair as you made your way to Pierre’s shop to buy some melon seeds. As you kicked up the dirt behind you, you looked around optimistically at the blooming trees and summer flowers, and you couldn’t help but smile as you made your way to the shop, turning your face to the sky and thanking the sun for its warmth. The sun had done you justice all throughout spring, leaving you nice and tan from all your work outside every day. Additionally, the sun had helped freckles that you didn’t even know you had emerge atop the bridge of your nose. Sun-kissed, as your mom would say.

Because you hadn’t seen anyone as of late, no one commented on your tan or constant hustle, but someone did notice. Someone that stood outside his house every day, tossing a gridball into the air outside of his house as an excuse to see you make your daily rounds. Little did you know that he noticed the subtle muscles in your arms as you lugged fish around after disappearing into the entrance of the beach for hours, and he noticed the tan lines that your shirt made on your arms every time your sleeves got hiked up your arms. He noticed everything, yet he never said a word to you.

As your feet hit the stone path in town, you took a minute to breathe in the nice, fresh air of Pelican town, excited for the summer and all the things you’d be able to do this season. The thoughts of growing new crops and buying new livestock from Marnie had you smiling through your entire exchange with Pierre.

“You seem happy today,” he noticed, chuckling as you exchanged some gold for melon seeds with a smile on your face. 

“I am! It’s finally summer,” you grinned.

“I, for one, don’t like the hot weather, but it’s a good season for crops, yeah? Don’t be afraid to drop by and sell me some!”

“You got it!” you said, giving him a small salute as you left the store. You caught sight of the river on your way out, glistening in the sunshine. Your mind immediately started to run through the fish that were available during the summer, and you began to murmur to yourself incoherently, the occasional name of a summer fish slipping through your lips as your brow furrowed in concentration. You could’ve sworn there was a fish during the summer that you hadn’t caught before, but you just couldn’t put a finger on it. You started to walk back toward your farm, but before you could, a hand on your shoulder caused you to jump and turn around, surprised. 

“Oh! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the man said, his hand slipping from your shoulder and returning to the gridball in his other hand. He held onto it tightly, as if he was afraid that it would vanish if he dropped it. The gridball sparked something in your brain, and you suddenly remembered that his name was Alex.

“No problem,” you said politely, though you wanted to get back to your farm in order to plant the crops as soon as you could. 

“I heard you talking about some fish, so I decided to let you know that salmon are out and about this time of year,” he said. He then flushed a little, as if he’d only just realized what he’d said, and put a hand behind his neck, scratching at it a little as he looked anywhere but at your face.

“Salmon!” you exclaimed, your memory of the fish returning. “That’s what it was! Oh, man, you’re a lifesaver. Thank you, Alex!” 

“Uh, no problem,” Alex said, a slight smile forming on his mouth as he realized you didn’t think he was weird. “So, anyway, I know this is sort of out of the blue, but would you want to play gridball sometime? Just tossing it to each other, I mean.”

You considered this for a moment, your mind drifting back to the work at hand. You’d never really talked to Alex, only once or twice when you’d first met and you helped out his grandparents with little quests they’d send you on. Then again, it would be nice to have a friend your age, plus, you’d been working hard all of spring. You deserved a break! 

“Sure, is now okay? I need a break from work,” you said with a warm smile. He nodded, smiling back at you. “Just let me run this back to my farm. I’ll be right back!” You took off at a jog towards your farm, a smile subconsciously forming on your face. After you dropped off the seeds in your house, you hustled back to town, where Alex was waiting just as you’d left him. 

“Ready,” you said.

“Alright, wanna go down to the beach?” Alex asked, his confidence returning.

“Sounds like a plan.”

You walked in a comfortable silence next to Alex, happy that you’d been invited to something other than a community event. Alex, on the other hand, was sweating bullets worrying about his appearance, his demeanor, hell, he even worried if you would like his gridball! As soon as you arrived at the beach, you turned to him and grinned sheepishly, saying, “Sorry if I’m not the best at this; gridball isn’t my strong suit.”

“No worries,” Alex reassured you, beginning to step away before stopping and looking at you closely. You paused, your smile turning into a look of confusion. Noticing your expression, Alex flushed a little, then said, “Sorry, I just noticed you have freckles.”

This caused you to flush in turn, as no one had taken the time to see you and point out the changes in your face; even the slightest ones. You grinned at him again, happy that someone had been paying attention to the little things.

“Yeah! The sun has been doing my skin some justice. Thanks for noticing,” you said, then began to step back to put some distance between the two of you in order to start tossing the gridball.

“Sure thing,” Alex said, flushing further at your expression. He turned around as well, his hands subconsciously clutching the gridball tighter to maintain his composure. After you two had assumed your positions, Alex took a deep breath and tossed the ball to you. You caught the ball and did a little celebration jump before throwing it back to him. He grinned at your little victory jump as he caught the ball, then threw it back as you found a rhythm. As the two of you laughed and talked, you couldn’t help but think that maybe this summer would be even better than you expected.

[indigosunsetao3]

Move In Day

Second expansion of Older CIA Alex list.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

MDNI | 18+ | Please check AO3 for tags

Of all the days for it to rain, today was it. There was no backing out now though, the moving truck was packed up and the truck needed to be back by five that evening to avoid another charge. You had insisted on paying for it because your father had paid to move all your stuff back here and to sit in the storage unit. You could pay for the truck and between the two of you and some of his friends, you could lug the stuff up the stairs.

He had roped a few of his friends to help but waking up to the thunderstorms and all around miserable weather they were dropping like flies. The first call came in with an excuse of his bad back acting up; that wasn't too far-fetched but awfully convenient. Then the next one mumbled an excuse about his missus needing him at home for some sort of project. The last guy hadn't even tried to lie, he said he wasn't going to work out in the rain, and he had paid his dues working outside already.

"You and me kid," your dad says as he climbs out of the truck he had driven over.

"What?" You ask a bit exasperated as a few drops of rain hit your face, seems the break in the weather lasted long enough for the drive over.

"Not so sure I'm happy it's the third floor anymore," he states as he tilts his head back further to look up at the corner apartment. The stairs are exterior, metal, and bound to be slick despite being covered. "Not getting any younger, let's get at it then."

You sigh before digging your phone out of your pocket to see if you can find anyone. No movers for hire would be available on this short a notice but maybe a friend or two. You scroll through the meager list of recent contacts, all of them live back on the other coast or were your coworkers. No help there. But as you get to the bottom of your texts you find the one you sent to Alex a few weeks back that he never answered.

You were desperate.

Hey Alex, it's Paul's daughter. Listen, I know this is asking a lot but if you're available I could use your help. I'm moving into my apartment today and it's just us, all his friends backed out. I'm afraid he's going to give himself a heart attack lugging all this up himself.

You stare at the message for a second and wince before hitting send. He had never responded last time and you knew it seemed weird for you to reach out to him again after he left you on read. But you thought if you worded it as a favor more for your dad than you he would be more willing. Brownie points with the boss and all that.

Before you could even grab the first box from the back of the truck your phone buzzes with an answer.

Send me the address. Really? Really. I have a few hours. Oh perfect, I owe you big time. We have beer but I can get you whatever you want for payment. Don't make offers like that, trouble. Beer is fine.

"Help is on the way," you say to your dad as you lug up a lamp and clothes basket full of cleaning supplies. You know your face is bright red at the implication of the response Alex had sent you but it's easy to play off exertion from climbing the stairs.

"Found movers?" He asks as he takes the basket from you and takes it to the kitchen.

"Alex offered to help. I sent him a SOS and he said he had some time. Good thing your employees like you."

"Sure," your dad says as he stands in the kitchen entry and stares at you with a look of apprehension on his face. "You talk to him often?" His question is too casual to be just that and he knows you've made him by the glare you shoot him over your shoulder.

"Don't start," you answer as you set the lamp off in the corner of the dining room area. "This is the first time I've spoken to him since the charity gala if you must know. I just didn't want you keeling over on the stairs, old man." You smirk before adding on, "hell maybe I shouldn't have asked him either. I'll be babysitting both of your old asses."

That seems to satiate your dad's suspicious questioning. You knew his stance on work and personal life being separate, it had been his rule since you were a child. It didn't matter though, Alex had thoroughly ignored you since the gala so there was no worry about breaking your father's rules.

You had both brought a few boxes and the breakable items out of the back of your car upstairs when Alex pulled up. He's in in a truck, solid black and huge, it dwarfs your little Civic as he parks right next to it and hops out.

Fuck.

He's in workout clothes, as if you had texted him in the midst of a session at the gym and he had dropped it all to come help. His sleeveless cutout tank leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination as he reaches into the bed of his truck to grab a few items. You can see the side of his chest, the ridges of his abs, and the v that leads down to the gym shorts that are slung low over his hips. He would be in a white tank top as well. You glance up at the dark rainclouds overhead that threaten a deluge any moment and secretly pray they opened up right at that moment before getting your senses back.

"Hey!" You call from your small patio once you swallow and fix the dry throat he had created by showing up looking like that.

"Hey," Alex answers with a grin as he fixes his baseball cap before producing what he had been digging in the truck bed for. Straps and gloves to help move the bigger items. "Where's the old man?"

"Here," your dad answers as he hops out of the back of the moving truck and walks over to shake Alex's hand. They talk for a moment and you hope your father had not seen you blatantly staring at Alex a moment before. Or now. You jump as if you have been stung and quickly head back into your apartment to get back to vacuuming the living room to prep for the couch which was next.

The next few hours consist of sprinting to get furniture inside in breaks in the rain, then standing around or putting furniture back together when the skies open up. You do your best to stay out of Alex and your dad's way as they lug things up the stairs and into the apartment, merely pointing where things go. Alex also was wise enough to bring a tool kit and he sets up your bed frame with your dad's help while you try not to hover.

But just because you are not hovering doesn't mean you aren't watching. Alex, on more than one occasion, had paused to wipe at his forehead using his shirt hem as a sweat rag and putting on display the rest of his abs that were hidden by his meager tank. You stare as inconspicuously as you can each time but you know he has caught you once when he winks behind your father's back.

Then a sudden downpour catches all of you off guard. You make a run for the apartment carrying a box of clothes and Alex diverts back to the truck to save the rest of the things on the edge from getting soaked. Thanks to his effort he comes back inside dripping wet and he stands in the kitchen to spare your carpet.

His shirt is clinging to his chest, back, and well pretty much everywhere. His shorts are no better and when he takes his baseball cap off he runs a hand through his hair accidentally spraying you with the excess water. You nearly choke on your words when your dad asks if you have a towel, he's just as soaked but you certainly aren't paying him any mind at the moment.

"Sure, yeah, hang on," you squeak before hustling to the bathroom to rip open boxes to find the towels. You do your best to push the image of Alex's body under his soaked clothes into the recess of your mind but he doesn't help. He follows you to the bathroom and leans on the doorjamb to watch you dig around in boxes.

"Here," you breathe out as you hand Alex a towel before realizing it's just a hand towel and you hastily snatch it back and give him another. He's smirking from ear to ear watching you get so flustered but he doesn't say a word. He just walks past you to the bathroom sink to pull off his shirt and wring it out in the sink then dries off with the towel as best as possible before ruffling up his hair.

"I think your dad is waiting," Alex taunts as he locks eyes with you in the mirror. You were staring again and he had been watching you watch him the whole time.

"Right. Dad!" You yell out a bit too loudly as you scamper out of the bathroom and down the hall to find your dad propped up in a cloth lawn chair in the dining room already half asleep. All the moving had taken it out of him and he looked exhausted. "Dad here," you mutter handing him the towel before going to find him a water.

"I'll get the last boxes," Alex answers as he walks back out, thankfully covered by his shirt no matter how translucent it was.

True to his word he brings in the last of the boxes before accepting the beer you offer him. Your dad has tapped out in the lawn chair snoring loudly and you wince a bit as Alex laughs before heading out to the patio to watch the next round of storms rolling in.

"Thanks for your help today, I ah, I know moving someone isn't exactly a fun job," you say as you lean your arms on the railing next to him as you look over the parking lot.

"Three people are better than two. And I doubt you would have been able to haul that bedframe up. Is that shit lined with lead?" Alex asks with a laugh around the lip of his beer before taking a swig.

"It was my grandmother's, so probably," you answer with a smirk, "they don't make them like they used to. New stuff always breaks so easily."

"Have a history of breaking beds?" Alex asks with an eyebrow raise.

You flush, you don't even have a chance to hide it in your lowcut tank that you had resorted to with it being so muggy. The bright red slides from your sternum and up your neck. But you aren't going to back down, even if he smirks more at your reaction.

"I may have ruined a few," you challenge (a definite lie aside from maybe a few sets of sheets) before sipping on your own drink willing yourself to not choke on it. "Hopefully you assembled this one correctly, the last thing I want is for the bottom to fall out on me in the middle of...the night."

"Careful, trouble," Alex says with a laugh, his voice like silk, before finishing his beer and setting the empty bottle on the table. "I assure you I built your bed just fine. But you test it out for me and let me know," he grins.

"If you get a text in tomorrow morning that I fell on the floor I expect you here to fix it," you tease.

"Tomorrow? Planning on being busy tonight?" He asks letting his eye sweep over you. His confidence and ease at taunting make your feeble attempts to fluster him seem like child's play. When you don't answer he chuckles a little. "Tell your dad I'll see him tomorrow. I have to get going," he glances at his phone that he's dug out of his pocket before back up at you. "I'll talk to you later. Text me if you break something." His words are innocent but based on the conversation you were both just having the implication hangs heavy in the air. Flirt. Dangerous flirt.

You do your best to hide your disappointment he's leaving. You're exhausted after all the work but having him around is fun, a little banter and something to look at was always a welcomed distraction.

"Are you actually going to answer your texts this time?" You ask, jabbing back at him for ignoring you all those weeks ago.

"I answered this one didn't I?" He asks, making a face as if he wants you to challenge him. You don't because he's right.

He gives you a winning nod and heads for the door, patting your dad once on the knee as a goodbye. Your dad stirs a bit but snores on and you blatantly watch Alex get in his truck and leave as you nurse your beer.

---------------------

Alex watches you as he pulls away, his eyes tracking over your body as you lean on the railing. He had been waiting you out, wanting you to reach out to him first because he knew you would. Had seen the way you watched him, and saw how your father reacted to his presence which meant you had talked about him to the man. It was just a waiting game and he was glad it was finally starting to come to a close.

Another plus to you having your own apartment, besides the fact he could get you alone without your father realizing, meant a security system. He had seen the brand new box, probably bought by your father, in the many things he had carted in. He snapped a few pictures of the serial numbers after he cut the boxes open with his pocket knife to keep an eye on for when they came online.

He had the security feeds at your job but that was vastly different from the intimacy of home. And he didn't dare hack your father's house, he was too good at his job to not pick up on an outside IP. You though, you didn't look for those things.

He was a gentleman of course. He'd never intrude on you undressed, that was something he wanted you to give him freely. But he certainly wasn't above listening to you testing out that bed, or watching you sitting on the couch half dressed watching television at the end of the day.

[tailsbeth-writes]

For the writing prompt game, firstprince and the hair clips please!

Henry held his hand over his mouth, attempting rather badly to keep his laugh in. Alex walked into the lounge and slumped onto the sofa next to Henry. His curls were riddled with brightly-coloured hair clips, his hair stuck up in all directions.

‘Well, don't you look adorable?’

Alex scowled at Henry and that's when Henry’s giggles took over.

‘So who was it this time?’

‘Nathalie. Nora bought her new hair clips and had to give them to her just before I arrived.’

Henry gave Alex a fond smile, his face still pink from laughter. He sat with his back to the sofa’s arm, spread his legs and tapped in between them.

‘C’mon, let's fix your precious hair.’

Alex lugged himself over with the energy of a three year old toddler who desperately needed a nap. Henry started to unclip all the different shapes and brushed the hair with his fingers.

‘All done.’

Alex laid back on Henry’s chest, his hands stroked over Henry's thighs. Henry kissed his forehead and put his arms around Alex's waist. Alex slipped his phone out of his hoodie pocket.

‘Can’t wait for it to be our little one, baby.’

Henry hummed in agreement as they gazed at the ultrasound on Alex’s lock screen.