#He's slowly getting there <3 And right now that's all I can ask

[aureatelys]

adore you

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 3k a/n: written for @mggslover's 1k celebration event, congrats baby! i initially wrote 5k, hated it, and basically rewrote all of it but i swear i still had fun writing this. i hope you enjoy <3

summary:

Weird. You're acting like my boyfriend. - God Is a Freak, Peach PRC Your boss has essentially become your best friend. What the hell does Derek mean he looks at you a certain way?

c.w.: fluff! friends to lovers, age gap ofc, feelings realization, reader is oblivious and tipsy but is a consenting party

read below or on ao3 here <3

“So, you and Hotch, huh?”

You had just finished putting your coat up, stepping through the massive entryway of Rossi’s mansion, when Derek approaches you with that familiar shit-eating grin and hands rubbing together like he’s scheming something.

You blink up at him, confused. “Yeah… he gave me a ride.”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head but still wearing that smile that made you want to lovingly punch him. “Yeah, I saw that. I meant, you and Hotch aren’t…?”

You squint at him, because you really aren’t sure what he’s hinting at. Also, a glass of wine has been calling your name since you started getting ready and Derek is very much in the way of that. Hotch was always annoyingly punctual, and today was no different because you were honestly about to open up a bottle when you heard his car pull up in the driveway. “We aren’t what?”

“Sweetness. You’re really trying to tell me you and Hotch aren’t together?”

You choke on your spit, coughing so loud in your fist that it echoes down the entryway and gathers the attention of Rossi and Hotch at the end of it. You wave them off when they both give you equally alarmed and concerned looks while Derek laughs heartily, like the asshole he is.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss at him, slapping him on the shoulder as he nearly makes himself tear up from laughing.

Derek puts a somewhat apologetic hand on your arm as he steers you to the kitchen and pours you a glass of red, finally. “Hey, I see the way he looks at you, I just wanted to make sure I’m up to date on everything.”

And that catches your attention.

Your chest still aching from your coughing fit, you give him another perplexed look. “What? He looks at me the same way as he looks at everyone.”

Derek’s face morphs into a nervous, almost uncomfortable one as he starts slowly backing away into the living room, as if you were an unpredictable dangerous animal. “I think I’m gonna… look for Garcia.”

And then he turns on his heel and is out of the kitchen before you can blink, leaving you with your lone glass of wine and the sounds of laughter emanating from the patio.

You’re still so fucking confused, because you and Hotch were only friends. In fact, you can almost consider him your best friend with the way you two are spending so much time together, even on the weekends.

One late night spent in his office to work on reports that were due the next day that you had procrastinated on and ordering Chinese food eventually turned into a habitual thing, now spending the last hour of the workday every night in his office. Then, he started inviting you to the park to play with Jack who had apparently been asking for you, then staying for dinner because Hotch was not eating the way he should’ve been and him and Jack didn’t deserve to eat pizza rolls with mac and cheese every night.

It's been a couple of months and now, you can honestly say you two are nearly attached at the hip. You’ve tried to tone it down for the office, because you knew you would get teased, and clearly you were right.

But dating Hotch? Honestly, the thought had never occurred to you.

You’ve been single for over a year and you were okay with that, because at least the job kept you busy. And you know for a fact that Hotch hasn’t even thought about dating since Beth moved a couple of years ago.

The sudden thought of Beth, her pretty blue-green eyes and perfect hair, causes a sour taste to form in your mouth. You had never met her, having only technically heard good things about her, but every time you thought of her or someone mentioned her in passing, you felt… upset.

For no reason.

When you glance at Hotch from where he’s talking with the rest of the team on the patio, you catch his gaze for a brief second before he’s turning his head back around to chuckle at something Rossi says.

You feel your heart start to race, your blood rushing through your ears, because what the fuck did Derek mean when he said Hotch looks at you a certain way? You were telling the truth when you said you’ve only noticed him looking at you platonically and nothing more.

Sure, Hotch was conventionally attractive, handsome even. You guess he hit all your boxes in a guy; tall, capable hands, and pretty brown eyes. He was a good boss, a good man, and was always putting other people first before even thinking about himself. He had an intense sense of justice, loves children, and would do absolutely anything for his team and even beyond for Jack.

He has a nice laugh once you break down his walls. For all he’s meticulous at work, his house is absolutely chaotic and it takes you nearly an hour sometimes to get him and Jack ready for a soccer game. He doesn’t prefer to cook but he seems to enjoy it more when you’re in the kitchen with him, laughing at his technique and groaning about the lack of certain utensils.

The sudden realization that you like Hotch, your boss that is older than you by 20 years, hits you like a ton of bricks. You nearly snap the stem of your wine glass, something like panic and mortification climbing up your throat before you could help it.

It’s fine, you’re fine. It’s normal to have a crush on someone you spend time with on a regular basis and is conventionally attractive. You can deal with that.

But the absolute possibility that Hotch doesn’t want you romantically was very real. In fact, it had to be the only possibility. You were younger and less experienced, both romantically and professionally. The only reason that he’s been spending so much time with you was because you needed guidance and reassurance as the newest member of the team.

He doesn’t look at you any differently than the others. That’s it. Derek has no idea what he’s talking about.

You take a shuddering deep breath, quickly composing yourself because, hello, you work with profilers. Which meant you couldn’t avoid or hide from Hotch tonight, no matter how much you wanted to.

When you make your way out to the patio to join the others with a full glass of wine and you spot the only space left in the circle was between Spencer and Penelope, you internally thank whatever God was out there. The sound of them talking over each other about something inane was oddly comforting as your eyes met Aaron’s from the other side of the circle.

His eyes appeared golden from the numerous fairy lights strewn across Rossi’s backyard, making his face appear softer and younger. You’re not sure how it took you this long to realize he was so handsome.

He raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if you were okay because, somehow, he’s grown to learn your facial expressions like the back of his hand, which means he most likely will catch on to you having a silly juvenile crush on him.

You give him a weak smile, raising your glass slightly before taking a large gulp of it. You’re glad that Rossi is Rossi and that he doesn’t spare any expenses when he throws his parties, the strong cherry flavor refreshing compared to your cheap boxed wine you’re used to. You don’t even remember what you were celebrating tonight, or if you were even celebrating anything at all and this was just another much needed get together after case after case.

You catch something soft in Hotch’s eyes that makes your chest pang painfully as he raises his own glass of whiskey before taking a sip. No one else has noticed, too enthralled by their own conversations, so the intimacy of the private moment doesn’t escape you, in fact making you even more anxious.

It was going to be a long night.

-

You are absolutely going to give Derek an earful on Monday morning.

It’s entirely his fault that you’re not enjoying Rossi’s party to the full extent, his words swimming in your mind.

Now, you’re psychoanalyzing and second-guessing everything Hotch does.

You had made sure to walk alongside Penelope on the way to the large round table for dinner, somewhat consciously as you continued to avoid Hotch but also because she was rambling about the show you suggested she watch. Spencer was on the other side of you, interjecting whenever he could, and you made a mental note that Hotch was still on the other side of the circle between Rossi and Tara.

So imagine your surprise when, after you tear your attention away from Spencer’s ramblings and back to Penelope, you’re met with Hotch’s pretty eyes and woodsy cologne instead.

“Oh, hi,” you say, hoping he doesn’t hear the shakiness that’s suddenly overtaken your voice as that familiar panic starts to crawl up your throat. This wasn’t going to be good.

“’Hi.” The corners of Hotch’s lips quirk up, eyes softening, and what the fuck is going on. “Can I sit next to you?”

You swear you’re going to have a heart attack. This man cannot be healthy for you. “Oh, yeah, sure.”

And then he’s pulling out your chair for you.

And it’s not anything new—he pulls your chair out for you all the time, in the conference room, in his dining table when you made not-pizza rolls, and even at restaurants the afternoons after Jack’s soccer games. You’ve never thought anything of it, but tonight, after your impeccably timed realization, your brain feels like it’s going to implode.

He’s just being a gentleman, that’s all.

“Thank you,” you manage out, heat starting to come to your face. Before Hotch, no one’s ever pulled your chair out for you. It’s nice.

Hotch doesn’t say anything, because of course not, just scoots your chair in closer to the table before he takes his seat on your right.

And he’s sitting really fucking close to you.

Have you always sat this close to each other before? You must have at least once during those late nights in his office, poring over case file after case file.

Not only could you feel the heat of his body just from sitting next to him, but his arm kept brushing up against your bare one while he ate, because of course you had to sit on the left side of a left-handed person. Every brush of the sleek fabric of his green button-up against your bare arm sent shivers down your spine despite the summer air, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

His hand kept brushing against yours as you ate and your eyes are drawn to how large his hands are as he handles his fork and the thickness of his forearms, having had rolled up his sleeves earlier. If you searched closely, you could find scars scattered over them through the dusting of hair, undoubtedly from his time on the job.

You don’t realize you’re staring at his Rolex and the way it glints underneath the lights, until Hotch is suddenly leaning into you. “Are you okay?”

Jesus Christ, hearing that smooth voice speaking lowly in your ear, breath warm as it fans over your cheek, causes all of the air in your lungs to escape. Has his voice always been that smooth, attractive?

When you risk a glance at him, conversations around the table slowly fading into the background, his face is merely inches from yours. His brows are pinched in concern and lips are pressed into a flat line. There’s something dancing in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

You clear your throat. “Sorry, I think the wine is just getting to me.”

He chuckles low underneath his breath. “Good thing I’m driving.”

And then he’s knocking the back of his hand against yours, the briefest brush of skin that causes electricity to zing up your spine, and then he’s back to listening intently to Derek and Emily’s bickering over who cheated at the last game of charades.

At this point, you think Hotch is able to read your mind. Why else would he be touching you, be sweet on you, if not to torture you?

You try to wrack your brain through these past couple of months, trying to find whether Hotch touching his hand to yours has happened before or any other sign that he actually is attracted to you. You come up short.

You chalk it up to him loosening up from his whiskey. He’s already moved onto water, because he was your ride, after all, so maybe this was a fluke. A one-off.

But it’s not a one-off. In fact, you think you’ve honestly died and gone to Heaven after suddenly tripping and breaking your head open in the entryway after Derek spoke with you. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were actually on a date with Hotch, sans the rest of the team.

He must have noticed your distracted mood, because he’s making sure you’re included in almost every table conversation by glancing at you and giving you a smile that has started to make something flutter in your stomach. He’s participating minimally like usual, content to listen, but whenever he has a comment or thought he wants to share, he’s leaning in and sharing it with you.

He's leaning in to top of your wine, reaching over the table to get more of those green beans you like, and once even knocking his knee against yours underneath the table when you looked especially lost in thought while staring at your plate.

And then when the team has moved into the living room for charades, Emily wanting payback against Derek, it somehow gets even worse.

You’re quick enough to be the first to volunteer to not play due to there being an odd number of players, thus requiring Hotch to play. Everyone cheers teasingly, because Hotch is always quick to volunteer himself out of games, content to watch.

You blame the copious glasses of wine you’ve consumed and the decadent filling dinner, warmth thrumming through your entire body, when you poke at Hotch’s considerably firm bicep. “Show us what you got, old man.”

There are resounding oohs and aahs from the rest of the team. Something fuzzy settles in your chest when Hotch rolls his eyes good-naturedly at you and stands up from where he had sat next to you on the couch to JJ’s team.

You continue to nurse your wine, pleasantly buzzed, as you are thoroughly entertained by your team’s antics. Emily and Rossi argue at least 3 times, Penelope gets significantly close to having a private meeting with HR, and Hotch continues to stare at you.

Or at least, you think he’s staring at you. The alcohol has started making you second guess things even more than you already were. Because for some reason, despite JJ sitting on the other side of the living room and being on a team with her, he moved to sit in the empty spot next to you after the first round.  

He’s definitely participating in the game, even in second place behind Penelope and Derek, but you swear you feel his eyes on you now more than ever.

It’s distracting as you try to follow the game and guess along with everyone else. This time, the right side of him is nearly molded against your left side, pressing into you so hard that you’re starting to sweat from how much body heat he’s radiating.

When you glance at him to try and catch his eyes, he meets your gaze steadily. His hair is starting to come undone, a few strands falling against his forehead, and his dimple seems to have made a permanent appearance from how much he’s pretending not to laugh at his team’s antics.

It’s nice to see him enjoy himself—a flush rising up his neck and shoulders relaxed. Although you understand he has a certain image he maintains for his team, it’s become familiar to you.

By the time it dwindles close to midnight, there’s a chorus of yawns around the group. Penelope’s the first to call it, stumbling to grab a hold of Derek’s arm and dragging him with her out the door to drive her home, ruining your initial plans to catch a ride home with her instead of Hotch. After that, everyone starts to say their goodnights and exchanging hugs despite the chance you may get called on a case as early as tomorrow morning.

“You ready to go?” Hotch leans to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning over you again and causing heat to rise to your face.

“Absolutely,” you exhale, clutching the water bottle that Hotch retrieved for you in the middle of the game, hoping the breathiness in your voice could be blamed on how late it was.

When you get to Hotch’s car, heart full and warm after spending another wonderful evening with your makeshift family, he opens the passenger side door for you.

You think you’re going to lose your mind if he keeps this up. How are you supposed to stop having a crush on Hotch when he keeps doing things that justify that crush?

“Do you need to stop anywhere for anything? Are you hungry?”

You blame it on the wine despite the fact you’ve been drinking nothing but water for the past hour, thanks to Hotch silently getting you and only you a water. Your body and tongue feels loose, inhibitions naturally decreased, and it’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter if the soft lights of the driveway highlight the sharp angles of his face or the way his woodsy cologne has infiltrated your senses.

“Weird, you’re acting like my boyfriend or something.”

The silence that ensues is deafening. Your brain takes forever to catch up with you, but then you’re suddenly struck with humiliation and dread. You mind starts to race, as best as it could, when you realize that you may have just royally messed up the best job you’ve ever had and the best group of people you’ve ever met.

Before you can backtrack and say that you were just joking, Hotch carefully says “Do you want me to be?”

“What?” Wow, you really can’t hold your alcohol well, why did you drink so much wine?

And then Hotch is stepping closer, into your space, and you’d be worried that the rest of the team was going to see if the car door wasn’t shielding you from view from the front of the house. You get a whiff of whiskey on his breath again, but when you meet his eyes, there’s not a hint of the same full body dizziness you feel.

“Was I not being direct enough?” There’s amusement sparkling in his eyes, eyebrows raised. He looks like he’s politely trying to hide a fond smile. He’s teasing you.

This Hotch is the one you’ve grown to become familiar with over the past several months. Charming and unafraid to tease you when you’re away from prying eyes. Hotch is a private person, always has been, so it’s not a surprise that him essentially torturing you tonight was his version of being direct.

“You’ve been flirting with me?”

Hotch ducks his head bashfully to chuckle. It’s ridiculously endearing and you want to tug him closer and touch him all over. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you all month so I’m guessing I didn’t do a very good job.”

You stare at him as if he grew a second head, suddenly feeling much more sobered up than 5 minutes ago. Clarity sluggishly comes to you. The various invitations to spend the night or go out to dinner without Jack comes to mind. The touching had steadily increased, but you had assumed it was just due to Hotch getting more comfortable around you.

For a profiler, you weren’t very good at noticing what was happening right in front of you.

Hotch may be a ridiculously patient person, clearly since he’s been content to flirt with you for apparently a month while you didn’t notice, but you were not. You knew what you wanted. The wine still thrumming through your veins just gave you that little extra push.

You place your palms on his chest, relishing in the subtle firmness you can detect through his shirt, and you wonder if that’s his heart you feel thumping erratically or your own. “I promise I’m not that drunk and am fully aware of what is going on right now.”

Hotch hums and places his hands on your hips, the heat of him searing through the fabric of your dress. His eyes briefly flit to your mouth before back up at you. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”

Instead of providing a snarky response, and because you know Hotch wouldn’t make the first move since you did have some to drink, you finally lean in to close the distance between you two to kiss him.

It’s soft, chaste in a way that makes you feel pleasantly warm all over, the barest tendrils of electricity tugging at the pit of your stomach. The intensity of how much you like him, how much you adore him, nearly barrels you over, but Hotch’s grip on you tightens, steadying you. His lips only slightly move against yours, as if briefly testing the waters, but it does nothing to quell the sudden desire slowly twisting inside of you.

When he pulls back, chest only marginally heaving, you instinctively chase after him. He chuckles again, low and comforting, as his hands come up to hold you still by the shoulders. It shouldn’t feel as nice and soothing as it does. “I should take you home.”

“Are you coming with me?” You sincerely hope that Hotch doesn’t question you and your boldness tomorrow. Again, not entirely your fault.

“I’ll walk you to your door, how about that?” As if he already wasn’t going to do that.

On the drive back to your apartment, the tight ball of panic and uncertainty in your chest quickly unfurls and is replaced by affection, tenderness, and promises of the future. Hotch’s hand, large and protective, doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way home.

You make a mental note to send Derek a gift card and thank you note on Monday.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝐼𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓊𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒*

Pairing: Vampire!Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Idk what to put it as but changbin breaks in but there’s consent for the deed so. Choking, hand pinning, mentions of blood, unprotected sex, Creampie, oral(f), slight manhandling. This got some plot to it to wow- as always sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings!

This was requested from my second prompt list with the prompt 3: “Look at you”. Side note I wanted to have this out earlier but I ended up getting sick :( so sorry for the late posting it!

-🖤

It was late, you were in your bed fast asleep. The window open to let the nice summer breeze in. You could hear faint sounds of crickets chirping which only put you into a deeper sleep. Your slumber was cut short however, a big hand gripping at your throat as another pushed down your other arm.

Your eyes show open staring up at the silhouette of the man above you. He pushed your head to the side giving clear way to your neck. You tried pushing him off of you his strong legs held you in place as he grabbed your other hand. Holding them both above your head now. “Get the hell off of me!” You yelled still struggling underneath him.

“Struggling so much and for what? We both know you can’t break free.” He said with a chuckle. “Just let me have my taste of you sweetheart” he spoke again his voice coming out like honey. In the midst of everything you took notice of his long fangs he had. You knew vampires were real but you had never encountered one. At least that you knew of. “I saw you at the library, from all my years on this planet I’ve never smelled anyone like you” he said almost groaning.

“You’re- you’re a vampire?” You asked sheepishly.

“That I am sweetheart. Now just relax hm? It’ll only hurt for a second. I promise to be gentle.” He said his head now nuzzling at your neck. He took a long whiff of your skin before sinking his teeth into you. You body arched at the sharp pain only to be met with a warm feeling circulating your body. He was telling the truth, it only hurt for a split second.

He lapped at your neck making you let out an embarrassing loud moan. He chuckled against your skin before his hand ran down your body. “Look at that, no panties? You must have been expecting me hmm” he said with another chuckle. Your eyes fluttered open and close at the feeling of his touch, at his words. His fingers ghostly brushed against your folds making him groan loudly. He pulled away from your neck moving himself quickly down your body. “Fuck- look at you- you’re soaked” he said with a wild smirk.

“Shut up” you said moving yourself upwards to get away from him. He quickly grabbed your legs pulling you right back down to him “uh uh no running sweetheart, let me take care of you hm?” He said diving quickly to your core giving you no time to protest. He lapped at your folds like he did to your neck this time though it was messier. His pretty nose rubbed against your clit as he ate you out tongue darting into you. Your head fell back, fuck you’ve never had anyone eat you out like this. Like it was the only way they could live, like they needed it like they needed air. Or in his case I guess- blood.

He pushed his fingers into you pumping slowly at first finding the right speed to drive you crazy. “How does every part of you just taste so- sweet? It’s addicting.” He mumbled against your skin. Your cunt clenched around his fingers you were so close already. He curled his fingers at just the right spot as he started to suck at your clit. “Let go sweetheart, cum for me” he said eyes keeping contact with yours.

He let a small nibble to your clit making your body arch, shaking as you came hard around his fingers. Just like your neck he cleaner you up making sure to not leave any of your sweet nectar behind. “You think you can give me one more? Cum on my cock like that hm? Can you do that for me sweetheart?” He asked in that same sweet honey voice.

“And- and if I say no” you breathed out.

“Then I’ll leave, but we both know you want this just as much as I do. I’ll be gentle I promise.” He said again. You took a moment to think, were you really gonna let this guy have what he wanted? You could see from the moonlight how handsome he truly was. Soft red eyes, the sharp jaw line and oh god that body. He wasn’t the stereotypical scrawny vampire no he was buff. Those big arms would be perfect little pillows.

“Well sweetheart?” He said snapping you back to reality. “What’s your decision?”

“Fine, only on one condition” you said trying to look sternly at him.

“And what may that be?” He asked scooting closer to you.

“I think I deserve- deserve cuddles after this” you said the request making him smile. Fuck- was his smile so sweet looking.

“Of course, you’ve been so good for me I wouldn’t dream of leaving you just yet” he said moving closer to kiss you but you pulled back.

“One more thing” you said.

“That would be two conditions then” he teased. “But go on”

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Oh, how could I forget my manners I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m changbin. Seo Changbin” he said.

Your eyes went wide, the little you did know about vampires you knew that last name. They were a huge coven with many high class vampires. “Wait- seo?” You asked.

“I’ll take all your questions after sweetheart, but for now I’m going to give this sweet little cunt what she’s craving” he said running his fingers up your folds.

He got his body positioned on top of you leaning down to finally kiss you. You could hear as he did his pants hitting the floor somewhere. He moved his cock up and down your folds collecting the slick enough to glide right in. When he pushed inside of you, you were shocked. His cock was fat, the thickness stretching you out so nicely. If it wasn’t for his work earlier it probably would have hurt. When he was nestled nicely inside you he peered down at you. His eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

“You- you can move” you said softly. And with that he did. He started off slow and deep. His cock taking in your warm walls as it moved.

“Fuck- everything about you is just so perfect” he groaned. His movements picked up but not before he hooked your legs. Pushing them to your chest as he made himself go as deep as possible. You could feel his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he pounded into you.

“Feel- good?” He asked breathily.

“S’good- feels so good” you moaned out. Your hands reached up to him, grabbing his strong muscular arms. His eyes looked so soft like he didn’t wanna hurt you. Like you were this precious little thing to him. He took your hand into his interlocking your fingers as he let your legs fall back to the side. He moved his body down towards you kissing you passionately.

He kissed down your jaw line and almost instinctively you moved your head, revealing your neck to him. This made something in his brain short circuit. His pupils dilated becoming a bit redder a low almost growl escaped his lips. Before you knew it, he was pounding into you faster, harder and somehow deeper. His fangs found your neck once again biting at the sensitive skin.

Everything mixed together had you seeing stars, moans and cries spilled from your lips as you felt you high fast approaching. “Cum. Cum for me sweetheart- fucking cum for me” he said in that same almost growl tone. Your body arched with one final thrust you both were cumming hard. Your body shook almost violently, with such a strong orgasm.

He moved himself back to your face kissing you lovingly before pushing some hair away.

He stared at you with so much love in his eyes it made you blush. “I broke one of my number one rules” he said with a light chuckle.

“Which was?” You asked.

“I never kiss anyone during sex, almost makes it feel to loving. But. I couldn’t help it. For you I’d give all my love” he said that honey voice returning. “I’ve watched you for a while, there was just something about you that I kept getting drawn to.” He added.

He kissed your nose softly before cradling you in his arms as if it was something he’s always done. He ran a warm bath before placing you into it. “I’m sorry for being so rough at the end, it’s just you- you bared your neck to me. That’s something that we vampires see as a sign of love and trust” he admitted.

“You’re from the seo coven right?” You asked, the question that you had wanted to from earlier.

“That I am, I’m actually one of the highest heirs. A vampire born from vampires. A pure blood if you will.” He said.

“So what you’re telling me is, a royal wanted me?” You said with a smile.

“Oh sweetheart, anyone would want you. You’re perfect in so many ways” he said stroking your hair. “Now let’s get you cleaned up shall we? I think one of your conditions was cuddling hmm?” He said kissing your forehead.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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[emchante]

i just saw your thing about filthy divorced danny okay but imagine he still has his ring on for some reason and you can FEEL it if you get what i’m saying and maybe she cums all over his fingers and he sees it down his finger and goes “pity, you ruined my ring” and takes it off and throws it bc hello

one of the og divorced dad! daniel asks and i’m SO sorry this took so long to answer.. like my god i loved this from day 1 😭

18+ content — minors dni.

drabble below the cut<3

you hated it.

daniel still wore the ring from his previous relationship, and you couldn’t stand it. it wasn’t ugly— it was far from it— but you hated that he still wore it. they were officially divorced, and had been for many months. he was in somewhat of a relationship with you, so why did he still wear it?

you always thought it was weird, and that he must’ve worn it for a reason. and you finally found out tonight.

you were below daniel on his king-sized bed, back arched against the sheets while your thighs trembled as daniel’s thick, calloused fingers were driving you over the edge for the umpteenth time that night.

he was, of course, wearing that goddamn ring while his nimble fingers were buried in your cunt. it annoyed you, obviously, but tonight.. it made you feel different.

it still bothered you, but it seemed to add a thrill tonight— knowing it once belonged to a past relationship, when he was with someone else. but here he is, fingers working you to your orgasm while the cool metal of the ring simply adds to the filth of it all.

his fingers curled against you, just right and dragging against the spot that made you clench, whine out a desperate whimper and cum over his fingers.

“there you go, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice gravelly as he watched you with dark, hungry eyes. “knew you could give me one more.”

you did know, you always knew. daniel could draw more orgasms out of you than the past three men combined could. he just had some type of magic that could always tilt you over the edge.

his movements slow, easing you through it as you pant, chest heaving as you try to recover from the brutal forces of his fingers. you slowly blinked up at him, eyes focusing in on his face and that’s when you notice it— notice him staring at his fingers. more specifically, the finger with his old ring on it, coated in your slick.

his lips curled up as he lifted it, allowing it to gleam in the soft, golden light from the bedside lamp. “pity,” he murmured, moving his hand closer to your face to show you the ring, and just how soaked it was from you. “you ruined my ring.”

and then without hesitation, you watch as he slips the ring from his finger, and throws it. you don’t see where it lands, you’re only able to hear the noise it makes from the impact against the hard wooden floor. you don’t really care either, not when his now bare hand comes to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to face him.

“much better,” he murmurs, before kissing you like he’s never belonged to anyone but you.

[thatoneautisticshark]

ONG CAN YOU WRITE MORE ABOUT THE SOAP BEING VOCAL HEADCANNON? PLSSS IM BEGGING

I got an ask? I GOT AN ASK! Let's fricken go. Hell to the yes you can have vocal soap. You didn't specify top or bottom so I went with bottom. :3

Soap groaned and sat up, stretching from where he had been doodling, and flopped against Ghost's shoulder. He nuzzled into that big, thick neck.

Ghost blinked at him, looking up from the book he was reading. “Johnny? Did you need something?” He queried, threading a hand into Soaps mohawk.

The scot shook his head, wrapping his arms fully around Ghost. “Nah… just in a touchy mood an’ wanna hold ye love” He murmered into the crook of his boyfriends neck.

Ghost gave another hum, wrapping an arm right around him, before returning to reading his book, letting soap rest against him.

Soap shifted leaning more heavily against the Brit. Jesus, he could fall asleep here. Granted Ghost's shoulder wasn't actually that comfortable, thick and boney at once. But hell soldiers could sleep anywhere uncomfortable.And he felt safe, that was the big thing.

He knew he was okay with Ghost, he was safe and Ghost was here. Everything was okay.He mentally face palmed. Why was he getting so fucking sappy? That was not the goal here. The goal was to get dicked down. If Ghost was amenable to sex today. Otherwise have a wank in the shower.

He began gently kissing Ghosts neck. Kissing up and down his jaw, slightly tense incase Ghost was not into it at all today and shoved him off.

Ghost just gave a hum and no negative reaction, so Soap took it for the encouragement it was, slowly beginning to also suck and nip. He earned a delightful little shivers for his efforts.

He carefully shifted around to the front of his boyfriend, plonking himself on the tallers lap. He was careful to continue necking the whole way, but now pulled back, ever so slightly.“ ‘M assuming ye okay with sex right now? Ye seeming pretty inta it”

Simon nodded, hands settling naturally on the Scots hips, fingers absently rubbing it. Soap grinned “Thank god, I'm horny as fuck. Ye cool with topping today? Really in tha mood to get fucked, but we can work something else out of you want.”

Simon shook his head. “Uhm.. no.. yeah I'm okay with that” He murmured in his uncharacteristically quiet tone that always happened with discussion of sex.

Soap grinned against the neck he was biting again “How ‘bout the mask? Can it come off…Orrrr”

Simon stilled slightly “Uhm… up to the nose”

Soap jumped on this new development, tugging the mask up to the bridge of Simons nose and kissing him, Letting his hands roam those huge fucking shoulders.

He sat up on Simons lap, scrambling to undo his belt, and leaned back a bit too far tumbling to the floor. There was a pause of about 5 seconds before soap burst into laughter. “Jesus Simon. I don' know if ye can tell, but ay am just a little bit horny ye know?”

Simon huffed a laugh pulling soap back onto the bed, pulling his pants down with his, before pulling his own off, earning a scoff from the scot.

“Fookin' show off” he spat playfully, making quick work of both their shirts. “Jesus, I will never get tired of this. Ye so fucking pretty Bonnie.” He murmured, running his hands along the soft, scarred pale skin. “Canne suck ye off? Please Bonnie? I wasn't ye dick in me mouth so bad”

Now soap was naturally chatty in bed, but to say he didn't play it up, just a little to see the pink flush Simons cheeks, who was usually very quiet and reserved in bed, would be a lie.

Upon receiving a nod of consent he dove down immediately licking and sucking. He spat into his hands, rubbing the up and down the shaft to get it slick. “Fuck ye so fucking big Bonnie. Jesus I can't wait to feel this monster cock inside me” He mindlessly poured out filth pressing a kiss to the flushed tip.

He began licking up and down the shaft watching the man above him through his eye lashes. Watching the uncovered half of his face turn a light pink, and his hands grip the sheets.

Well that just wouldn't do. Soap grabbed on of the hand guiding it to his hair before taking the tip in his mouth, relishing in the soft moan he received. He began swirling his tongue over the tip with slight head bobs, using his hands to cover what he couldn't cover with his mouth just yet.

Some how, even with the monster dick in his mouth, he managed to spew flith, albeit harder to understand through the cock in his mouth. “You taste so fucking good love. Fuck I could never get tired of the taste of you”

Simons hips bucked forward, forcing his cock down Soaps throat making him gag, tears springing up in his eyes, as the cock hit the back of his throat.

Simon gasped pulling back “I-Shit Johnny I didn't mean to are you okay? I-”

Soap shut him up with a kiss. “Shush, I am fine. Remember I like gagging on it. Anyways ye buckin’ ye hips just mean ay was doing good”

He dove back down properly sucking this time, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head. When Simons hips bucked again, he moaned around the length. This was heaven he was sure. Having the heavy weight of Simons cock filling his mouth, and Simon an pretty moaning mess above him.

Looking up at the man through his eyelashes, he felt his own, already hard, cock twitch with interest. Simon was resting his head against the wall, face pretty and flushed, blond eyelashes fluttering.

Soap groaned at the sight. “Fuck ye so pretty Bonnie” It didn't take much more before Simon was pulling him off with shaky hands, wanting to avoid cumming to early.

With his mouth now free, Soap kissed his boyfriend, loving the groans Simon gave at tasting himself on soaps tongue. Soap licked into his mouth groaning, rolling his hips without thinking about it. “Come on love, fuck me already” he whined into Simons mouth, rolling his hip again.

Simon needed several breaths before he could put himself together enough to talk “Hang on Johnny..you.. you need prep.”

Soap just giggled. “Nup. I don'.” At the confused and slightly concerned look he received, he continued “Appreciate the concern Bonnie. But just because we haven't fucked today, doesn't mean I ain't fucked myself thinking of you. So ay am more then stretched, okay?”

And Jesus Christ, soap wanted to grab his phone and take a picture.

Or scratch that, he wanted to burn this image into his retina, wanted to see it all the time, every time he closed his eyes or blinked he wanted to see it.

Simon looked like a fucking painting.His eyes blown wide, face a bright pink, mouth hanging open still a slight string of their mixed saliva dribbling down his chin.

After giving it a whole two minutes, Soap booped his nose “Earth to Simon?”

He blinked a few times before letting out a quiet “Oh”

Soap traced a hand down the muscled chest “Yeah oh. So we good? Because I need you in me like.. yesterday. Come on”

Simon nodded. Finally pushing soap back against the bed and hiking his knees over his shoulders. Soap let his head fall against the cushions. “Fuck yes Simon. Please. God you are gonna feel so fucking good with you huge fucking dick. Come on just fuck me.”

As soon as Simon started pushing in, soap let out the most whorish pornstar moan before whining “Oh fuck oh fuck. Yes yes fuck me. Mm fuck~”

As Simon finally, finally bottomed out, soap groaned. “Oh god.. oh fuckk.. Simon you're you're so big. Fuck I'm so fucking full. So good” he blabbered mindlessly, rocking his hips.

He let out a keening whine. “Come on. Fucking move Bonnie! I need you. Please please please. I'll do anything”

Simon slowly began to fuck into him, moaning quietly as he pulled out and pushed back in. His moans were very covered by Soaps whines and cries.

He cried out as Simon pulled out ramming right into his prostate. “Oh god yes! Simon! Right fucking there! Please please. I'm yours, just please.. keep ah~”

Simon began to pick up pace, ramming right into his sweet spot every time. Gripping Soaps hips with a bruising grip as he slammed into him.

“Simon! Simon! Please I'm so fucking close don't stop! Please please please please” The scot babbled mindlessly, drool dribbling his skin.

It didn't take much more to send him over the edge, thrust in a hard orgasm, clenching around Simon as he fucked him through it.

It only took a few more thrusts before Simon finished inside of soap, before flopping on his chest.

When he tried to pull out, soap hooked his ankles behind his arse pushing him back in. “Not happening Bonnie. I wanna feel you in me”

[wordsofelie]

🔭mars

part of my observatory event, requested by @dearru <3

iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

summary: you have the biggest crush on your neighbour—turns out he goes to the same gym as you.

content warnings: time skip setting, fluff, iwaizumi hajime is too beautiful for this world

words count: 1.3k

“I swear I’ve never seen something so magnificent,” you say in a fierce whisper.

Your best friend groans on the other end of the call. “Are you talking about that guy again?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“What is ridiculous?” she asks, already exasperated, hoping you’ll finally change the subject.

“His awesomeness. This morning, he was on his balcony, hanging out the sheets and still he looked so cool and-”

“Oh god, I’m hanging up now.”

She should be used to it by now. For weeks, your not-so-subtle (and maybe slightly overdramatic) crush on your new neighbour has been the only thing on your mind—and on your lips. But you’re not the one to blame. The man is a pleasure to your eyes—in an unfair kind of way.

You first noticed him when he moved in two months ago.

His arms were stacked with cardboard boxes, his short hair was tousled from the summer heat and a few strands were clinging to his forehead. You were heading to the lift when he walked past, barely glancing up as he unlocked the apartment right next to yours. His brows were knitted in a frown, but the moment he noticed you, a quiet smile tugged at his lips. And you swore you’d never seen such beauty before.

You mumbled something like “good morning”, although you don’t even know if it reached his ears since you hastily turned your gaze away and stepped into the lift.

Then, you started noticing him everywhere.

In the hallway, where he nodded politely but never said much. At the mailboxes, where he always grabbed his letters with an effortless coolness. On his balcony, where he stretched after runs, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts that should probably be illegal.

His balcony isn’t directly aligned with yours—it’s angled just enough that, from your couch, you can see straight into his living room. So really, it’s not your fault if you watch him sometimes. And yes, on the rare nights when you let curiosity get the best of you, you find yourself peeking through your window, catching glimpses of him under the soft glow of his apartment light. Tapping on his laptop. Making coffee. Just being there.

Not that you’re spying. That would be creepy. You’re just—observing.

The gym is the one place where you can let go. Since work has been demanding, you figured exercising might help you find some balance. Physically, maybe—but mentally? Not a chance. Because ever since you laid eyes on him, your mind has been an absolute mess.

Which is how you find yourself, mid-run on the treadmill, calling your best friend for the fourth time this week just to talk about your hot neighbour.

“Wait! Please, don’t leave me alone in this crisis,” you whine into your earphones.

Your best friend sighs. “Crisis? You’re staring at a hot guy and refusing to do anything about it. That’s not a crisis, that’s just cowardness.”

The thought alone makes your heart racing faster in your rib cage. “I am not refusing. I just- I don’t know where to start.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe by asking his name?”

“No, no, no. I could never.”

“Come on, you’ve been eating, sleeping, and breathing this guy for weeks, and you don’t even know his name. I told you—coward.”

You step off the treadmill and catch your breath. Your voice hovers somewhere between a whisper and a complaint as you wipe your forehead with a towel. “Excuse me, but I am not—”

“Hey,” a deep voice interrupts.

Your heart stops.

Your best friend is still talking in your ear, but you don’t hear a word. Slowly, so slowly, you turn your head—

And he’s there.

Right in front of you.

All lean muscle, sun-kissed skin, and olive-green eyes that are even more stunning up close.

Since when does he come to your gym?

“I, uh-hi,” you stammer, yanking out an earbud.

He nods toward the treadmill. “Are you still using this?”

"Yes-I mean no. I-I…"

The corner of his lips turns upwards. “Yes or no?”

Everything in your head seems to come out scrambled, in the wrong order. "No! I mean-I'm done! It’s all yours!"

“Is it your neighbour?” Your best friend, still very much on the call, says. She doesn’t wait for your answer to add, "Ask his name."

"Shut up!" you blurt out and you feel heat scorching your face when you realise what you said out loud. You wave your hands in panic and rush to explain, “Oh my god, not you. Sorry”

Your neighbour looks somewhere between amused and mildly concerned. "Uh… right. Thanks." He still remains polite, almost too kind even though you just made a fool of yourself.

And just like that, he steps onto the treadmill, setting up his workout while you remain frozen in pure, undiluted mortification.

You spin on your heel and flee.

And for the next week, you avoid the gym like the plague and close your curtains.

It’s late Friday evening when the universe decides to ruin you again.

You step into the apartment complex’s lift, pressing the button for your floor. Just as the doors begin to close, a hand shoots out, stopping them.

You don’t even have time to react before he steps in.

The hot neighbour, whose name still remains a mystery.

He barely spares you a glance as he enters—until his eyes flick toward you, lingering just long enough for a smirk to tug at the corner of his mouth.

"You quit the gym?" he asks after a moment of silence.

You nearly choke. "What? No! I’ve just been… busy. With work. I work a lot… these days."

His smirk deepens. "Right. Then that’s even more reason to go back. It's good not only for physical health, but also for mental health.”

You clear your throat, grasping for composure. “You talk like a true professional.”

His eyes widen, you’re not sure why but he suddenly seems uncomfortable. He scratches the back of his neck and his eyes fall to the ground. “Sorry, that sounded like I’m mansplaining or something.”

“Not at all.” You smile a little. “But I guess I don’t have much of a choice now, do I?”

He immediately lifts his eyes and there's relief on his face, the frown that had formed a few seconds earlier, go away. You can see him tilting his head slightly, considering you.

"I’m going tomorrow morning. You coming?"

You swallow. "I-yeah. Sure."

"Cool," he says easily. Then, after a beat, "Wanna grab a coffee after?"

Your heart stumbles.

"Like… together?"

He huffs a quiet laugh. "Yeah. I mean, no pressure, you can totally say no."

You open your mouth, then close it again. A week ago, you were a coward who wished to never bump into him again. And now—now—he’s standing in a lift, casually inviting you for coffee like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"I-yeah. That’d be nice."

The lift dings. He steps aside, letting you go first. It only takes a few steps to reach your door, but somehow, it feels incredibly long. You finally turn to wish him a good night, but his voice cuts through the quiet first.

“Oh, and I’m Iwaizumi, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

You take a second to breathe in his words, his name.

You say yours in return—and you swear you see his cheeks redden just a little.

"Then, see you tomorrow, neighbour." He exclaims, throwing you one last glance over his shoulder.

And just like that, he disappears into his apartment.

While you stand there, staring after him, pulse thudding in your ears.

You finally know the name of your hot neighbour.

And he just asked you on a date.

You call your best friend that night to tell her everything. “What should I wear? More like casual? Or classy?” You ask her at some point.

Though she’s away, you can sense the smile on her face. “Gosh, I really should get paid for this.”

a/n: writing for iwaizumi hajime 27 athletic trainer is the best therapy

special tag for @sahrii im glad i can share my iwa obsession with you <3

[michellejonesgf]

come on, live a little • patrick zweig x reader

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

synopsis: patrick hasn't been kissed in a while. and so he asks for a kiss.

words: 1087

warnings: written in second person, pat zweig being persistent (he wants a kiss so bad) (not in a creepy way, you and him have a good friendship), hinge mention (author does NOT know how dating apps work), friends to lovers!

a/n: wrote this during a quick writing session in between study sessions, hope you like this <3

“hey can i ask you a favour.”

“nope.”

“if you were a really good friend.”

“good thing i’m not that.”

“you would really care about me.”

“pat, i don’t have time for this.”

“can you kiss me?"

and with those eyes so wide, so beautiful, who are you to say no?

“i haven’t been kissed in so long.”

patrick zweig has never been big on emotional vulnerability. he prefers to hide behind a veil of cheeky remarks and flirts with a mission, but laughter is all he expects even when he does happen to make a joke or two with personal anecdotes.

“did art put you up to this? or tashi?”

a part of his heart seizes at this. did you really not believe that someone could ache after you? or did it stem beyond that? did you not want this?

he says your name, “it’s already so embarrassing, you think they have that much of a hold over me?”

you shrug, looking anywhere but his eyes. your heart won’t accept its sincere but if you see even a glimmer of amusement in his eyes you will never be able to speak to him normally again.

“oh, i know they have a different kind of hold on you.”

“i don’t want to talk about them right now.”

“then don’t.”

patrick’s at the end of his rope. and he’s never at the end of rope, at least not in this way.

“the other day you said ‘what’s a little kiss between friends’. you know nothing’s going to change, or whatever.”

“is this how you get everyone to kiss you? no wonder you’ve been, what was it, thirty people in the last–”

“–don’t be mean.”

you feel bad. and you did say that a little kiss between one’s closest friends only makes the friendship stronger. but you also said that to tashi. who you don’t currently have feelings for (although art would say that’s debatable). maybe you should do this, be a good friend. “you really want a kiss, huh?” you squint your eyes at him.

“i don’t want to make you feel weird–”

“what about hinge?”

“what about it?”

the pause tells you all you need to know. "you got banned, didn't you?"

he averts his gaze, voice a bit smaller than before, "no i didn't".

he huffs and turns to you, eyes focused into yours, desperately peering, "do you not want to kiss? i won't bother you if its making you uncomfortable."

you think it's now or never. take a chance, risk it and hope that you can salvage what's left of your friendship over the next six months. art and tashi would understand right, they'd help you through it?

you lean closer to him, and slowly bring your hands to his face, cupping each cheek gently with each hand. you look into his eyes, smiling, "i'm going to need you to put on a shirt first."

he springs up and you hear the shuffle of his feet as he walks towards the bed. you smile at how he's quick to come back.

he sits back on the floor, just the way you both were a minute ago and you resume the position of your hands cradling his face.

“patrick zweig,” you say smiling.

“yes?” his voice is hesitant, he doesn’t know if you’re going to make fun of him or–

“can i kiss you?”

“please.”

you lean in and give his lips a slight feather-like touch with your own. neither party pulls away, both with closed eyes and held breaths. you make a decision. you lean in once more and press a kiss that feels more real this time. he kisses back but its so soft your heart melts at the thought that this could be something.

you try some more pressure and one of your hands goes to the back of his neck to pull him a bit closer. you’ve never felt this tingly while giving someone a kiss, you wonder if a friendship this deep makes it more special. if knowing someones hidden threads and tending to their bruised split knuckles when they try not to cry grants a special warmth to any potential future romantic dalliances with that person that sours any other romantic experience with someone else forever.

the leverage that your hand on his neck gives you feels dizzying because in this moment he is yours to hold and to kiss. you feel his palm in the small of your back, barely there, a bit more than ghosting. a deepened kiss, lips slotting between each other that meet for a moment only to slot a different way and you deign that enough. you both halt with your lips so close yet so apart.

you look into his eyes, from that so-close-so-apart distance and every resolve you had to stay civil dissolves. he looks at you and you feel dishonest and–

“i’ve liked you since that weekend at the basketball court.”

“i deleted hinge three months ago.”

so he was telling the truth.

a patrick zweig in love practices emotional vulnerability and tells the truth. who would’ve thought.

“so this isn’t just a kiss between friends?” as much as you don’t want to a smile creeps and lifts your cheeks so much there’s no way you can do a bit.

“come on, i just told my best friend i like her!”

“you didn’t tell me any of that.”

“well, the way you kiss told me that.”

“well, i also kiss your mother like that, if that helps.”

he holds your face the way that you were holding his just a few minutes ago, “will you stop seeing my mother and let me be your boyfriend, please?”

“come on, live a little, its the 21st century!” but your heart is beating so fast you cannot bring yourself to answer earnestly.

patrick’s smile turns toothy and you wonder what it would be like to taste the inside of his mouth.

“did you really save yourself for months so that you could kiss me?”

“you know how traditional i am.” this is the same patrick who kissed art to get him to stop talking that is now kissing you, and saving himself to do so.

“can we do that again but with tongue?”

“yes, director.”

[nylauninterrupted]

OP81 x Reader [Let's Get Out of Here]

before reading: this is a repost, since I am desperately trying to learn how to manage posts and format them, thanks for your patience! (I am currently open to requests and slowly working through them<3)

summary: You thought Oscar was your enemy, yet things seem to change after a party, when you're not feeling so well.

content warnings: smut, dom!Oscar, kinda rough at times

word count: 2357

You've known Oscar for a couple of months now. You first met the driver at a casual party of a mutual friend. And for some reason, unlike everyone, you seemed unable to hold a civil conversation with him.

Maybe it was the way he looked completely uninterested when you came up to him to ask a simple question. Or how he was always calm, no matter the situation, no matter how you felt. You truly didn't know.

But the fact is, every chat, every even slightly pointed glance, the smallest interaction would ignite flames and fighting. And you didn't understand it. You didn't understand yourself and your feelings.

There you are, sipping a cola on ice, in a slight haze, as your eyes take in the stuffy room of a friend's apartment. The movement of the people dancing around seems slowed and a bit blurry.

You're not drunk at all, but rather detached. You've had a bloody awful day after you had an argument with a family member. You wish to forget, to take your mind off things, to think about only the pleasant things.

It's honestly a perfect situation to get drunk and forget, yet you hold yourself back, knowing that this isn't the thing you should be doing. Moments like that always end up the same, with you barely able to walk, stumbling to your cold, empty apartment, having to clean your own puke the next morning, with a massive hangover.

The world around you seems to swirl, the seconds tangling together into minutes, as you sit alone, swirling the liquid in your glass. You exhale shakily, placing your heavy head on your hand. You close her eyes tiredly before opening them and looking up, just in time to see him walking through the door.

You want to scoff seeing Oscar, his unnerving calm expression present on his face as always. His eyes meet yours, as if feeling your stare... Or were you glaring?

He raises an eyebrow at you, his face nonchalant as if in a challenge. You straighten up, pulling out of your haze, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you vulnerable.

Oscar almost rolls his eyes at your gesture, reading it correctly. His eyes soften slightly as he approaches you slowly. You don't take your eyes off him, having to look up more the closer he gets.

"Piastri," you say coldly, though your voice cracks slightly, indicating your slightly shaken state.

He observes you closely, his eyes narrowing knowingly, figuring out that you are not feeling too good.

"What's with the sour expression? You look unhappy; it's definitely not just because I'm here."

"Maybe it is." you mutter, but your eyes relax a little as you give up on looking tough, knowing that he's got you figured out already. "Why do you suddenly care?"

Oscar pulls out a chair and sits right in front of you without looking away for even a split second. He takes in the way you're dressed, your expression, your hair, and every single inch of you that he can see.

"Dunno. Maybe I just feel curious." He shrugs, with absolutely no shame, studying every single movement of the muscles of your face. "So? What happened?"

You exhale, giving up on trying to chase him away, knowing that while he usually looked like he didn't care about anything, once he settled on something, he stubbornly kept to it.

"It's not a good day for me," you say quietly, finally showing slight sensitivity, meeting his eyes, which soften slightly at your words.

"And so you chose to go to a party instead of taking care of yourself at home?" He asks, and although his tone sounds a bit scolding for some reason, for once it doesn't make you want to punch him in the face. His questions came off more as his way of showing concern.

You would like to keep believing he doesn't care. That he is completely insensitive to everything you feel, maybe even enjoys it when you're miserable. But in this moment, he's anything but that. Even though his words are reserved, the way his honey brown orbs follow yours makes your heart flutter a bit for some reason. His lips suddenly look more full than usual, and oh, did he always have such a nice nose?

You open her mouth a bit, a little overwhelmed by those sudden thoughts. You quickly shake them off, trying to focus on forming a coherent response.

"I really don't want to be alone right now. The loud music and people are still better than sitting in my empty apartment right now. Even if it's not the best setting." you manage to say, taking a deep breath. "I didn't have any better ideas."

Oscar keeps looking at you, actually taking your words seriously. Seeing how you sit here, trying to handle your heavy heart, makes him soften. He gets up and holds his hand out to you.

"Come on. You shouldn't spend an evening like that at a party. You can stay with me tonight."

Your eyes widen at those words. The guy who'd show disinterest in everything you said, who you'd fight with all the time, saying something so sympathetic? It feels unreal.

Your face heats up a bit, soft hints of a blush barely visible on your cheeks. You blink quickly, trying to calm down a bit, not able to look away from the man standing in front of you.

"We won't do anything you don't want to do," he says quickly, noticing your subtle reaction to his words. "I promise."

To hell with it.

You carefully take his warm hand and get up, stumbling a little, even though you are completely sober. Oscar immediately catches you, steadying you and looking down to meet your eyes, which are still wide.

Still in a slight daze, you let him lead you out of the party and walk down the street with you in the chilly evening air. You shiver a little, as you didn't bother to take a jacket with her.

Without hesitation, he takes his large hoodie off and helps you put it on carefully, not saying a word. His scent immediately envelops you, as the fabric warms you up almost instantly.

He takes your arm gently and walks you through the empty streets. You press your lips together, utterly confused by the whole situation. Why did he start taking care of you like that?

"Thank you," you say quietly, not wanting to be ungrateful. A few hours ago you'd probably say that you hate his guts, but now... His actions leave you confused.

You walk in silence for a while before finally stopping in front of his apartment door. For some reason you feel nervous, never having been to his home before. The whole evening made you doubt yourself and every single emotion you ever felt. Even though none of the things Oscar did were that big, they made you feel like a whole different person.

He glances at you and opens the door for you, actually acting like a gentleman for once. Or maybe he's always been one, and you were just too busy focusing on his faults to notice? You really didn't know anymore.

He helps you to a seat, even though you are perfectly capable of walking by yourself, and kneels down, carefully undoing all the little straps of your shoes. You feel her face heat up once more, looking down at the man on his knees before you, helping you with everything, without you even having to ask.

"Why are you doing this?" you whisper softly, looking at Oscar, who just got up and sat down in front of you. Your eyes are shining in the dim light; you are almost fascinated by the man and his doings.

"Because you need to be taken care of." He answers softly, looking back at you, with something resembling determination in his eyes. "And I'll provide anything you need so you can feel better."

Your breathing slows down a little, while your heart speeds up at that.

"Anything?" you whisper softly, your body almost aching to touch him, feel the warmth of his hands on your skin again.

Oscar nods his head, and before he can say anything else, you lean closer, gently supporting his chin, while your lips touch his. Without hesitating, he puts his hands on both sides of your head, tangling your hair in his fingers as he takes the lead of the kiss.

You lean back after a few seconds, your breathing shaky, making eye contact with the Aussie.

"Just tell me what you want me to do," he whispers to you, his eyes full of affection and warmth you didn't think he was capable of showing.

"Just... Make me forget about it. I want to feel you. Just you."

"Do you want me to be gentle?" he asks, assuming that you need only care and affection.

"The opposite," you whisper, making Oscar's breath hitch slightly. He gets up and lifts you up from the couch, twirling you around a bit, before rather quickly making his way to the bedroom with you. He didn't want to have you on the couch for the first time. This had to be more intimate.

He throws you down on the bed a bit roughly, crawling on top of you. You're still wearing his hoodie over your silver party dress, which honestly turns him on quite a bit.

"My beautiful girl," he murmurs, breathing in the sweet scent of your perfume, as he buries his head in your neck. "All for me to have." 

He places soft kisses on your jaw and quickly moves lower, to your collarbone, progressively getting rougher. He nibbles and leaves hickeys all over you, marking all the sweet spots that make you whimper and moan.

"O-Oscar." You stutter, gripping his muscular back a bit, before immediately releasing it as the sensations continue.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He asks quietly, a small smirk on his face, "Tell me how it feels, honey."

You bite your lower lip softly at the nickname, not expecting him to get this intimate so quickly, but definitely liking it.

"Feels... amazing," you whisper, which makes him continue. He takes his hoodie off of you before lifting up your party dress. His lips curl at your underwear. It's a simple lacy set, nothing too fancy. He doesn't need anything fancy, though.

"Light green, interesting choice." He teases slightly, undoing your bra and sliding it off, careful not to scratch you with the clip. He'd rather leave all the marks himself after all.

His hands move to your now-exposed breasts, kneading them in a painfully slow way, before taking one of your nipples in his lips, sucking on it, and teasing it with his tongue.

It makes you moan, which causes him to smirk against your breasts.

"Eager, are we?" He mutters, his head buried in your chest. Without moving his face away, his hand goes lower, sliding under your panties and feeling your already wet core.

His lips curl at the fact that he makes you so wet, but he doesn't comment on it for now, slipping a finger into you, making more beautiful sounds come out of your mouth. He attacks your chest with his tongue and grazes it with his teeth occasionally, all while working on your slit.

It doesn't take long before you are close. Your mouth opens slightly as you let out another whiny whimper.

"Oscar... I'm..." she stutters out, looking down at the man who's busy pleasuring her body.

"I know, pretty girl." He smirks. "But I can't let you yet." He pulls away, leaving your hole empty for a moment.

He takes his shirt off, making your eyes drift to his muscular stomach. He can see you enjoying the view, which makes him smirk again. Soon enough, he is completely naked, just like you. Still on top of you, he positions himself in front of your entrance.

He leans closer, his mouth close to yours. His dick is of regular size, maybe just a bit bigger than most. Still, you observe him a bit carefully, knowing that you asked him to be rough.

"You can take it; I know you can, baby." Oscar whispers and begins pounding into you. His movements are quite quick, cutting your breaths short, as he thrusts away. You both pant and moan, feeling pure bliss. You never would have thought having sex with him could feel so exquisite.

"God, you're taking me so well," he murmurs, going faster, which makes your moans grow louder. "That's right, let me hear your filthy whines."

You both finish at the same time, breathing heavily. He collapses on top of you, making eye contact.

"You did so good for me, pretty girl," he whispers into your ear and rolls to the side, lying next to you, as you catch your breath.

You look at him, your eyes turning watery. You suddenly feel even more vulnerable after sharing this intimate moment with Oscar.

"Why wouldn't you ever look at me? Why were you always so cold?" You whisper, not able to stop yourself from asking the question that keeps disturbing your peace of mind.

He looks back at her, his expression soft but serious; he wraps his strong arms around you, hugging you tightly.

"Because you intimidated me. I don't think I have ever seen a woman more enticing than you. I don't understand it myself, but I cannot keep my thoughts away from you. And it scared me sometimes."

You don't say anything to his words. You didn't need to. You let yourself sink in the warm feeling of being cared for. You look up to meet his gorgeous brown eyes and peck the tip of his nose, making him smile widely. He immediately responds with a soft kiss, only on your lips. You nuzzle up against him, breathing softly.

Neither of you say anything, simply finding comfort in each other's presence. Soon enough, your eyelids start feeling heavy, and you feel yourself dozing off in his arms.

[miniwheat77]

The One. (Creepy!Graves x Virgin!Reader.)

!DARK FIC, nsfw, smut, non con, dub con, proceed with caution. P in v sex, unprotected, virginity loss, scumbag!graves, oral sex m&f!receiving. NO MINORS!

“Yeah yeah, I got it.” You mumble into the phone. “She seriously can’t have any human food Y/N. I mean it.” She sighs. “I got it!” You laugh. “Look, me and Ruby are going to be just fine. I’ll feed her exactly how you wrote on the note, no more no less. She’ll get her meds. We’re gonna be alright.” You laugh. Looking down at the little crusty white dog you’ve agreed to dog sit. “Okay. Alright. I’m trusting you with this Y/N.” She groans into the phone. “When have I ever tested your trust?” You laugh. “You’re right. I know. I’m just stressed with this work trip, that’s all.” She sounds exhausted on the other end of the phone. "And outside of all of this that dog is all I've got. You know this." She huffs.

“Get some sleep alright? I’ll send you updates about Ruby everyday. I’ll see you when you come back.” You smile. “Alright. Thanks again Y/N. See you in a few days.”

You hang the phone up. You sigh, this was going to be a long few days.

Her house is a little eerie and you have a hard time falling asleep, but you do eventually, not having gotten to her house until late the night before.

It’s early in the morning when a knock at the door wakes you, you skeptically make your way down the stairs and hate the fact that she doesn’t have a peep hole. You open the door slowly. “Hey I was just wonder-“ The man looking back at you gathers a look of confusion. “Uhhh… you’re not Jennifer.” He laughs. “Uh.. yeah. She’s um.. on a work trip. So me and my boyfriend are house sitting for her.” You lie. You don’t have a boyfriend but you don’t want to tell a random man that you’re alone. “Oh okay. She borrowed my lawn mower a few days ago and it doesn’t look like she ever got around to her lawn but mine needs done here soon.. so. I was just wondering if I could get it back but it can wait a couple days. Thanks anyways.” He smiles. “I can always call and ask her.” You look up at him, he practically towers over you. “Oh no. I don’t want to bug her if she’s on a work trip, it can wait. Thanks anyways darling.” He smiles. The way he says ‘darling’ has your stomach doing flips. “I’m Phillip by the way.” He reaches out a hand. You take it. “Y/N.” You smile.

As soon as the door is closed you’re on your phone sending her a text.

So we keeping secrets now?

Wym?

I mean your hot neighbor.

Ew.

You don’t think so?

He’s kind of a creep I’ve heard.

Oof. Didn’t give me a bad vibe ;)

Oh dear. Don't go getting yourself into trouble.

You laugh at her text, making your way back up the stairs.

Later the same day, you’d gone to pick up some groceries, not wanting to eat her food. She said you could but you felt that was rude since she was only going to be gone a few days anyways. You also had to pick up the remainder of Ruby’s meds. She’s turned into quite the problem child.

As you’re making your way up the walkway, you see him working on some roses. Trimming them down a little bit. “Hey.” He smiles. “Hi.”

“I actually had a question.” He sets the trimmers down, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. “Yeah?” Under his shirt you can see just how toned he is. You approach the chain length fence that he's just on the other side of.

“You house sit a lot?” He asks. “Not usually, but I’m not against it. Why?”

“Well, my wife is a night shift nurse and I’m in the military so I’m gone quite a bit. We pay a lot for our kids to be in daycare but we don’t always trust them. You good with kids?” He asks. “Oh uh.. well. It depends. How many days a week do you think they’d need to be watched?” You ask. “Probably only 2 or 3 days a week. Few hours at a time. Just until their grandparents or aunt can get them.” You nod your head. “Yeah, I don’t think I’d mind.” You shrug. He nods. “Alright cool. I’m sure my wife would like to meet you first. Although she isn’t off until about midnight tonight though.” He mumbles. “Uhh.. I’m sure I’ll be awake by then, I can just stop by.” You shrug. “That’d be great.” He smiles.

This could turn into a pretty good job, night shift nurse, military? They’d probably be willing to pay a pretty penny for their kids to be watched and you already have some debt racked up. This could turn into something pretty damn nice. You wait around and it seems like midnight may never come. You make sure Ruby is fed and has her meds before you make your way over next door, not sure how long it may take and you don't want to leave the little dog hanging. You make sure to go over a few minutes early to make a good impression.

11:47pm

You knock at the door and he smiles when he greets you. “Hey.” He smiles. “Come on in. My wife should be off work here soon.” He smiles. You step inside. “You can have a seat on the couch, you want anything to drink?” He asks. “Oh. No I’m alright.” You smile. “Thanks though.” You take a seat on his couch. “Alright. I’m just gonna grab a beer real quick.” He smiles, walking out of the room.

How’s Ruby?

She’s good but I’m out for a minute.

What? Why?

Just a second, your neighbor asked if I’d be interested in watching his kids for him. Yknow. Since I’m such a good house sitter ;)

At midnight?

It’s when his wife is off work.

I didn’t know he was married? Or that he had kids?

He said so. He said she’d be home soon.

No, I definitely remember. He doesn’t have kids or a wife. You’re talking about the neighbor on the left side?

You’re starting to get worried. Eyes drawing up from your phone. If something happens you want her to be able to call for help but you also don’t want to be the idiot that walked right into a trap this easily.

Oh no, the one across the street.

Oh okay, jeez. Had me worried there. They nice? I’ve never met em.

Yeah, super nice. His wife just got here actually. Talk to you later. Ruby misses you.

You put your phone down, the hair on your body standing up. Worry fills you. He walks back into the room, turning the cap off of the beer.

11:53pm

“So uh.. you said you’re in the military?” You ask. “Yeah, been in since I was eighteen.” He nods. “And.. your wife’s a nurse, that’s pretty cool.” You smile. “Yeah, she doesn't mind it.” He laughs. “How old are your kids? I forgot to ask.” You glance at his left hand.

Stomach falling when you don’t see a ring. “They’re 9 and 5.” He nods. “Drive me crazy.” You’re glancing around the house. Not a toy or anything related to a woman or kids in sight. “You said your boyfriend is staying with you, how long have you both been together?” He asks. “Oh.. uh.. 3 years.” You smile. “No kids?”

“No. Not yet anyways.” You laugh. “Do you want them?” He asks. “Uhhh.. we haven’t really talked too much about it.” You laugh. You exchange more conversation as the time passes by.

12:05am

“You know.. I hate to cut this short but I’m exhausted…” you mumble. Standing up.

He stands up quickly. “She should be home any minute, really.” He laughs, gliding a hand through his hair. “Yeah I’m really sorry, I’m not usually up this late. Maybe I can come back tomorrow night or a night when she doesn’t work.” You mumble. Rubbing your eyes. Feigning tiredness.

“Alright well. I understand.” He smiles. You walk for the door, surprised when he doesn’t make a move to stop you.

You grasp the door handle, opening up the door.

It slams shut, his hand above you. A gasp leaves your lips. You freeze. You say nothing and hear nothing from him. Just his heavy breathing from behind you. “Please… let me go.”

He raises his hand, grasping your hair and moving it to your other shoulder. “I’m not trying to scare you.. promise.” He breathes. “I’m not too good at this.” He sighs. His lips are right by your ear. You tug at the door handle again but he holds it.

“Look.. just talk to me please? I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.” He breathes. “Look my boyfriend is probably really wondering where I am-“

“Y/N.” He shakes his head. “You and I both know there’s nobody over there. Just you.” His voice is quiet and deep.

“How do you know that?” Your heart thumps in your chest, so loud he can hear it.

“I live right next door sweetheart. I’ve seen you around before.” He laughs. “Just.. sit back down. We can talk this out.”

“No. I want to leave.” You breathe. “Please.. I swear. One conversation and I’ll let you go.”

You hesitate. “Fine.” You breathe. Surprised when he steps back. You turn to look at him but you don’t move away from the door. He takes another couple steps back. “Why did you lie about having a wife and kids?” You ask. “I.. just wanted you over here. I needed some kind of excuse. I think you’re.. gorgeous and I realize now how creepy that probably soun-“ you grasp the door handle and rip it open.

But you’re not fast enough.

He grasps a hold of your arm, ripping you back inside his house and slamming the door, locking it this time. He shoves you up against it. Your cheek pressed against the cool wood. He hisses, pressing his entire body into you. “Fuck- now why’d you have to go and do that hm?” He breathes. You can feel him shaking. He wraps a hand in your hair, pushing your face into the door harder. “You’re so pretty. Fuck- and you smell so good too.” He breathes. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” He shakes. “I know I’m a fucking creep. I’m not good at this.” His voice is shaky and he stutters when he speaks. Like he’s never done this before. Like some Virgin desperate enough to hurt for it.

“I- I just.. haven’t been with a woman in so long. And you.. my god. I knew I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you. Knew you were the one.” He’s nearly panting as he says it. “It’s.. it’s okay Phillip- that’s your name right?” You mumble. He nods. He releases the pressure he has on you, letting you spin around to look at him. “You don’t have to do this okay?” You breathe.

“But.. I do.”

He leans into you. “You can fight me.” He breathes. His lips are nearly brushing yours. “But you don’t have to. I saw the way you were looking at me. I know you want this too.” He breathes. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

You can feel tears gathering in your eyes. This is what you get for being so trusting. “Okay… okay.” You take in a shaky breath. “Don’t cry… please. I promise I’ll be good to you okay?” You nod. Closing your eyes tight. His lips brush yours and you take in a deep breath. He presses his to yours fully, and this is happening one way or another so you ignore what this really is. You don’t kiss him back. He kisses you hard, hands on your hips, pushing them up your shirt. When he finally pulls away your lips are blushing.

“I.. I’m sorry.” He breathes. He wipes his face in frustration. “Can we start over?” He breathes. Your cheeks are still wet with tears. “I.. I’m Phillip. I’m single, no kids. I’m in the military.” He laughs. He inhales through his nose. He sticks his hand out for you to shake.

He sees the slightest tug at the corner of your lips.

“I… I’m Y/N. I’m also single, and I’m dog sitting next door.” You breathe. Taking his hand.

“And.. that’s probably not what you should’ve started with.” You breathe. Eyes flashing to his lips and than back to his eyes. “What?”

“You should’ve said, ‘Hi. I’m Phillip. And I’m so horny that I look like a creep and force myself onto people.’ Maybe.” You laugh, looking down. He smiles. It’s obviously a sad smile. “God.. when you say it like that.” He breathes. “I swear I’m not usually like this.” He shakes his head. “Haven’t been with a woman in years but there’s something about you.” He trails off, shaking his head. “I’ve seen you around but talking to you was an entirely different ballgame. My god…” He breathes. “I am a creep, shit.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You sigh. “I mean it’s not but.. I’ll let it go.” You breathe.

“Okay. I.. you can go alright? I’m sorry.”

You shake your head.

“What?”

“The proper way to get a girl alone, is to invite her over for dinner sometime. Not lie about having a wife and kids. Total turn off.” You laugh. “But lucky for you, I’m nice so I’ll let it slide.” You take a deep breath. “If you do that shit to me again though I might have to fight you. So just.. keep your hands to yourself and we’ll be alright.” You laugh. Your heart is still thumping in your chest. He didn’t seem like a violent man, but he’d just tried to force himself on you so you couldn’t assume too much more. He raises his hands in surrender. “Promise.”

“How long have you been in the military?” You ask. “I didn’t lie about that part. Since I was eighteen.” He nods. He skeptically sits down. You can tell he doesn’t want you to leave. “And how old are you?” You ask. “Thirty-five.” Your eyes widen. “Jesus.” You laugh. “What?”

“Older than I thought.” You mumble. Seeing as you’re still in your mid-twenties. “You.. want to watch a movie or something?” He asks. “Uh. Yeah fine whatever.” You mumble, sitting down.

Your brain is fried, should you take him being so into you that he nearly forces himself on you as a compliment?

You sit down away from him, the both of you agreeing on a movie.

You’re getting tired but you know you can’t fall asleep here, so you finish the movie and go back next door without any more issues.

———

“Hey.” He smiles. “I uh.. brought beer.” You laugh. He’s invited you to his house once again. Properly this time.

You step inside and he closes the door behind you. You’d picked a new movie to watch this time. It’d just come out. You take your places, you’d set Ruby up with some food and water and a couple treats so she was asleep when you left. He starts the movie and opens a beer, sitting where he usually does.

About halfway through the movie is when a sex scene comes on. The first of any of the movies you’d watched. You notice him shift uncomfortably. By the end of the scene, he’s palming himself in the dark. You can barely see it. You chew at your lip nervously. He’s laying back on the smaller love seat to your right, he can’t see you as easily as you see him. He clearly doesn’t know that.

When the movie is over, he’s got one hand behind his head, his eyes are closed. His lips are parted slightly, he’s clearly fallen asleep. You smile. You stand up, walking around. You cross your arms and bite your lip, thinking of what to do.

Should you just leave?

Since his arm is draped behind his head like a pillow, his shirt has raised. Showing off his toned stomach. Your eyes travel further down, seeing that he’s still hard. Must be dreaming.

Fuck it.

You slide one knee over him, straddling his knees. It’s a little uncomfortable because the couch isn’t too big seeing as it’s a love seat. You expect him to wake up or even stir but he doesn’t. Deep sleeper.

You reach for his jeans, unbuttoning them. Unzipping them and tugging them down around his cock. He’s still hard. You’re being rough and he still hasn’t woken up. You lower yourself down, taking him into your mouth. You’re gentle at first. Toying with him to see how he’ll react in his sleep. It takes a while for him to let out a whine and shift slightly. Taking in a breath. You take him further, hollowing your cheeks and sucking. Bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Making sure not to put too much pressure on him. He takes in a jagged breath. He moans out again. “Fuck- Y/N-“ he hisses. You think he’s woken up.

Your eyes snap to his face but his eyes are still shut. It’s you he’s dreaming about. Maybe he really did just like you.

You keep up the pace. His breaths getting heavier and more frequent, until he’s panting. He’s right on the edge. His eyes tighten. He’s really close. He’s never been this close before in a dream. Why is he so-

His eyes snap open, widening when he sees you on him.

“O-oh fuck.” He breathes. “Y/N- what are you-“ his lips open.

“Wait-“ he hisses, you don’t. You don’t relent for even a second.

You can’t deny it, he’s hot and he wants you.

He’s pathetic

“Sh- oh my god…” He breathes. The muscles in his stomach tense up as you start sucking at the tip of his cock. “Fuck baby- fuck..” he breathes. “Look at me.” He hisses, his teeth are gritted. Your eyes snap up to his and he moans out, resting his back on the couch, looking down at you. “Fuck.. I’m gonna-” He groans. His eyes screw shut and he cries out. He rocks his hips forward and you swallow down a gag.

He bucks his hips again, crying out a final time as he finishes down your throat. Panting as you clean him up. “Fuck… you didn’t have to do that.” He breathes. You finally look up at him, moving up further and straddling his still hard cock. He gasps when the seam of your jeans rub against him.

“Phillip?” You say. Your voice is unsteady and rough. “Yeah?”

“You’re pathetic.” He laughs. “And you still sucked my cock.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s because you’re hot, creep.” You go to stand up, but he stops you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You laugh. “Well I was going to go home.”

“You really want to leave after that?”

You shrug. “Why don’t you stay a while.” He chews at his lip, hand gripping his hard cock again. “Or maybe I’ll just give you no choice.” He smirks.

You roll your eyes at him. “What are you going to do?”

“At least.. meet you in the middle.” You look away from him. “Yeah, I’ll be honest. No one’s ever done that before.” You go to stand up but he stops you again. “Done what?” He asks. You roll your eyes, looking away from him.

“No one’s ever gone down on you before?”

You try to hide the smile of embarrassment. “Have you ever.. done any of this before?” He asks.

You swallow hard. Avoiding his gaze. “Shit… are you a Virgin?” He asks. You look down, setting your hands in your lap. The way you fidget with your hands is enough for him to know that you are. “Damn baby. I had no idea. I’m sorry I came on so strong before.”

You can’t help but hide your face, hearing him laugh. He grips your wrists, tugging them down. “Have you ever gone down on anyone else before, like that?” He asks. “No.”

He smiles. “You really had me fooled because.. that’s the hardest I’ve probably ever cum.” He laughs. He’s so straight forward you. You don’t know how to take him. “You’re already a pro and I haven’t shown you anything yet.”

“Yet?” You laugh. “Yeah. Yet.” He rests his hands on your thighs. His cock is still exposed. Still hard and blushing red. “You’re a bad girl, waking me up like that.” He laughs.

“Yeah right, like I couldn’t see you palming yourself through the entire movie.” You roll your eyes.

He sits up, you go to move off of him but he stops you, lifting you up with it. He sits you down on the couch like you would normal. “Slide your hips to the edge.” He nods. “What?”

“M’gonna eat that pretty pussy. Cmon.” He reaches for your waistband. “I- I haven’t shaved and I’m-“

He laughs. “Look at me.” He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up at him

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m a man not a boy. Take your pants off.” He’s stern.

You swallow hard. Nodding your head. “Y-yes sir.” The words leave your lips before you even realize it. “I- I mean!”

“It’s okay. You’re working yourself up for nothing. Relax.” He wants to taunt you but doesn’t want to take this too far.

When your pants are finally off, you have your legs shut tight. It’s amusing, how nervous you are.

“Slide your hips to the edge and spread your legs for me baby. Go on.”

You take in a deep breath. Your heart thumps hard in your chest, he can hear it. He lowers himself to his knees as you do what he says, skeptically opening your legs. You’ve still got panties on. He holds onto your knees, opening your legs even more. “Fuck. You’re so pretty.” He licks his lips. He’s ready to devour you. He’s got it in his eyes.

He runs his thumb over your clothed pussy, rubbing back and forth over your clit through your panties. You take in a deep breath. “No one has ever touched you here before?” He taunts. You shake your head. “No.”

“Shame for them. And you of course. Not for me.” He laughs. “I get you all to myself.”

He lowers his head, gliding his tongue across your panties. You moan out, watching him tease you. He flicks his tongue over your clit through them, he can feel you shiver. Desperate for him to actually touch you. He uses the tips of his fingers to slide your panties to the side. Biting his lip when he finally gets a good look at you. “Fuck…” he draws it out. It’s nearly a moan when it leaves his lips. “You’re so wet..” He breathes. He glides his tongue up your slit, flicking it over your clit just once. You tense up, the sensitivity has you whining. “Phillip please!” You cry.

He holds your hands to your side so that you can’t touch him. He laughs. “Be patient. Don’t you want your first time to be special?” He smirks. Your eyes are glossy and your cheeks are flushed. You’re turned on and he can see it in your eyes. He lets go of your hands and leans in. He’s going to seal the deal. He draws his tongue over your clit again, but this time he doesn’t let up. He keeps the steady pace, flattening his tongue across it and abusing it.

He doesn’t stop or give you a break, keeping the pace and force on your clit. You’re squirming in no time. Whining and crying out for him. You’ve got a hand in his hair, tugging it slightly. He likes the way it feels. He draws away for just a second, gathering his saliva on his fingers and gliding them down. Returning his tongue back to your clit. You don’t realize what he’s going to do until he’s already done it. He slides a soaked finger into your hole, feeling you tense up hard at the intrusion. Your breath gets caught in your throat. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust. He pumps his finger into you at a fast pace.

You’re not going to last.

You’re nearly sobbing when he brings you to the edge. He sucks at your clit, fingering your pussy until you can’t even form a single word or thought.

When you reach your peak, you sob. Crying out louder than you’ve ever been. He keeps the pace until you squirm, stopping him.

When he finally pulls away, his lips and cheeks are flushed. His face glistens in your arousal. He smiles, licking his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “How do you feel baby? I make you feel good?”

You nod your head. He’s put you into a daze.

He laughs at your fucked out state.

“If you thought that was good.. you should see what my cock would do to you.” He glides his middle finger down your wet opening, sliding it back into your blushing hole. You whine out again. It’s too much.

“I’d stretch you so much more.. and reach so much deeper.” He slides his finger in and out of you slow, barely moving it. “You’d feel so full.” He breathes.

“You want to feel me baby? Think you can take it?”

You think for a second. You’re already sprawled out on his couch.

You nod your head.

“Atta girl.”

He exposes himself once more. He glides the tip of his cock over your slit. Gathering the arousal that’s still there from when he’d devoured you. “I’ve opened you up quite a bit already, you’re ready for me now.”

He notches the tip right at the entrance and pushes into you slow. He was right. He’s stretching you a lot.

It’s uncomfortable but he’d made your body ready for him.

He rubs circles over your clit as he pushes deeper and deeper. Keeping you stimulated. Your body takes him right in. When he’s almost there, you start to tense up. He knows he’s hurting you. Going deeper than anything you’ve ever taken, “it’s alright. You’re doing so good baby. Just keep your legs spread for me.”

You wrap your arms under your knees, spreading your legs further. You watch as he slides deeper. His cock disappearing into you.

It’s getting tighter and hurting more. “I-it hurts Phillip.” You whine. “It’s okay. Nearly there doll.” He keeps rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb. He jerks forward, hearing you cry out as he forces himself the rest of the way in. Drawing his hand back from you. “There we go- all done.” He breathes. You have tears in your eyes. “I know it hurts but it’ll never have to hurt again okay. Look at me.” He nods. Your eyes snap to his. “There’s my girl. Doing so good.” He shakes his head. He draws his hips back and slides back into you, slow. He nods his head while looking at you. “You’re taking me so well baby. So good. Just keep relaxed for me.”

The pain starts to ease. He’d hurt you pretty badly right there at the end.

It takes you a few minutes to get fully used to him. Even after that, it’s a foreign feeling. Not quite comfortable but not entirely uncomfortable either. You feel nothing.

He can see it in your face that you’re not enjoying it, but he knows exactly how to change that.

He fills you completely, the backs of your thighs flush with his hips. He’s buried completely inside of you. He nods. “Slide your hips back a little bit.” He moves with you as you do as he says. “Open your legs just a little more- perfect.”

“Now lay back completely and relax. Okay?”

You nod your head. Still feeling uncomfortable. “Perfect, try to relax now. It’s going to be a lot.”

You don’t understand what he means until he draws back and thrusts in again. Right up against that spongy spot inside of you. Your eyes widen and you gasp when he does. Chills rise on your skin. He laughs at your reaction. “Found it.”

He picks up his pace, fucking into you harder, going even deeper. The squelch from your pussy getting wetter around him has you blushing. You’re already overstimulated but he’s got you closing in on another orgasm. Your clit throbs and he doesn’t forget to give it attention too. Rubbing his thumb over it again. It’s nearly too much.

“Look at me.”

You raise your eyes to look at him, swallowing hard.

“You’re doing so good. You feeling good baby?” He asks. You nod your head. He can tell you’re getting close again. “I’m going to cum in you.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. He laughs. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.” He smiles. “Phillip- no-“

“Shhh.. just relax baby. You get the full experience. It doesn’t count, not until I fill your pussy full.”

You start to squirm. You’re not ready for a baby and even if you take something, then what?

He keeps his pace and holds you still, using one hand to force your hands together. You can’t help it. The way he stimulates you. You cry out, soaking his cock in your orgasm. The first time ever cumming around a cock. “Oh god.. I’m gonna cum so deep baby- I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you.” You squirm hard, trying to wiggle away, but he’s got you pinned. He draws his hand back, holding both of your wrists with both of your hands. He thrusts in as deep as he can and pauses, your eyes widen when you feel him. He cums right up against your wall, the force has your eyes widening.

You can’t believe him!

When he’s calmed down, you shove him back.

“Woah- hey. What’s wrong?”

You look pissed off.

“Y-you’re such an asshole!” You hiss. You hurry to tug your clothes back on but he’s trying to stop you the entire time.

“Don’t touch me!” You growl. “And don’t come near me again.” You go for his door and he tries to stop you but you slam the door behind yourself before he gets the chance.

“Shit.” He mumbles.

Just when you start to trust him, he fucks it all up.

[takuma-talkz]

Boyfriend’s Wrath

pairing: Daisuke Juarez x Fem!reader

requested: no

A/N: Inspired by Lockless on ao3 <3

warnings: Jimmy, r@pe

divider creds: @dollywons

Your alarm rang. You groaned as you arose from your bunk. 

It was time to give Curly his pills. 

Your “captain” Jimmy ordered that Curly be given pain medication twice a workday. He decided you would give Curly his medicine at night and Anya would during the day.

You rubbed your eyes as you made your way to the med bay, passing by Daisuke’s room. You stopped and admired the door. Silly little Gen-Z memes written all over the door, that only you and Daisuke would understand. 

“What the hell is Deez Nuts?” You remember Swansea asking one day, you and Daisuke laughed so hard that you spent the rest of the day in the med bay due to the cramping in your bellies.

You and Daisuke were always together. You were both young and boarded the Tulpar at the same time. Except, he was here on an internship and you were hired as a janitor. 

You both clicked instantly, quickly developing a crush on him. Eventually, you told him how you felt and he returned your feelings.

Finally, making it to the med bay and inputting the entry code. 

“Morning, captain.” You call out to Curly. It was routine. You would greet Curly with a good morning and he would respond with a dry groan.

Except this time, a different voice responded.

“Mornin’”

It was Jimmy’s voice.

You pulled down to the floor before you could get the chance to scream, his sweaty, gross hand covered your mouth. 

“Scream and I’ll fucking kill that little boy toy of yours.”

You whimpered and pushed against him when his free hand wandered lower. He removed his hand covering your mouth and slapped your right cheek.

The force of the slap turned your head to face Curly. He had a sad look in his eyes. He was flailing around like he wanted to stand up and free you from Jimmy.

It lasted too long. When he finally pulled away from you, you couldn’t recognize yourself. 

You were so disgusted with yourself. You slowly stood up and looked at Curly.

“Sorry, you had to see that, Captain…” He tries to reach out to you, but it doesn’t work.

You get redressed and give Curly his medicine. Then you slowly walk away from the med bay. You wander until you reach your room.

But you stop.

If you go back to sleep now, that shows Jimmy that there are no consequences for what he has done to you.

You make your way to the utility room, where Swansea and Daisuke should still be up. You eventually reached the room, hands shakily knocking on the utility room.

Daisuke opens the door. “Hey, babe!” You’re quickly pulled in by Daisuke. He smiles at you but pauses.

“Baby? Are you okay?” He puts his hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, kiddo. What’s the matter?” Swansea spoke from the desk.

You broke down so easily. Daisuke cradles you into his chest. His warmth is calming, so when you relax a little, you tell them everything.

“I woke up to give Curly his medicine, but Jimmy cornered me in the med bay…he pushed me down and he” you feel Daisuke’s grip on your shoulders tighten.

“He ra-“ You were cut off.

“No need to say it, kid.” Swansea’s voice sounded calm, but you can hear the broiling rage in his voice. 

“Daisu-“

“Got it.” His touch on your body was firm but gentle. His voice, however, harbored an intense foreign edge in it. He led you to his room.

You lay down and looked into his eyes. “Daisuke, hold me.”

He smiled tightly. He laid down next to you, arm around your waist. 

Daisuke locked his room door. Since he slept in a used storage room, his room had a lock to it. You would be safe in his room. 

He made his way over to Jimmy. No way he would let Jimmy defile you, his amazing, beautiful girlfriend, and let him think he can get away with it.

After note: ew jimmy

[hywonuka]

already pulling me in | jww

every step that i take is another mistake to you, chapter 3

Sypnosis: With the sudden appearance of Chan, Wonwoo has realized something: is time for man up and actually talk to you. And, with a bit of hope, even get to spend some more time with you

Pairing: college!wonwoo x college!fem!reader

Genre: college au, falling for a bet or dare trope, slow burn

Warnings: wonwoo is a pathetic loser AND oblivious, a bit of jealousy

Word count: 2k

chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

“And you still keep your glasses tapped?” Vernon laughed at Wonwoo’s spec, holding for dear life by the tape Y/N placed at them. “Well, I have no time to go get them fixed!”

Seungkwan had dragged Wonwoo from his bed to come eat breakfast with him and Vernon. But literally. He almost broke down his dorm door, slamming it so Wonwoo would get out of bed. Mingyu, Wonwoo’s roommate, was laughing his ass off at the scene, while the one with glasses sent him deathly glances as he didn’t defend him from Seungkwan.

“God, it feels like it has been ages since I last saw you!” Seungkwan said, returning to the table they were sitting with his and Vernon’s breakfast order.

“Cuz it has been. Wonwoo has been locking himself up in his dorm since last Sunday” Vernon chimed in, taking his coffee and doughnuts from Seungkwan.

“It is not that I have been locked up, c’mon!” Deep down, he knew he was. He was avoiding any sort of social interaction since he fell in front of her and Chan. Just remembering that moment made him feel awkward as hell, wanting to run back to his dorm and stay there until his hair turned completely white.

“Liar. You haven’t even gotten your glasses repaired, or a new pair!!!” The tallest one rolled his eyes at his effusive friend, even if he knew Seungkwan was right. He lowkey didn’t want to get them repaired. After all, she repaired them…

They kept chatting, until Seungkwan excused himself to go to the bathroom, leaving his boyfriend with Wonwoo, which didn’t ease the one with glasses at all. He knew his friend was plotting something, and he didn’t like the smirk on his face. At all.

“So… you still keep those Spongebob boxers, right?” Wonwoo's expression was of pure horror. He needed to win this damn bet, otherwise he would be walking around campus only wearing his stupid underwear.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.

[wonwoo]: yo

[wonwoo]: u are in dramatic arts right?

[tiger wannabe]: it was about damn time you learnt my major dude

[tiger wannabe]: but yeah, why?

[wonwoo]: yk chan??

[tiger wannabe]: eeeeh….. that kiddo a year younger than us that has his hair dyed yellow??

[wonwoo]: guess so?? idk his age

[wonwoo]: he is y/n friend

[tiger wannabe]: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH

[tiger wannabe]: yeah is the guy im talking bout

[tiger wannabe]: why u ask?????

[wonwoo]: can i ask u a favour?? plz

[wonwoo]: :(((((((

[tiger wannabe]: sure tell me

[wonwoo]: could u tell him to practice this afternoon or smth??? just to maintain him occupied

[tiger wannabe]: what the hell, sure

[tiger wannabe]: is for the bet i suppose

[wonwoo]: she brought him over last time

[tiger wannabe]: uuuh

[tiger wannabe]: got ur back buddy

[tiger wannabe]: go kiss that girl rawr

Wonwoo chuckled at Hoshi’s text. At least one of his friends wanted to help him. Between Hao’s judgement and Vernon’s teasing, he was slowly losing his mind. He packed his stuff, as he was at the library while he waited for Y/N’s lessons to end and go continue helping her. She texted him this morning, right after he ate breakfast with his friends, and saw this as an opportunity. It was now or never.

As he walked towards her building, he couldn’t help but to think of what he would say to her. He decided to have a whole conversation with her today. Not more small talk, that was it. It was about damn time to man up, has he been telling all the way towards his destination.

When he reached the front door of her building, he quickly stared at himself through the reflection of the glass door of the building. He looked great, except for his broken glasses. He had to go get them fixed or buy a new pair before the weekend. Well, mostly like he needed it. They were starting to feel uncomfortable. He looked away and pushed the door, being welcomed by the colourful lobby, where art students were loudly chatting with each other, discussing over some exhibition they had recently visited. Wonwoo wouldn’t admit it out loud, but since he knew Y/N was an art major, his interest on the subject had peaked, and he found himself paying more attention to it. Damn, he even found himself reading about history of art, or different artists she would mention when their friends hung out. But he would never let her know that, of course. He couldn’t even talk to her properly, without getting utterly nervous, but that would definitely change today.

He finally reached his destination. A small auditorium, in which he has spent a few hours this last week, and she was already there. She was focused on some papers she had on hand. Wonwoo held his breath. How could someone be so effortless pretty? Just the sight of her, standing in the middle of the room, absorbed in whatever she was looking at, made his legs tremble. She has always had that effect on him, but lately it has been getting worse. Maybe because Wonwoo has finally started talking to her, even if it is just a couple phrases. Or maybe it was just the bet, that’s what he told himself. It was just the bet. Nothing else.

“Hey,” he said, startling her. The tall one chuckled at her reaction, finding it… cute? Yeah, definitely cute. “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry… What were you looking at?”

“Oh, just some notes from class…” She seemed confused, which Wonwoo completely understood. He has never seemed that open to talk to her. “Chan won’t be joining us today, he told me he had to rehearse.”

“Was he supposed to join us?”

“Well… he is part of the play so, as I told you, I thought it would be nice if someone who was implied in the play would join us, so we can know how to better arrange everything” she explained, putting her notes on one of the chairs, and walking closer to Wonwoo. He could feel his heart beating faster, and how nervous he was getting.

“Hoshi is also part of the play and you don’t call him to come over” damn, did he sound jealous? He had no reason to be jealous, not at all.

“Well… I’m much closer to Chan than Hoshi, that’s all”

“How close?” He asked, readjusting his glasses, which made the girl focus on them. “I’m either getting them repaired or getting a new pair this weekend, don’t worry about that”

“Oh, great… and, well, about Chan, we know each other since high school actually!! Asher, him and I were in the same class!!”

“And you are still friends with him after all those years?”

“Well, you and Jeonghan have known each other since kindergarten and are still friends, am I right?”

“Good point”. His glasses were about to fall down so he took them off and placed them on a table next to him. Why was he acting like that? Why did he care so much about Chan and Y/N’s relationship? God, he was about to lose his mind.

“Wait, did you just say that Chan and you were in the same class?” Wonwoo asked, leaning his hands on the table where he left his glasses.

“Uhm, yeah, I did…” she said, confused as the topic had resurfaced.

“Wait… are you 21?!” Wonwoo said, clearly surprised, which made the girl in front of him laugh.

“Of course I am!! Not everyone in the friend group has to be a dinosaur, you know?” she said, laughing at him, which only made him blush for some reason. “Oooh, now you are blushing!! Wonu, did you really think everyone was your age?”

Wonwoo nodded, still perplexed. “So… you are the same age as Vernon and Seungkwan too?”

“Yeah, pretty much… by the way, it's the first time I have heard you talk this much!!” she said, smiling widely. God, could she stop? And she was getting closer and closer…

“I’m not really the talkative type, you know…” he said, moving a bit uncomfortable due to the sudden attention.

“Why do you always wear glasses, by the way? Haven’t thought of wearing contacts?”

Wonwoo could feel his cheeks burning at this point. Why was she paying so much attention to him out of nowhere? Is this what he got for trying to actually talk to her? “M-my eyes are way too dry… I prefer wearing glasses because of that…”

A look of understandment crossed through her face, leaving him some space again, and focusing on her notes. Wonwoo took the hint and started working again, connecting his computer. He had a long afternoon ahead.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.

As hours passed by, he found himself picking up his stuff, until he glared at her. It was now or never, he said to himself. “Hey, Y/N, are you free this weekend? I-I was thinking about going t-to the arcade and I was wondering if you’d like to join or something…” He said, trying to look at her, even if he was fighting the urge to look away. He could see her surprised expression, and expected a rejection from her, but nothing could prepare him for her following words. “Yeah, sure! Who is going?”

“I-it would be just us…” Ok, there was the rejection he was waiting for. He could see it coming.

“Oh, sure! When and where are we meeting up?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” The tall one stopped talking, his eyes wide opened in confusion. Did she really say yes that easily? “Wait, did you just say you are up to it?”

Y/N chuckled at Wonwoo’s expression. Was it endearment reflected on her gaze? No, Wonwoo was definitely dreaming now. “Well… Asher is spending the weekend with Minghao and Chan is on a trip with his family so… I don’t really have any other plans this weekend, so it might be funny!!”

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.

“YOU DID WHAT?!” Mingyu screamed as Wonwoo threw himself to his bed. He could feel his face blushing under the intense gaze of his roommate, who was way too close to start jumping of excitement.

“It’s just a friendly outing, Mingyu…”

The tallest one jumped from his seat. “Just a friendly outing MY ASS”. Mingyu started walking around the room, yapping about what Wonwoo should wear, how he should act… Wonwoo decided against listening to him, in order to keep some of the mental health he had left. He lifted his head from his pillow, and took his phone. To his surprise, he had tons of notifications, but none of group chats. What has gotten into his friends’ mind? Disoriented, he unlocked his phone, but he quickly regretted it.

[tiger wannabe]: MAAAN U WASTED NO TIMEEEEE

[vernon 🥸]: YO IS IT TRUE?!?!?!?! SHE SAID YES?!?!??!?!?!

[hannie :)]: JEON WONWOO U GOT A DATE?!!?!?!?

[hannie :)]: god im so proud of u

[hannie :)]: #overcomingfears

[minghao psycho]: no fucking way u got the guts to ask her out

[minghao psycho]: better treat her right during that damn date or ill be ripping ur head apart heard me?

[cheol (??? hannie)]: congrats on the date, BETTER TELL ALL THE DETAILS CUZ WTF

[woozi music]: u dating wasnt on my bingo card

[woozi music]: maybe i should update it?

[happy guy]: IM SO SO SO HAPPY U GOT A DATE

[happy guy]: AND WITH Y/N FINALLY YAAAAY

[he likes tangerines]: hmmmmmm thank u??

[he likes tangerines]: u have been GONE for days, i invite u over for breakfast AND U GET A DATE?!

[he likes tangerines]: better gimme all the details cuz the fuck

There were more messages, but as he was getting more overwhelmed per second, he threw his phone aside, making it fall to the floor, which made Mingyu stop his yapping session. How did all of them know?! It was impossible, after helping her he went straight back to his dorm… He hadn’t talked with anyone… Except for… “Kim Mingyu!!! What have you done?!”

“Me? Just updating all our friends from your love life? It’s something that never happens you know!”

“MINGYU!!”

A/N: omg its been so long since i last updated im so sorry😭😭 i got caught up in a writing block + depressive episode and got no strength to write a word… i had this chapter planned since i posted the last one (and next chapter too hehe) i hope yall enjoyed it!! dont hesitate to let me know your thoughts hehe

Taglist: @adonisbtch @mydearhangel @wonvsmile @wonuilu @peachyaeger @minwonwoozi @syluslittlecrows @divigo @coupsgfsstuff @jennwonwoo

[highpope]

Biker!JJ x Reader

based on this ask, thanks anon!

warnings: swearing, motorbike racing/stunts, scared reader notes: i don't even know what this is, i got carried away. enjoy

“Okay, odds,” your friend Sarah had said when the two of you sat down on the risers. You had both decided to get last minute tickets to the bike show that was touring through town. Neither of you were that interested, but thought it’d be fun to see the race and some stunts. 

“Odds what?”

"What are the odds you go into that?” She asked, pointing to an area outside of the track. There was a giant metal sphere that had two bikers riding inside. They moved, calculated and confident in circles, going upside down and crisscrossing. 

Your mouth basically fell open, “None. Absolutely not.” 

Sarah laughed, “C’mon, humor me. Pick a range.”

You sigh, “one to one-hundred.”

“Really?” She looked at me like I was the one being unreasonable. 

I nodded and started counting down from three. 1…2…3… “Sixty-seven.”

“Sixty-seven.” 

“Fuck,” you mumbled. 

----------

And that’s how you found yourself standing off to the side of “The Globe of Death,” waiting for the attendant to let you in.

You sighed as you wiped the sweat off your palms on your jeans. The sun had gone down the whole way now, leaving the beach illuminated only by the spotlights set up by the tour around the racing track and the neon lights on the bikes. At least that meant no one could see how scared you looked. You can’t believe this was happening to you. “Alright, sweetheart” the man called out to me, “you done this before?” You shook your head, breathless.

“Just stand right on the X and don’t put your arms out.”

Okay, duh. You just nod, unable to speak without fear you would call the whole thing off. “Alright, Maybank! She’s all yours!” The man yells as the hinge to the dome starts to lift. 

You carefully step inside, taking the hand of the rider to help pull yourself up. You mumble a “thanks” that you’re sure no one heard and stand on the green tape in the middle of the dome. It was even bigger on the inside. Incredibly intimidating.

You couldn’t see any of his other features, but his deep blue eyes met yours instantly. He winks and you're not sure how you know, but you can tell he’s smiling under his helmet. Your cheeks blaze red as you divert your eyes.

Maybank revs the engine on his bike and the crowd outside goes crazy. He accelerates, building momentum as he drives around the walls. You jump, caught off guard, the countdown drowned out by the noise. The whirlwind of neon blue lights that outline the bike fly around you in circles. At first the stunts are more careful, staying quite a large distance away from you as he rides up and down the walls of the dome. In an instant he’s closer, almost parallel with you. If he reached out he could grab your arm. The thought alone makes you feel nauseous. Everything starts to blur as you feel yourself panic more and more. You needed to get out of here. The biker gets closer, making the crowd gasp and your hands shoot up to cover your face. No, no, no, no, no. “Hey, hey!” Someone yells. You slowly drop your hands from your face to see that everything has stopped. The music is still playing over the speakers, but the crowd is no longer yelling and the engine of the bike has been turned off. You lift your head to see the rider has removed his helmet and is looking right at you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You shake your head, “No.”

“We can be done.” He answers flatly and you feel yourself getting a little disappointed. Maybe at yourself for giving up so quickly or maybe something else.

“Uhm. We don’t have to be.”

The blond turns back to look at you, “yeah?”

“Yeah. I just… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He laughs, “I can tell.” His eyes trail down your body before coming back up to your eyes. He doesn’t seem to care that you’ve noticed. “I’m not going to hurt you, ya know?”

“Promise?” you whisper. It felt like a prayer.

He laughs again, his dimples in his cheeks poking through. “Yeah. Promise, pretty girl.”

You nod, suddenly calm, despite the heart attack you’re feeling at the sudden attention.

He runs a hand through his hair as he moves to stand closer to you, making it stick up in all different directions. 

“You can lift your arms,” he says, his hand brushing against my forearm and guiding my arms to extend above my head, “If you want. Or you can keep them straight against your side. I’m just gonna go for a few more minutes.”

“Mhmm” you hum, nodding.

“Yeah? You’re good?” 

“I’m good.” you confirm and watch as he smiles back at you. He gently brushes a strand of hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear before speaking gently, “Okay, princess. Keep your arms up nice and pretty for me, yeah?”

He pulls on his helmet again and climbs back onto his bike. You straighten up, a sudden rush of determination to get through this. Or to at least keep his attention on you.  There is a clear countdown this time before he starts off, going in circles around you. He starts to pick up speed, flying around, but his eyes lock on you in the middle. One of his arms stretches out to your waist, his palm gently brushing against you as he drives. You can’t help but smile now, heart all but lurching out of your chest. When he pulls back, you quickly lock your arms back at your side. Just like he promised, you’re only in there for a little bit more as he does his last trick. He moves from being parallel to you, to riding up and around the globe, flipping upside down for a second before repeating it on the other side of you. He does this a few more times as the crowd cheers him on. 

When he finishes, he slows to a stop and gestures to you. You awkwardly wave back to the crowd as they cheer even louder. 

You can see Sarah waiting at the entrance to the dome, practically jumping up and down as she screams. You laugh fondly and move to exit. A hand hovers on your back as you step out, landing on the mat with a thud. “That was awesome! You’re insane!” Sarah yells. The biker climbs out behind you, pulling his helmet off and handing it to his team.  “See, told ‘ya I wouldn’t hurt you.” He winks and you practically melt. He extends his hand for you to shake, “JJ,” he says softly. You smile back and take his hand.

[madangel19]

Golden Eyes: Part 3

Finally got around and wrote a third part to Golden Eyes which is based on @pomidaea's awesome Swiss art! I could have left it after part 2 but some of ya'll wanted more and I shall deliver!

Part 1

Part 2

Content: Oral sex, high sex, cum swallowing, quintessence use, fingering, hypnosis kink, spit as lube, spooning, degradation, Phantom being a very good boy for Swiss

Word Count: 1471

There wasn’t a thought in Phantom’s head as he slowly dragged his long tongue along Swiss’s thick cock, his hands digging into his thighs. He watched Swiss’s face, taking in every twitch he made when he put his mouth on certain spots. There were several moments where his locs hid his hypnotizing eyes as his head hung low, but after a few moments, he regained his composure and went back to watching Phantom, his gaze keeping the young ghoul in place. 

“So good,” Swiss moaned, lavender smoke curling from his lips which he lazily blew away.

Phantom smiled around his cock, making sure to lick around his dick piercing. Swiss’s cock twitched in response as he let out another wonderful moan. It was music to his ears.

The brownie that Phantom had eaten was slowly taking a hold of him, making his head fuzzy and light. This was a very different high and he fucking loved it. 

Phantom felt a growing tightness in his pants and he palmed at his front, still keeping his eyes on Swiss as he let out a soft whine. If he did a good job, Swiss would definitely help him out.

Swiss seemed to notice his arousal and he chuckled while running a hand through his messy hair, pushing him down on his cock. Phantom gagged once but he managed to take all of Swiss in his mouth and throat. 

“Yer doing so good, Buggy. I…I see you’re excited. Get me off real good and…and I’ll help ya out,” Swiss cooed.

Phantom could only look up at him with tears of pleasure welling up in his eyes. Just hearing that he was doing so good for Swiss made him all the more needy and determined to make him feel amazing. He rutted against the floor, moaning around Swiss’s cock and still never taking his eyes off of the older ghoul. He could see lust and adoration in Swiss’s eyes, urging him to keep going.

Be a good boy for me.

He wasn’t sure where that voice was coming from, but it had to be Swiss whose mouth was contorted, his long forked tongue hanging out and dripping with drool. Phantom could only imagine what it would be like if it was Swiss who was sucking his cock, but that was for another time. 

Swiss slowly thrusted into Phantom’s mouth, his tail thumping hard against the bed and making the bells adorning it jingle nonstop. Phantom could already taste precum in the back of his throat and he eagerly swallowed it all before focusing on pleasuring Swiss. 

“Such a good little slutty Bug. I…I bet you’ve…you’ve been wanting this as soon as you saw me, yeah?” Swiss moaned, his breath shaky.

Phantom’s face heated up in response. It was true and he wasn’t going to deny it. He always wanted to be like this with Swiss. He wasn’t sure if it was the brownie or the quintessence flooding his brain, but he wanted nothing more than to be used up by Swiss and maybe even the rest of the pack if he wished to share him. 

“Aw, look…look at that cute blush. Am I right? Are you my little slutty Buggy?” Swiss asked, digging his claws into his hair and pushing him down harder on his cock. Phantom felt like the older ghoul’s cock was in his chest by now and he loved it. His tail thumped behind him excitedly and he kept rutting against the floor, moaning harder as he felt that familiar rising sensation in his cock. Fuck, he needed some sweet release now. 

Phantom kept rubbing at the front of his pants, needing as much pleasure as he possibly can. He felt so good. So good. So good! 

Swiss threw his head back with a cry, pushing his full length down Phantom’s throat and spilling his hot load into him. Phantom grunted around Swiss’s twitching cock, trying his best to breathe through his nose as he swallowed every last bit of Swiss’s cum. The older ghoul then let out a low groan, covering his face with his hands. The golden alchemy tattoos on his hands stared down at him and Phantom swore he saw that same glow that came from his eyes. He felt a surge of quintessence and pleasure rush through his body and he moaned softly when he felt a familiar wetness in his pants.

“Fuck, Bug. Did you really swallow all of it?” Swiss murmured, reaching down to cup Phantom’s cheek. Phantom smiled around his cock in response, nuzzling into his palm with a purr. 

“Such a good little Bug,” the older ghoul said, rubbing his thumb around the corner of his mouth. Phantom let go of Swiss’s cock with a wet pop, licking his lips and breathing in the sweet air around him. 

“I’m your good bug,” he chimed, letting out a drunken giggle before crawling onto the bed and laying amongst the blankets and pillows. 

A rumbling purr came from Swiss as he moved to pin Phantom beneath him. All Phantom could see were those hypnotic golden eyes as darkness seemed to snuff everything out. Everything felt cold, but Swiss’s body pressed against his kept Phantom warm. 

“You deserve a reward for being my good boy, Bug,” Swiss crowed, leaning in until his lips were just inches from Phantom’s. The younger ghoul felt like he was going to melt into the bed and the darkness. He was in total bliss and if Swiss wanted to keep him like this for however long he wanted, then he would obey and be his good boy. 

“I...I do,” Phantom said, wrapping his tail around Swiss’s middle and pulling him closer into a hungry kiss. He didn’t mean to take control, but he needed Swiss to kiss him. The older ghoul didn’t seem surprised and he smiled as he deepened the kiss, rutting lazily against Phantom’s pants. 

Another wave of Swiss’s quintessence rolled through Phantom like a gentle wave, clouding his mind with pleasure. He could taste sweetened salt and cum as Swiss slowly explored his mouth with his long tongue. Swiss’s tail gently tugged at the edge of his pants, slowly pulling them down and freeing Phantom’s wet cock. 

“Already came from just sucking me off? You really are a little slutty Buggy,” Swiss moaned into the kiss. Phantom didn’t have to say anything, moaning softly into Swiss’s mouth. He could feel Swiss’s right hand roaming down his side before caressing his cock, making it hard again after giving it several slow strokes.

“Fuck me,” Phantom whined softly.

Swiss pulled away from the kiss and from Phantom, licking a droplet of cum from his lips with a soft sigh as that mysterious darkness melted away and they were back in his room. Phantom would have questioned the darkness, but he didn’t care. He just needed to be fucked.

“Please?” Phantom asked, giving Swiss his best puppy dog eyes. 

“Be patient, Buggy. Let me find some lube,” Swiss said, sitting up on the bed. 

Phantom stopped him, his tail wrapped around Swiss’s arm. The older ghoul looked over at him, an eyebrow raised at him questioningly. Even though Phantom was under his control and he could let him do anything, there was no way he was going to let Swiss be away from him even if it was just for a few seconds. 

“Use your spit,” Phantom said.

Swiss cocked his head, appearing deep in thought before that wonderful smile returned as he laid back on the bed next to Phantom. The younger ghoul cuddled close to him, glad he didn’t leave him. 

“That’s a perfect idea, Buggy,” Swiss cooed, pulling him closer to his chest, spooning him and kissing the back of his neck. Phantom purred happily, absolutely safe in his strong arms. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Phantom noticed a mirror that faced the bed. Swiss noticed where he was looking and he smirked, his locs moving and revealing his eyes again. 

“Don’t look away, Buggy,” he said, caressing his tight hole with his finger, slowly spreading Phantom out. 

The younger ghoul whimpered softly, clutching Swiss’s free arm that was wrapped around his chest while still watching them in the mirror. Swiss nuzzled his neck, purring loudly while pumping more of his quintessence into him and putting him at ease.

“You’re okay, Bug. You can take it. Lift your leg a bit,” he murmured.

Phantom did as he was told and Swiss was quick to spit into his hand before massaging it into his hole. There was some discomfort, but it quickly melted away once Swiss slowly pushed his warm cock into him. 

“Keep watching us, Bug,” Swiss moaned in his ear, his grip on him tight. 

Phantom obeyed, slipping into bliss as darkness took over once again.

[ilysungho]

taking a lil break from sub bnd.. how abt reader’s first time with soft dom sungho except hes super shy and nervous but tries his best to make you feel safe and comfortable

and maybe hes a lil perverted but thats for another time …

-🌷

I LOVE SUNGHO ASKS AHHHHH and omg that’s totally ok, i enjoy writing everything!! also, please send me more perv bnd thoughts i especially love writing about them i mean what!

soft dom sungho is such a treat to you!! i think that he’d be the type to either also be a virgin or only have done it a couple times before because he thinks sex is an intimate act to do with the love of your life </3 he’d be so gentle and caring, asking you whether he can move on before he does anything more and making sure you’re feeling good throughout :( his hands would caress your body with so much love as he tells you how beautiful you are and that you’re his everything. yet, there’s a hunger behind it all. he desires you. he may fumble his words because holy hell you’re his, and as it progresses past more than a makeout, he’d also start to get just as nervous because he doesn’t want to mess it up and make you feel any pain (though he knows it will hurt at first but to help with that, he would try to make you as wet as possible before he penetrated you).

now if we’re talking perv sungho, i imagine he wouldn’t be up front about it to you, yet he’d still ask for some stuff under the guise of helping you. he would be so shy to ask you to show him where it feels good for you once you’re naked for him, practically feeling like a whore already for asking that. his face would be situated in between your legs as you slowly reach down to rub your clit. his dick would twitch in his pants as he gulps at the sight, so turned on by you simply touching yourself. he tells you to keep going, even to make yourself cum, after which he laps his tongue all over to clean your mess and make you cum once again. he’d be so gentle and loving that you wouldn’t even think about how all he has going on in his brain right now is to make you his own cocksleeve eventually :( he can’t wait to make you so drunk ok his dick that he can ask for your pussy any time he wants! oh he’d be such a pretty perv ahhhh

[sakurarisen]

One last update on the pup situation - He IS home! <3 We were able to bring him home yesterday and he's doing all right, though he's still pretty groggy and slowly regaining his appetite. Got him on some special food to help him out and things are headed back to reasonably normal, finally TWT <3 They called before we picked him up and said he was doing even BETTER, which is the miracle we were hoping for. <3

So while he's getting some rest, I've got Rebirth's data disk doing its thing and hopefully, my crappy net and all cutting me some slack, I'll be playing that later today too! <3 Until then, swandiving back into blogwork and hoping I don't absolutely crash like I've been needing to for the last like, 4 days-

~Pom

Bonus Doggo pic under cut from getting him home and resting last night <3

[bi-writes]

anatomy of us (3) | alpha!ghost x f!omega!reader

type: limited series, part 3 (9.8k), AO3 in an attempt to tame an unruly alpha, you are given. he did not come with warning labels. but neither did you.

series cw: reader described as plus-sized/curvier, alpha/beta/omega dynamics + universe, dark!simon, mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence (this part contains graphic depictions of gore + murder + minor character death), military criticism, protective!simon, dubcon (but reader does consent), possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, size kink, praise kink, unprotected piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving) 18+

PART 1 ⏤ PART 2

The mirror betrays you. There’s someone staring back, but it isn’t you. You don’t recognize her. Whoever is there, she’s a traitor. A liar. She stole what used to be your body, and now you can only stare back as she lifts her hands to your face and touches your skin.

It’s warm. Your cheeks are warm to the touch, skin bouncy and firm. When you pull on the apples of your cheeks, they bounce right back, elastic almost. You’re glowing, too. Your skin has never looked so soft, so smooth.

Something’s different.

You bring your hands up and cup your own breasts. When you squeeze, you shudder, realizing how sensitive you are. They ache a little, feel heavier than normal. Your bra feels a little tight, too. Your hands drop and grip the sink firm, and you swallow hard before turning to face the door.

Your body is telling you something. It’s trying to talk to you. It’s natural, you know it is, and it is inevitable, and you shouldn’t hate your omega for it because she can’t help it, but you do. It’s what’s happening to you because you’re off your meds. Your hormones are firing like they never have before, and the voice in your head is starting to talk to you in a way that sounds way too appealing. She’s starting to sound right. You like the way she’s talking to you, especially after…

You haven’t spoken to him yet. You haven’t talked about it. It’s only been a few days, but you don’t think you can sleep next to him for one more night and pretend like you don’t know what it’s like for him to be dick-deep inside of you and satiating the shrill insanity that lives under your skin.

So big. So capable. Isn’t he so strong? I bet he tastes good. Let’s find out.

You open the bathroom door slowly. Simon is sitting there on the bed, phone in his hand. He’s typing, eyes narrowed in thought, and you make the door creak so he knows you’ve come out.

“Everythin’ olright in there?” Simon asks. He doesn’t look up from his phone. You decide to be mean, because you can be. You want to be.

Fuck off, you tell her, try to. All she wants to do is get Simon on his back on that bed.

Can we just suck his dick already? It’s right there.

“What do you care?” You mumble. You go to the closet to pick out something to wear. It’s a Sunday, which means there won’t be much to do today besides relax and eat. Johnny invited you to Mass, which you promptly declined, and you didn’t much feel like spending time with Captain Price or finding out which beta would be underneath Gaz tonight (more than one, would be your guess, but it could’ve been another alpha, too, he doesn’t seem to care as long as he can devour something whole).

You don’t turn around to see Simon’s reaction. Maybe he doesn’t react at all. You grab a pair of jeans and drop your sleep shorts. Ever since Simon had taken you on a roof, you decided it was no use trying to change in the bathroom anymore–he’d seen everything, anyways. You step into the jeans and pull them up, jumping a little to get them over your hips, and just as you’re about to adjust the waist, you feel him come up behind you.

Simon grips both sides of your jeans and hikes them up around your middle. You suck in a breath as he slides his hands around, zipping them up, deft fingers finding the button and fastening them. You huff as he keeps walking, forcing your front flat against the closet doors until he can press his chest up against you from behind.

Remember how good he felt? Let’s do it again. Take them off.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss. Your omega purrs. She softens your insides. You grip the closet, irritated, but you can’t help the way you bend at the hip and push back into him. He snarls as he puts his hands on your hips, holding you there. You can feel her, pushing against you. It’s getting harder every day to shove her backwards–there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to.

Is that part me? Or are we drifting together?

“Wot does it look like?” Simon murmurs. “I smell you.”

Yes, yes, yes, let him. Take it off. Take them off. Let him have it.

“What did I say before?” You let your arms fall, and you smack his hands off of you. You turn around to glare up at him, grinding your teeth. “Boundaries, Simon. You need to ask for permission.”

“I don’t have to do anythin’,” Simon bites back. “I said some things before, too, didn’t I? Y’r mine.”

Oh, that’s how he wants it to be. You can see it in his eyes, the way his alpha is feeding him lies. Feeding into his ego. He’s got tendrils that are choking him from the inside-out, trying to tell him to be the bigger species, the more dominant figure. Your omega wants to let him, but that isn’t you. Fuck submission–it’s just not your style. You’re a taker, not a giver, and your omega will need to learn that the hard way.

You lean up on your toes, pressing your forehead to his. You meet his alpha in the middle, not backing down. You can be nasty, too. You can be dangerous. You might not have his build nor his strength, but omegas have teeth, and they are sharp.

“Then you better sleep with one fucking eye open, Simon. Cause I’ll kill you if you put your hands on me without asking.”

You make sure you hit him on your way around him. You open the drawers of the dresser angrily, ripping a shirt out. You slip your pajama shirt off, tossing it onto the floor, and you fit your bra straps over your shoulder before turning around. Simon is still staring like a dog–eyes watery and intense, staring right at your tits, and you grab a pillow off the bed and throw it at him.

“Oh my god!” You cry, and he sucks on his teeth under the mask.

“Mmm…” He puts a hand over his chest, rubbing there. If he didn’t have it on, you have a feeling he’d a smug grin on his stupid face. “My mate is fuckin’ naked, wot you want me to do, look away?”

“Yes, exactly, you pig,” you mumble, clasping your bra and fixing it to cover yourself before slipping your t-shirt on. You frown as you pick up a clip to tie up your hair. “And we’re not mates.”

“Tha’ right?”

“That’s right,” you say curtly. You turn to give him a hard stare as you slip your boots on. “As far as anyone else can tell, I’m not claimed.” You run a few fingers over your scent gland. Soft. Unmarked. Pulsing.

It’s like you’re taunting him. He snarls a little at that, something low and territorial under the mask.

“Tha’ wot you want? Me to claim you?”

“No,” you stand on your toes, faces barely touching. The air in the room is humid and thick, curling, competing scents making you a little dizzy. “I want you to drop dead.”

It’s half of a lie. It would be funny, you think, to see Simon eat a bullet or catch on fire and perish in a frenzy of equal pain and misery, but you know Kate would just do it all over again to you. There are no shortage of alphas at her disposal. With a swipe of her signature, she can have you moved halfway across the world again, and you’d like to not end up on the CIA’s bad side because you keep spending all their money on flights and bribes to get you some kind of mate that will tolerate an indifferent omega such as yourself.

An unruly one. A terrible one. A decisive one.

You don’t really want Simon dead. Better the beast you know than the one you don’t, and from the time you’ve spent with Simon, he is all bark, no bite.

For now.

Meals are always awkward. You feel like all you and Simon do is snap at each other lately. Call each other names. Spit nasty insults. Maybe it isn’t fair to be angry with Simon; you have a feeling he didn’t have much of a choice, same as you, but it doesn’t matter, because nothing really changes in his life the way it changes in yours.

Simon isn’t the one that loses himself. Simon isn’t the one that has to wear a brand on himself, a permanent reminder of his submission. Simon isn’t the one that has to succumb to things he can’t control about himself–the heats that last for days, the ones that will burn you from the inside out until it gets that nasty fill that your omega was born for.

Ruts just aren’t the same, you don’t believe it. They can swallow them down. Save them for later. It isn’t a comfortable thing to do, but if an alpha is missing their omega, they can satiate themselves with a lazy hand or a soft mouth until they get what they’re searching for.

Omegas aren’t offered the same luxury. If you don’t get what your omega feeds off of, she might kill you–and you don’t need to be reminded that you and your omega aren’t exactly on great terms.

The boys are quiet at breakfast. John has secluded himself in his office for the day, but Simon’s sergeants are pretty quiet for how much they usually babble. They are, however, shoving their faces in with food in a matter that makes you scowl.

They’re dogs, really. Johnny looks positively famished. He’s got his cheeks pillowed with eggs and toast, and you look away from Gaz as he tips his head back to wash down a mouthful of ham with coffee.

You jump when you feel a fist hit the table. It rattles the trays, and Johnny’s orange juice splatters a little outside of the cup. Simon is back from the kitchen, sliding your own tray in front of you. Your mouth waters a little at the smell of the freshly baked croissant and moka pot of coffee that waits for you, and the sergeants grumble a little as they look up at their lieutenant.

“Would you both fuckin’ eat with y’r fuckin’ mouths closed?” Simon snaps. “Bloody rats eat more proper than you lot.”

“What’s the matter, LT?” Johnny gulps down his food, wiping his mouth with a wet thumb. He smiles at you with teeth, and you pick up your fork to busy yourself. You can see feel his crazy eyes on you, trained on your face. He licks over his teeth as he does. “Want us to be proper gentlemen around yer bonnie girl?” He wiggles his tongue at you. “What’s proper about knotting a pretty little omega like tha’, aye? Can smell ‘er from ‘ere…Smell like taffy.”

Simon takes a seat on the bench next to Johnny. You stare wide-eyed as Simon cocks his head to the side. Your eyes water a little as you see Simon slide a big hand up Johnny’s neck. He leans into it, clearly comfortable (you’re going to try and forget this observation), but his face contorts from contentment to sheer pain as Simon wraps his gloved fingers into the curls of his mohawk and pulls. Johnny’s neck snaps back at a hard angle, making him hiss and kick his legs out. They bang against the table, shaking it, and Gaz looks down at his plate as Simon tugs Johnny close to him.

“You listen ‘ere, Sergeant. I’ll say this once, and I won’t repeat it,” Simon growls. “If I hear you say one more word about my mate’s cunt, I’ll rip your throat out with my own teeth. Don’t care ‘ow many times you’ve covered me or saved my arse on the field. My rank is her rank, so from now on, I want you to drop y’r eyes when she looks at you, and I want you to say, yes, ma’am, and nothin’ else, you ‘ear that?” Johnny grits his teeth as Simon shakes his head violently, holding him firm. “And if I hear about it when I’m not around, I’ll let her cut y’r dick off, yeah? Or maybe I’ll let her shoot you in the head again. And trust me, mate, she won’t miss–”

“Simon,” you interrupt gently. Simon’s face turns, and you meet his eyes. You shake your head a little. “It’s…it’s okay. Johnny’s just a huge flirt, and it came out wrong. Didn’t it, Johnny?”

Simon closes his fist, letting out a sharp breath. His eyes are a little darker than you’re used to. You’re not sure he’ll listen to you, but when you see his fingers start to loosen, you relax a little. You don’t understand why he’s defending you, anyways, but maybe Simon has some twisted moral code when it comes to insulting his mate.

That only he gets to, and no one else.

“Yeah–” Johnny spits, and when Simon lets him go roughly, Johnny just laughs a little. His cheeks are rosy, and he tries to shake it off, but you can tell by the way he averts his eyes and the smell that wafts from him–Johnny is terrified of his lieutenant.

Simon stands, making the table rattle again. Johnny’s cup spills over the edge, and your cutlery falls to the floor as he makes his way out of the mess hall, throwing the doors open and letting them slam shut behind him. You scoff, rolling your eyes, and you swipe Gaz’s fork from his tray before continuing to eat.

“What the fuck is his problem?” You stab your sausage with the fork, cutting it angrily, and Johnny clears his throat. His rubs the back of his neck, rolling it out carefully.

“Yer serious?” Johnny scoffs. “Fuckin’ big man is in love with ye.”

Not me. He’s in love with…her.

“He’s just mad because he thinks he’s the only one entitled to say anything derogatory to me,” you explain. “He’s such an asshole, I swear. So are you, Johnny, by the way–I’m not gonna wet your dick for you, go flirt with someone else.”

Gaz snorts, shaking his head, and you pour him a little more coffee from the pot Simon left for you and some for yourself.

“Kind of sweet, innit?” Gaz murmurs. “He cares about you, you know.”

“Yeah?” You raise a brow. “Has a real funny way of showing it. You don’t see him when we’re alone. He’s mean. I don’t know what goes on in your heads, but your kind jump to conclusions. And you assume. And you’re too aggressive.”

“Well, what did you expect?” Gaz asks. He turns to look at you, shrugging. “That’s how we’re made.”

“I try everyday to be anything but how I’m made,” you say lowly.

It’s a lousy excuse, especially for an operative like him. Kyle and Johnny are no strangers to aversion or high-stakes. There is combat, and then there is what this team does. You’ve peeked at the papers on Simon’s desk. You’ve read the files you have no clearance to read. For the air-headedness that Simon radiates, he’s excellent at writing post-op reports, with fine detail. He doesn’t miss anything. This team isn’t something like SWAT–they don’t carry big guns for show and break down suburban houses. They hit foreign targets without a trace and eliminate threats before they blink. They are in and out of a building in thirty minutes, and they leave no man behind and no target alive. Each of them are experts in their own subject, and even with Johnny’s big, disgusting mouth, you cannot deny what makes him special.

He could make an explosive out of regular kitchen supplies; maybe even out of the toiletries you keep in a go-bag. His affection for chemistry is as equal to that of a good, protein-rich meal. Kyle is no different–you’ve seen him just for fun program an auto-correct feature into John’s laptop that replaced every word that he typed that started with a vowel to shitfucker. You saw him do it remotely. Over Bluetooth. With a Blackberry.

These aren’t just operators. These aren’t just idiot, self-engorged, misogynistic and animalistic men that panted and waited for orders like lovesick puppies, they are much too intelligent and way too self-aware. You won’t take that’s how we’re made as an excuse–it’s beneath them, if you’re being honest, and it’s infuriating. They aren’t a normal pack, and they never will be, and so you need them to stop using stereotypical excuses as reason for them being just like the rest.

It is conscious. It’s disgusting. It’s exactly as you thought it would be.

“Well maybe if ye tried that less, tried just being what ye are…things would be easier for ye,” Johnny mutters, picking up his overturned cup and sighing sharply through his nose. You drop your fork and lean forward on your elbows.

Oh, alright. If Johnny wants to play rank, then you can play rank.

“You know, you both have a lot of nerve,” you say lowly. “I would start being very fucking nice to me from now on. Simon and I may not get along, and maybe we never will. But he sure as shit won’t stand aside if tuck my tail between my legs and blame one of you for something you didn’t do.”

“Thought you said he hated you?” Gaz mocks. “Thought you said he was mean?”

You stand up and shove your tray towards them, starting to walk. You lean over to murmur in Gaz’s ear.

“He is,” you threaten. “But he’s still an alpha, my alpha, and pussy talks, Gaz. You’d know. You’ve been drooling for it since I sat down. I can smell you, too.”

You pat Gaz’s cheek a bit too roughly, and he snarls a little. You smile to yourself as you make your way out, and down the hall, you see a familiar shadow disappear around the corner into the darkness. You cross your arms over your chest, sighing, and then you start towards it.

When you round the corner, he’s standing right there. Leaned against the wall, big arms crossed over his chest. His face twitches under the mask. You move to stand in front of him so you can get his eyes.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want to babysit me, you can’t seem to leave me alone.”

“I have others to answer to if something happens to you.”

“Don’t act like you care what other people think. Especially your superiors.” You roll your eyes. You don’t have much more time to talk to him. Or berate him, you were still deciding. A shadow comes up next to you, and when you turn, Captain Price is staring at you both, nodding his head behind him.

“I need to have a word. With both of you.”

You give Simon a look, but he doesn’t give one back. He merely slips a hand down your back and puts you in front of him, ushering you to walk. You’ve never been reprimanded by a superior, not because of a mission or anything of stake, so you can’t help the feeling that overcomes you–something of failure.

Had you done something wrong? Surely you had.

John’s office is bigger than Simon’s, but just as messy. Messier. There’s a pretty beta secretary out in front of it, and she smiles at you and waves. She’s too cute–too sweet. She probably puts sugar in John’s tea to make him smile or draws little smiley faces on messages from missed calls. You pity her and wish you were her all the same. When she notices your solemn face, she shrinks and dips her head, picking up her pen and continuing to fill out some forms.

John waits for both you and Simon to sit before shutting his office door behind him. He sucks on his teeth before tossing his hat onto his desk, nodding towards the two creaky seats in front of him.

“Sit.”

“Rather stand,” Simon counters, but one hard look from his captain, and Simon is begrudgingly taking a seat. The metal creaks under his weight, and you take a seat next to him. John sits on his desk in front of you both, and he looks at Simon before ending on you.

The scents in the air are driving you insane. You take a breath to try and keep your eyes from watering, but it’s difficult.

“You know, Kit, our team isn’t known for…following the rules,” John begins. “But I was assured that…if anything went wrong, that my lieutenant here would be responsible. He vouched for you.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You prepare yourself for the beratement. You sit up a little straighter, squaring your shoulders. The neutral expression your face falls into seems to irk your captain. He scrunches his nose a bit, smoothing a palm over the papers in front of him. He’s trying to establish his air of dominance, but it’s increasingly easy to stare him back down when your alpha sits right beside you.

There’s comfort in his presence, and your omega feeds on it.

“I saw you shoot. Got a good eye for those kinds of things, I’ll admit,” John nods. “And you did well in training. Followed Simon. His orders. Saw you clearin’ rooms like you’ve been on this team for years.” He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Blue, but empty. “He was right. Fast learner. You know your place.” You narrow your eyes at that, and he hums. “But it doesn’t change what this is. What you are.”

You’re surprised at the way your omega curls in your gut. Angry. There’s an alpha insulting you, but this one isn’t yours. She warms your hands, and you dig your nails into your chair to keep her calm. She wants to bite, and she’s confident with Simon at her side.

“An asset?” You try talking instead.

“A liability.” John leans forward. “You put my men in danger. Going into heat like that.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. It’s alienation. You are an outsider. Not part of his pack. John draws a circle around himself, and you are not included in it, and the sentiment leaks into his words like a flood, and it hits you through the chest. Your lip trembles just slightly, but you swallow down the rejection, keeping it close. Your omega whimpers–an alpha, though it is not your own, is isolating you, and it hurts her.

“She didn’t–” Simon is interrupted by John’s laughter.

“You were off comms for 15 minutes and 37 seconds, an amount of time that during an op is fucking critical and could’ve blown the entire operation!” John snaps. “I told you to be fucking careful, I told you both to take precautions, and you failed me. I can understand you–” He points at you, and omega lingers unsaid, “but you, Simon? You–”

“It wasn’t his fault, it was mine,” you interrupt. “I should’ve known.”

“He’s your alpha, it’s his fuckin’ job,” John clarifies. “But Simon has more than one job, and on that day, it was keeping the target in his sight and waiting for my fuckin’ say.”

“Don’t reprimand him for making the call,” you tell him. “I’m the one who misread what I was feeling. I’m the one who distracted him from what he was doing. I’m the one who was projecting so badly, he had to help. It’s me. I screwed up. I’m just as much of your team as they are, so hold me accountable, not Simon.”

“You are not on my team, you are my problem.”

She wails. She grips your heart in both hands and hangs on, crying, wailing, begging you to say something to make him approve of you. She so desperately wants to be included in Simon’s pack, and it aches inside to be pushed away. You dig your nails in further, and you don’t realize how much your scent is flaring. Simon gets one whiff of it and snarls. His hands close into fists.

You goin’ to let tha’ wanker talk to your mate tha’ way? You goin’ to let another alpha walk all over her? He’s challenging you, tha’s wot this is, innit?

“Choose y’r next words wisely, Captain.” Simon finally speaks, and his tone rattles you. His voice dips low, and you can hear his alpha soaking into his words, and the bitterness in the air has to be him deciding whether or not today would be a good day to stand up to his captain.

“Tha’ right, Simon?” John murmurs. “Is that an order?”

Simon stands. Immediately, the humidity in the room expands, and you nearly choke from the sting of their scents in the air. Simon is much larger than John. He’s so much bigger, so much wider. You stand, too, and when Simon feels your hand along his bicep, his shoulders loosen just an inch.

Your omega may beg for approval and inclusion, but even she stands down when you remind her of the importance of pack bonds. You are not mated, and Simon has his own to keep, so you must appease. It hurts to do it, but you know you will thank yourself later.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” you say softly. “I-It won’t happen again. I swear…I promise.” Your eyes water, and you try to hold in the cough you’re holding. “First time…and the last time.”

Simon’s task force is a unique group. Four alphas–a lot of ego and fighting dominance in one bunch. It’s normally not done. They like to have a nice mix of betas and alphas to keep groups balanced, but Kate needed an exceptional group, so she built one. Four alphas in one pack is not common, but it works–and she has the stats to prove it.

You wonder if she knew what would happen when she threw you into the mix. How each of them might react when an omega tried to slip in between them. If Kyle would try to sink his teeth in. If Johnny would pass out from panting so fucking hard. If John would let his resolve slip for just long enough to blur the lines between a commanding officer and his subordinate.

Maybe Simon reacted just as she expected. That he would see what was meant just for him and pull her apart so he could slip under her ribs and stay right there. You have not been claimed, and yet–it is truth. They know it, Simon knows it, you know it, and so does your omega.

Simon paces in his room. A slow pace, but paces, and you observe him from your place on the bed as he breathes deeply. His alpha is leaking through the cracks, and you can smell his anger. It fumes, makes your nose curl. It’s a bitter scent. Your omega purrs in your chest–she wants to soothe him.

We will do no such thing. Shut the fuck up.

“You need to let me handle things when we get cornered like tha’.”

“I’m a big girl, Simon,” you say softly. “And it was my mistake.”

“It doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” Simon explains. “I’m your alpha.”

“I don’t care,” you shake your head. “You don’t speak for me.”

“No, I speak for us both,” Simon points a finger at you, coming closer. “For you and for me, and you need to understand tha’.”

You glare up at him. In all the time you’ve spent with him, he’s still letting his alpha bleed when he’s angry. You need to understand nothing–Simon needs to learn. He needs to learn that the omega they write about in textbooks isn’t reality. You fight your omega tooth and nail for control, and you are still on top for now. Simon needs to learn this. He needs to learn that you are not easily influenced by command. You may smell like an omega. You may keen like an omega.

But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I submit like an omega.

“Fuck you.”

Don’t talk like that…you know you want to.

“Ya already ‘ave, kitty,” Simon spits. “Would you like to go again?”

“I know this is hard for you to get through your thick head,” you whisper. “But just because I fucked you doesn’t mean anything. What happened between us was clinical. Your dick is medicine, and there was nothing I could do, and that is where this ends. You can tell yourself over and over again that you are my mate…that you’re my hero, that you saved me, but maybe next time, I’ll just let my omega kill me. The thought of you inside of me ever again makes me physically fucking sick.”

You’re a bad liar.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say lowly. He leans closer, until his face is nearly against yours. “You’re a pathetic, insecure, waste of space. I will never be your mate, and I pity every omega that might come after me, that has the unfortunate mistake of thinking you could claim them with any sense at all. You use and you abuse, and you have your head so far up your ass, I don’t think you know what’s real and what isn’t.”

Simon stares. You stare back. Your chest heaves, and so does his, and you keep your eyes on each other as you stare back and forth. His eyes are so dark. Beautiful, but so dark, it’s difficult to tell what he’s thinking. It’s not long that you notice his lashes fade to blonde at the end of them. His skin, where it bleeds from the eye-black he wears to the pale color of his face, has freckles scattered around the eyes. You can see the raised, white line of a scar that is just peeking from under the mask.

Isn’t he so pretty?

“On your knees,” Simon murmurs.

It’s whiplash. One moment, your entire body is buzzing. Angry, fiery–you can feel it shaking you. You hate him with ever fiber, want to smack the smug look you know he wears under that mask. You hate the power that he has over you and how much he relishes in it. The next moment, in a few slow words, it vanishes.

Like it was never even there at all.

“Excuse me?” You breathe.

“On your knees. Lose the pants. ‘n y’r knickers.”

“What makes you–”

“Won’t ask again.”

We need this. We need this. We need this.

It’s just that easy. For all the resolve that it feels like you have, maybe you really have none. You blink, but then he hears the sound of you toeing off your boots. They hit the floor, and then your cargos are falling on top of them, and then you’re turning over, sliding along the warm sheets of his bed until you’re lying on your tummy, ass up, and you’re closing your eyes as his gloved hands push your panties down your thighs until they’re around your knees.

You don’t really know who’s doing it. You’re afraid to think about it too hard, because you know that it just might be you.

He eats nasty. All tongue. He spreads your ass with big palms, and you gurgle when he kisses your folds with tongue. Your brain starts to fog, and you relax easily. He kisses soft and slow, but wet. You fist the blankets, pushing back, and he slides a thumb down to smooth over your puffy clit very gently. He hisses when he sees your hole flex in response, a drop of slick falling onto his palm.

“Kitty, why didn’t ya just say so?” Simon asks, stupid and fascinated by you. “Why didn’t you just say you wanted y’r pretty pussy kissed, hmm?”

“Because I hate you–” You whine, and Simon slips his tongue inside of you. You babble, your mouth dropping open, and he hums as he gets a taste of you before pulling back, smacking his lips. The taste of you spreads across his tongue, and his alpha howls. He’s never spoken to him this way, not really. The only time his alpha has ever really come to the forefront like this was the times he thought he was close to death; but Simon’s never been this close to life, either.

“I know,” he coos. “I know ya do. But this isn’t personal, is it?” He uses his thumbs to open you up, growling when he sees your hole pucker a little. A dribble of slick falls, and he catches it with his tongue, swallowing it down. “How’d ya put it, luv? ‘s medicine?”

“Your dick is medicine.”

“My mouth, too, I reckon.”

“Shut the fuck up, and eat me, baby,” you whimper, and he opens his mouth wide and licks with a thick tongue. He presses his mouth to your cunt and eats, bobbing his head as he alternates between slobbering licks and eager sucking. His tongue slides between your folds occasionally before slipping into you, and you curl your toes every time he brushes against your clit. His thumb will sometimes circle it, or his tongue will suck softly, but he never stays there too long. Simon likes to tease. He likes to make you a little desperate, likes to get you soft and drippy and dizzy, and then he gives in a little. He gives you two fingers, gloved still, and you push back against his face with gentle grinds as he fucks you softly with his hand. It’s agony and relief all at once.

“Like tha’?” He asks. He sounds amused. You hope his hard cock gets pinched by his zipper.

“Mmm–” You try. You arch your back, getting up onto your elbows, and Simon uses his free hand to give one side of your ass a nice smack, jiggling it gently before kissing where he hit. You giggle at that, soft and airy.

“Answer me, omega.”

“Fucking love it,” you gasp. “Big fingers–”

Simon laughs at that. You can smell his ego, but you don’t have it in you to say something smart. It’s true. Even with his hand, he fucks good, hitting deep. His mouth did wonders, and you’re dripping along his hand. His glove is soaked, and his forearm is wet, and when you glance down at the sheets, they are damp and dark with the mess you made. Simon doesn’t seem to mind. He leans in to eat more, pulling his fingers out so he can use his mouth again, tongue deep as he sucks and hinges that big jaw to get a mouthful of you and groan. You taste good–nice and sweet, thick juices wetting his chin, and he squeezes your ass in appreciation when you throw it back and smother him. He likes this. Likes the lack of air, the wet pussy, the soft whines. He’s content here, and he doesn’t seem like he wants to move anytime soon, and he doesn’t complain. He just opens his mouth and swirls and tongue and fuck–your clit is in his mouth, and you’re crying.

It’s too kind. An alpha kneeling for their mate. Taking pleasure in their pleasure. It’s not unheard of, but it’s…unorthodox. It confuses you. Your omega cries with happiness, but she’s confused, too. She doesn’t expect pleasure just for pleasure–but she wants it, she wants more of it, she’s digging her nails into your skin to try and get you to convince Simon to give you more, more, more.

“Give it to me,” Simon murmurs. “‘s olright. Give it to me.”

“Simon–”

“Mhm,” he nods, cocking his head and taking your clit into his mouth again. “Give it ‘ere.”

Your orgasm hits hard, but it’s nice and slow. Your thighs shake, but Simon sinks into you, breathing out through his nose as he delicately laps at your clit. He doesn’t stop, swallowing as you come into his mouth, keeping the pace to make sure your orgasm fizzles just as good as it hit you.

You sink to your tummy when he pulls away. Your knees give out, and he slips your panties completely off, and you flop onto the dry side of the bed. You start to cry. Not tears of relief, but tears of pain. Of what is inevitable. Of the hard truth that you loathe more than anything.

Simon can never force you. You will always want him, you think. There will always be something in the back of your mind that aches for him, and you try and you try and you try to fight it off, but you want him so viscerally, it cuts you deep where you’ll never notice it.

“Say wotever you want about me,” Simon mutters. “Tell yourself wotever you want that helps you sleep at night, hate me oll you want. But I take care of wot’s mine.” He strokes your hair out of your eyes, leaning down, and you cry harder. You clutch a pillow, hug it tight, and your eyes flutter open as you look at him. His mask is still hiked up just under his nose, and you can see half his face. Scars that cut across him like paintbrush strokes, adding texture and depth where there shouldn’t be.

“You have no idea what it’s like,” you whisper. “You have no idea what it’s like for every single part of yourself to betray what you want. You don’t get it. Y-You don’t understand, you never will. You will always have the upper hand, and y-you will never know what it’s like to not have a choice.”

Simon continues to brush through your hair with his fingers. Soothing you gently, coaxing you into a headspace that feels like white noise. You whine, and Simon comes closer. He presses his mouth to your forehead, soft, gentle, his scent close enough that your beating heart slows down considerably just in response.

“No, I won’t,” Simon agrees. “But that’s what you are. You’re an omega.”

He says it like it’s so simple. Like it explains everything in the entire world. Being an omega is the simplest answer he could ever give, and it explains every variable, every nuance, every quirk that makes you you. It explains every time you sink to your knees for him. It explains how easily you let him fuck you on a rooftop in a foreign country. It explains how even though you hate him with every fiber of your being, there is somehow no one else you want standing over you now.

“I’m still me.”

“No,” Simon shakes his head. “You cannot change wot you are. You’re fighting her, and you will lose.”

You wonder, for just a second, if Simon is speaking from experience. Have there been times when his alpha takes over? Does it take control? Are there times when he looks in the mirror, too, and doesn’t know who is staring back?

“I hate her, too,” you spit. “I hate her, and I hate you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his terrible face. The first one you’ve ever seen. You hate the urge you have to lean forward and kiss it.

“She is you.”

“Then I hate me. I hate myself.”

Simon changes the sheets silently. He picks you up and moves you when he has to–two big, burly arms picking you up like you’re a feather. You cling to his neck, studying him, and you find yourself not being able to look away. He’s so capable. He’s so independent. He’s so reactive to your needs, it infuriates you, how could one man be so in tune with you, more than yourself?

He drapes all new blankets over you. He turns out most of the lights, except for the low glow of the yellow lamp on his desk. He tucks you in, making sure you’re warm, and then he bends down to say something to you, in your ear.

“Dunno wot you think,” he tells you, “but there will be no omega after you.” His voice drops low, and when you close your eyes, you hear his alpha. Threatening, affirmative, exact. “You are mine. I’ll not ‘ave another. The sooner you accept tha’, the easier things’ll be for you.”

Mine, mine, mine–

“Eat a dick.”

Mine, mine, mine–

“Much prefer y’r cunt, kitty.”

Simon’s protection is instinctual. It’s not really a choice, it’s subconscious. He watches you braid your hair in your room, observes as you tuck it behind your ears and tie it off your face. He hovers as you gear up. Watches you buckle your belt, strap your tact vest, adjust your helmet. He comes over after you’ve laced your boots, tugging on your vest to make sure it’s secure and fastening your helmet for you. You let him as you clip your watch on, closing your eyes as he smooths a thumb across your cheek and turns you towards the door.

It’s a long flight. You fall asleep, your face smushed against his arm, and when you wake up, Simon is still sitting there, hands on his knees, staring straight ahead. John smokes, Gaz has a folded up little book in his hand with what seems like sudoku pages, and Johnny is twirling what looks like a fidget spinner in one hand. You blink awake, but it’s dark out, pitch-black.

That’s the job. Dark, where you can use night as cover. Stealth. You and Simon have been tasked with clearing out one building on your own. Several stories, possible targets inside, presumed armed and dangerous. You were given the clear to eliminate any threats on sight–the op is capture or kill, and John made that very clear in a small room that reeked of his authority.

The bird drops you a few kilometers from where your target building lies. You flip the night-vision down, flicking it on, and you stick to Simon like glue as you follow him silently through empty streets. You’re somewhere in Eastern Europe, somewhere cold and unfeeling and just on the border of Russia. You aren’t privy to any more details; all you know is that your mission is to be Simon’s cover, and you have the face of your target memorized and burned into the back of your eyes.

You spot your target building at the end of the block. The streetlight flickers, and it looks like a low-income apartment building. It’s very small, dilapidated, with a peeling entrance door that has the window broken, hastily patched up with duct tape. It’s no trouble for Simon to stick the scope of his rifle through the duct table and shred the remaining glass to pieces, putting his hand through the window and unlocking the door easily.

The first few floors are clear. Simon always enters a room first, with you in quick succession. You are silent, touch and go, soft taps on shoulders that the both of you can read immediately. You’re in tune with him. When he steps left, so do you. When he turns, you cover, when he sweeps up, you sweep down. It’s a dance, a very well coordinated one, and it lets Simon breathe easier when he realizes how well you’ve adapted to each other over a short period of time.

Just a few weeks, and you are two sides of each other.

Simon swallows down the prideful purr in his chest. Now isn’t the time to get distracted.

When you make your way to the top floor, just below the roof, your chest starts to feel warm. You pause at the top of the stairs as Simon keeps his rifle trained at the first door in front of him. You swallow hard, widening your stance to keep yourself upright. You shake your head, trying to toss the jitters off of you. Your throat hurts as the saliva goes down.

Simon clears the room with you shuffling close behind. You blink rapidly when you see two of Simon, and he whips around suddenly. You can see him through your night vision stiffening in front of you. Shoulders tensing, fingers gripping his rifle tighter. You pause as he comes close to you, and your eyes water when he lifts one hand from his gun to cup your face gently.

You know what he’s asking. You nod shakily, and he taps his wrist with two fingers.

Give me two minutes, is what he’s saying to you.

You don’t get two minutes.

The door behind you slams open. Two men breach inside, and they come at you with a force too strong, and you go flying towards the far wall. Your back hits it hard, and you collapse onto the ground. Your whole body aches, and you know there will an array of nasty bruises under the skin. Your helmet took the brunt of the hit, but you still feel dizzy as it falls off your head, clattering to the ground. You cough, scrambling for your rifle that is a few feet away from you now, and Simon drops one of them with a few easy bullets, but the second man uses his dead companion as cover, throwing the body at Simon until he can lunge at him.

Simon swipes the blade out of his boot and goes for his weak spots. He manages to get him under the arm, across his thigh, but Simon is wearing a lot of gear, and with the weight of a dead alpha getting tossed at him again, he gets moved backwards enough to lose his footing, and then it happens.

The man’s gun fires, and it goes straight for Simon’s head. A flash of light that seals some sick sort of fate that you know can’t be yours. It’s not you that screams in response.

It is your omega.

You launch yourself at him. In your daze, your omega finds clarity, and she seizes her moment. You slip the blade out of its place in your thigh holster, and you toss a nearby chair at him to incapacitate his gun. It gets trapped underneath it, enough time for you to jump and land on him from behind.

He’s an alpha. Physically, you should be no match for him given your size differences, but something else is taking over. Your nails don’t just grab, they pierce his skin. Digging it, shredding flesh, and you bring your blade down over and over again against his chest. He screams in pain, trying to wriggle you off. You lock your ankles around his middle, keeping your hand coming, tearing with your nails and slicing with your knife, but he manages to get an arm underneath you and throw you off.

You hit the ground again roughly, but it doesn’t stop your omega. She gets right back up, but he tackles you. He uses his weight to pin you down, and the knife rings as it slides across the room, but your omega doesn’t let it stop her. He got too close, and she will make sure he regrets it.

He went for your mate, and she cannot have that. She won’t survive without him. Unclaimed, but she doesn’t care–Simon is hers, and she won’t let him go without something all-encompassing and violent. He’ll have to pry Simon out of her dead hands. You feel like you’re watching from the sidelines. You’re not yourself. It’s the first time that you don’t really care.

You scream, leaning up, and he doesn’t get a moment to think before you sink your teeth into the plush of his scent gland and rip it clean out.

Fuck. There’s blood gushing everywhere, spurting from where you’ve severed the gland. The gland is precious, anatomically–it provides most of the oxygen to the brain, and it’s what seals the bond. While it can’t be marked the same way an omega’s can, an alpha can’t survive without it. You’re finding out just how precious it is as you watch an alpha cough and sputter once he realizes what’s happening to him.

He crawls off of you, trying to use his hand to put pressure to his neck, but it’s no use. He leans against the wall and chokes, blood filling his mouth, and you spit out the flesh from between your teeth as you watch him gurgle and kick his feet out. He reaches out for you, pleading in his eyes, but you feel no mercy. There’s tears coming down his face now, and you watch with a scowl as the blood spills between his fingers instead of bringing his brain precious life.

Good fucking riddance.

You turn over once you’re satisfied he won’t get up. You see Simon still sprawled on his back behind you, and you scramble to get to him. You grab his helmet and throw it off, and you start to cry, feeling around and realizing there’s something sticky oozing and pooling onto your fingers. You can’t see very well in the dark, but you put pressure anyways, unsure of what you’re dealing with. Your heartbeat is loud, and it echoes in your ears.

“No–No!” You gasp. You grab Simon’s radio, hands shaking as you press down onto the button.

“Bravo-6, d-do you c-copy?” You cry. “Bravo-6, answer–please–”

“Kit?” John’s voice comes out surprised, low. “What happened?”

“Si–Ghost–” You sob, “W-We need a medevac! Medevac–top floor–”

Your hands continue to shake as you reach for the bottom of his mask and rip it off. It’s the first time you’ve seen him without the mask, but you need to know. You need to know.

His face–it is a little ugly. The eye-black is smeared across his freckles, bleeding across his face from the sweat. He has scars everywhere; they criss-cross along his cheek, cut his lips, but you ignore that as you lean down and put your ear to his mouth.

His breaths come shallow and slow.

You cry with relief, feeling around with your fingers. When all you feel is blood, you pick up his helmet and cry harder when you notice the side of the helmet has been grazed, and the bullet casing lies near his head.

He had missed.

He missed.

You cup his face, tapping his cheeks gently, trying to wake him up.

“Simon?” You whisper, sniffling. “Simon, wake up. Please wake up. Please–”

You can’t carry him. Even if you tried to get your omega to help you, you aren’t physically strong enough to pick him up and carry him out. He’s too big and too heavy, and you wouldn’t be useful anyways; you’d be without cover trying to haul his ass to a bird that’s just too far away.

“Simon–”

He coughs. You gasp, wrapping an arm under him and trying to sit him up. He’s so much heavier with all of his gear on, but you do it anyways, lifting him up and laying his head in your lap. You lean down, pressing your forehead to his, and you cup the back of his neck.

“I thought he killed you–” You sob. Simon hums, his eyes opening and closing, and you smooth a few fingers down his cheek, relieved to hear him breathe. In and out, in and out, low and slow as he blinks away the spots in his vision.

Your eyes meet. It’s not a look you were expecting. You expected him to be angry, but he’s not. He’s looking at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. You must look a sight, you think. There must be blood on your face, staining your teeth, but all of your senses are dulled as you try and read him.

Your hands shake as you brush a bit of dust off his face. Your fingers are trembling, but it’s grounding to touch him and see him blink those dark eyes up at you. God, he’s not ugly, no, he’s gorgeous. He’s so beautiful. He’ll never be prettier than the way he is now. Raw and vulnerable–Simon is most himself here, you think, stuck in the in-between of an operation. This is where he must feel everything the most. You open your mouth to say something else, to ask him if he’s okay, but then his face scrunches when he finally realizes where you are.

“On the door,” Simon mutters. “Get y’r gun on the fuckin’ door.”

“Simon–”

“Now!”

You scramble to reach for the handgun in your thigh holster, turning to get up on your knees and cover the door. You will your hands to stop shaking, gripping the handle of the gun tight to keep them steady. You can hear Simon getting himself together behind you. Shuffling onto his feet, picking up his rifle and his helmet. When you look over your shoulder for just a second, you notice his mask is back on.

“Bravo-7 to Bravo-6, east building clear,” Simon rasps. He shoves his way past you, rattling you a little, and you stare at his back, defeated, as he clears the rest of the floor before making his way up the last flight of stairs. You hear your captain responding on comms, but you’re not paying enough attention. Simon slams the roof door shut once its behind you, and you wipe your eyes as Simon gets situated for overwatch as you cover the door.

“Simon, are you–”

“I don’t want to hear another word outta you unless we got contact on this fuckin’ roof,” Simon interrupts.

“I saved your ass!” You cry. “I did that! He would’ve killed you, you fucking asshole, so for once in your life, can you just look at me and say a fucking thank you?!”

Maybe Simon’s right. If you fight your omega, maybe you will lose. She might just kill you. You know she can. You’ve seen it happen before. Omegas that didn’t listen, losing themselves to the insanity of their inner struggle. It’s a violent end. It’s like they electrocute from the inside-out. Their minds betray them, and they let it take over, and with no alpha to soothe them, they’re just gone. If they drift too far, you can’t get yourself back.

Use me. I know what to do. I can get him back.

You do the only other thing you can try; you let your omega do the talking. The sweet, syrupy voice. The soft lilt. The edge that glides, doesn’t cut, the one that will hit his ear just right and hopefully get his alpha tick-tick-ticking inside of his head. The one that didn’t work on Kate–but Kate was not your mate. Kate never responded to you at all, not the way Simon does, and Kate has never tasted your cunt. Her alpha doesn’t know what she’s missing.

I can do it. Let me in.

“Please, Simon,” you beg. You see his fingers twitch as he adjusts the scope on his rifle. They falter, adjusting it just a few degrees too far. Simon doesn’t make mistakes, but then again he’s never had his omega purring in his ear like that. “Please.”

You make your way to him, curling a hand around his bicep. You tug him closer, trying to get him to look at you. He resists, but it’s a pathetic kind of resistance. The kind that you can overpower with just another firm tug. You can sense it, his hesitance, and your omega giggles in your head.

I have him. I can do it. Don’t worry.

“John was right,” Simon breathes. “You’re a problem. A liability.”

A liability because he doesn’t belong to anyone but you, maybe. He’s John’s liability. Not yours. Simon may be a part of their pack, but they should’ve picked up a fucking book when they knew you were coming. Submissiveness might be an inherent “trait” of your kind, but you realize now that is just a lie that alphas tell omegas to keep them quiet.

To keep them soft. To keep them begging. It’s probably something that your kind have learned over time, so distinct that you inherit it from someone that came before you, but you’re convinced that this kind of obedience and docility can be unlearned. It can be used.

If an omega cries, it would be stupid for an alpha to ignore it. It’s in their DNA–with just a soft whine, you can make Simon drop that rifle and bend you over any surface. They say it is for your sake. They say it is because omegas must be serviced or else they will succumb to themselves, but that isn’t what this is, and that’s not why omegas aren’t allowed in the field.

They’re not allowed because you can make Simon defy orders; because John can tell Simon something, and you can tell him something else, and you’re almost certain you know which way Simon will lean.

“Please just look at me, Simon,” you whisper. “Please.”

You cradle his face when he finally does. Your palms touch his wet mask, likely soaked with his own blood. You stand on your toes and draw his face closer to yours.

Fuck them for making you feel small. Fuck them for making you feel less than. Fuck anyone that ever made you feel like you were anything but in control, including her. If she just explained what she could do, this could’ve been a lot easier. If she just told you what she was capable of, you could’ve worked together. You could’ve given her what she wanted, and she could’ve given you what you wanted, and it could’ve been so much simpler.

“Gonna get me fuckin’ killed,” Simon growls. You start to cry again. Not because what he’s saying hurts you, but because he’s still bleeding, and all you can see when you close your eyes is that gun firing right at his head.

This is your ticket. This is your way out. Fuck Kate for making you believe that all you were meant for was being in his bed. You’re so close–aren’t you? You didn’t realize how close you were, but now you do, and you know exactly what to do.

You’re going to make them very, very sorry. You’re going to make them regret ever letting you inside. Your divisive, spitfire nature was not your line of defense. It was the indication of the future you always dreamed of, the future that is one bite-mark away from being tangible. You can taste it, like you taste what Simon wants in the air.

I can do it. I can help you. Let me in.

There was never a reason to be afraid. If anything, they should’ve been afraid of you.

You kiss him. It’s not a proper kiss, because his face is still covered, but you kiss Simon anyways. His cheeks warm, and his lips part, and you kiss him softly over and over as you take his face into your hands. When his arm slides around your waist, your omega is comfortable letting your knees buckle.

She knows already that Simon will catch you.

NEXT

[thinkinonsense]

Sit Still｡𖦹°‧

—gif credit: not mine!! i can't remember where i found it but if i can find it again or the owner comments, ill add their username <3

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: cockwarming (sorta?), innocence kink, p in v, logan attempts to teach reader how to ride.

a/n: apologies for this being so short but chapter two of bewitched should be out friday or saturday! also i'll be responding to some requests soon too in case i spam lmao

"a-are you sure 'bout this, lo?"

your timid voice echos around the bedroom, capturing logan's attention again. he's been dreaming for months of this sight in front of him; you sitting pretty in his lap, only wearing a pink lacy bra and a pair of matching panties.

"you want me to make you feel good, right sweetheart?"

a small sigh escapes you as you attempt to grind onto him again. logan places his large hands on your waist to stop you from wiggling around. he knows you can't help it, you're still new to this after all.

it started a month ago when you and logan were left alone together in the mansion. everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away. you were recovering from a cold and logan simply didn't want to chaperone. instead, he offered to stay back with you.

late one evening, he came in to check on you and ask if there was anything you needed. that's when you asked him the question that nearly killed him, 'will you take my virginity?' you didn't see a problem with it. the two of you weren't strangers, you trusted logan, and he obviously has experience since he's much older than you.

ever since that night, you two have been going at it like rabbits. tonight, logan promised to help you get used to being on top. more importantly, training you to take him from this angle.

"c'mon, baby..." he coos with one hand on your hip and the other holding a cigar to his lips. "do it just like i told ya'."

swiftly, logan removes the rest of the material between the two of you before resting back against the mattress. anxiously, you line him up to your entrance and slowly sink down until you're sat fully on his lap again.

"nice 'n slow for me, sweetheart. that's it, stay still..." logan hums, lost in your tight, wet heat. he can hear every little noise coming from your lips. "atta girl."

it's a struggle to take all of him at once. you can feel him deep in your gut, nudging that sweet spot inside of you. logan can tell that your nerves are still tangled in knots, practically strangling his cock.

"lo, i c-can't do it." you huff, upset at yourself. "too full to move."

"poor fuckin' baby." logan teases with faux sympathy. "how 'bout we try something else for now?"

too caught up with the soft grind of his hips, you nod your head mindlessly to his proposal. logan brings his thumb to his lips, replacing the cigar which is now back on the nightstand. he sits up, making you whimper as he does so. you lean forward to capture his lips with your own, whispering how badly you needed him to just fuck you himself. instead, logan's got something else in mind.

"ah!" you gasp as he starts to rub your button with the wet pad of thumb. "f-fuck, right there..."

the soft rocking of your hips makes your toes curl and fingers pull at his little kitten tuffs. logan's mouth moves south to your chest. one nipple in his mouth then the other until both are swollen and kiss bitten. vibrations pour from his mouth as he groans at the tight squeezing of your cunt around his girth.

"ah-ah." he tsks, hand coming up to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together gently. "what did i say 'bout staying still?"

"s-sorry, lo.." you whimper voice muffled by your squished pouty lips.

despite having incredible stamina, logan was ready to release just from looking at your pretty face. he never been this close to cumming so soon but feeling you tense around him and wiggle in his lap made his head spin. all of this movement from only his thumb drawing circles.

"christ..." he grunts in your ear, moving faster now and with more pressure. "you're tryin' a kill me, sweetheart."

all logan gets in response is incoherent babbles of 'don't stop' and 'please, please, please'. he knows you are close when you claw at his back and start to bounce on him little by little, just enough to make you see stars. it all feels too much yet not enough at the same time. logan's circles start to get sloppy as he approaches his high too.

"l-logan!" you squeal, heavy eyes trying to focus on his face. "wanna feel you..."

in a rush, logan picks up the pace, torturing your button with his thumb. a loud moan falls from your lips, trying to wiggle out of logan's grip as your orgasm washes over you with intense euphoria. logan growls in your neck from your tight fucking grip on his cock, pumping his load inside of your walls. some of it spilling out of you and drenching the sheets.

the two of you catch your breath in silence for a moment. your nails scratch his scalp softly while logan pulls you down to kiss him. after a second, you move back, smiling down at him in a way that makes him harden again.

"thought you were gonna show me how to ride?" you tease.

logan shoots you a cocky eyebrow raise before leaning back again, one hand on your hip and the other returning to his cigar on the night stand.

"alright, baby..." he chuckles, re-lighting the cigar and paying little attention to the roll of your hips. "let me see what you got."