#I am now intimately aware of this fact

[slav-every-day]

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After a dangerous mission where you almost die, Optimus breaks up with you without knowing you are carrying his sparkling. It's not until seven months later that the universe allows you both to meet once again.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

5K

Counting Stars

...

He almost lost you. 

And yet he had to act like he didn't care.

It was to everyone's surprise when he announced that you will no longer be living at the base. It was simple. Due to inner conflicts, you won't be a part of Team Prime any longer. 

No one believed it until you came to pick up your things and said your last goodbyes. 

Optimus was nowhere to be found. 

And no one dared to ask him why.

Only Optimus knows the reason. 

He was well aware of his limits. Knowing that the moment he sees you, he would break down. Throw away his pride and ask you to stay forever with him. That he was a complete idiot to believe he could live a single day without you.

What an idiot he indeed is. 

It's been a week and he can't do it. Primus, give him strength. He sees you everywhere. He smells you in the flowers, feels your touch in the wind, hears your voice in nature and sees you in the stars. How much he misses to taste your lips once more.

"One more day and I think you will go offline, old friend."

Out of embarrassment, Optimus tries to close the windows in the data-pad screen, he was too focused on looking at pictures of you to notice Ratchet walking close to him. 

“What, um-”  He keeps closing tabs, each one having a different picture of you. From different angles and expressions. Blurry and not. “What are you referring to, old friend?”

Ratchet doesn't know how to react to this. He has always been aware of Optimus' massive love for you. Of course he knew. Even more now that the bearer of the Matrix can’t seem to function properly without your presence. 

Optimus keeps closing taps and Ratchet gets a glimpse of Orion Pax. Trying his best to hide the fact that he messed up. 

From innocent pictures, more intimate ones appeared.

“Would you please close your optics?” There is some panic and concern in his voice. But also an authoritative tone to it.  “I do not wish for you to see her the way I used to.”

Ratchet just turns around, giving Optimus enough privacy to conclude his activity. 

“I had just wanted to check up on your well-being due to recent events. But I am afraid that you are in a worse state than I thought possible.”

He hears more clicking and typing before hearing a heavy ex-vent coming from the Autobot leader.

“You can turn around now.”

“Optimus, you can’t continue like this,” the robot medic takes a look at the screen again. It’s empty but the blue blush on Optimus’ face is still evident.  “It’s only been a week. But have you truthly imagined what your life will be after living an eternity without (y/n)?”

Of course he doesn’t think about it. He might be an idiot but not entirely stupid. If he spirals and thinks too much about it he’ll probably lose all sense of responsibility and sanity. He can’t think about no longer being able to see the stars in your eyes. Of not longer hearing the sweetness of your voice or caressing the softness of your skin–

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” Optimus quickly stops thinking.  “My fate is sealed and so is hers. Our paths shall never meet again.”

Knowing Optimus for such a long time, Ratchet knows when he is lying. Even he should be aware of how full of scrap that lie is. Still, he wishes to push it further and see for how long Optimus will keep it up.

“If you truthly think that way then delete all of those frames and we shall never speak of her again.”

Their optics met for a few seconds and the gentle look in Optimus’ optics let Ratchet know everything he needed. However, he wanted his friend to be the one to realize it. Some things have to be lived and pain is the best teacher. 

“I … I-”

Looking back at the screen, there are no pictures of you. The thought of never seeing you again crosses his mind. He doesn’t have much to remember you by. You had taken all of your things. No longer can he phantom words to deny the truth. 

“Why are you putting yourself through all of this pain, old friend? When you and I are aware that you cannot pass a second without thinking of her?”

It was late night at the hangar and all other Autobots had gone to recharge. It was only the two of them and no one dared to ask Optimus about past occurrences that included you. 

“I told her … I wish I had never met her.”

Ratchet slowly opens his intake the moment the words slips Optimus’ glossa. 

“Even if my spark wishes nothing more but to see her again … I am afraid I have severed the relationship beyond repay.”

There is a pause in which Ratchet wanted to comfort his friend, to say some words of encouragement but he doesn’t know if it will be good enough.

“If only you had seen her face, Ratchet  … You would know. I have no right to ask for forgiveness.” 

You are the strongest person he knows. He has yet to see you shed a tear, no amount of injuries have made you do so. But that night, between discussions and arguments, he saw your eyes become crystal. The only thing he could do was to look away. He knew he would break as well if he ever became the reason for your suffering. 

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Seven months passed. 

Not a single word from you. 

Sometimes, however, Optimus would hear Fowler speak about you. A simple ‘She’s doing fine’ and ‘She has made new friends.’

But that was enough to make him wonder about you. Your new life, friends, if you had found anyone who was of your interest.

“We need the Autobot assistance in transporting a highly classified product across the state.”

He finds himself enjoying putting his life in danger. To take on difficult missions so his mind can be occupied. For those moments he is free from the thoughts of you. Any other second he is busy indulging in his torment from your parting. 

Apparently, MECH was extremely interested in this product and had plans to steal it from the CIA. It was the Autobots’ job to prevent that from happening. 

The bots surrounded a black bulletproof truck. They weren’t allowed to look at what was inside which did not please them. If they were to protect something, they wanted to know what it was. However, Optimus gave it a one time pass. After all, Fowler has proved himself to be a trusted ally. 

The first couple of miles went by easily. With no interruptions. 

It wasn’t until it started to go dark that trouble appeared. 

MECH had interjected the mission. Using every single gun, missile and bombs at their dispossession. Whatever that black truck was carrying, they wanted it no matter what. 

“At this rate we are going to lose the target!”

Arcee screamed through her comm-link as she tried her best to take down as many helicopters as possible without hurting any human in the process. Pretty much against her will but orders were orders. 

“These guys are really fighting it out!” Bulkhead was against a few tanks, he had stayed behind to keep them busy while the truck made an attempt to go out of sight. “Are we even sure this thing we are protecting is worth our lives?!”

Optimus was the one closest to the truck, keeping direct contact in case of a disaster. 

“Optimus! We won’t be able to keep them away for long!”

Bumblebee chirped in morse code and the Autobot leader knew he had to do something. 

He drives faster, facing the two officers that were driving the truck. Side to side, they look at the driverless vehicle. 

“Open the trunk and I’ll take the cargo. We won’t be able to hold them for long. I’ll take the cargo somewhere safe while you serve as a distraction. If we don’t do this, you’ll lose it all.”

The military officers look at each other for a small second. Giving a knowing look, they knew what they had to do. They open up the trunk and Optimus slows his driving, taking a look, finally, at what’s inside. 

The cargo is you. 

He quickly transforms back to his robot mode. Running towards you. He extended a sevo, he wanted you to jump. 

You were holding onto the walls of the truck as if your life depended on it. And it did. This was definitely not the encounter you were expecting after not seeing him for seven months. But now it wasn’t the moment to think about that. What happened between the two of you was over. But you still trusted Optimus Prime, the leader he has always been. 

“Quickly!”

You run towards him and jump as the trunk is in fast motion. Your feet land on his servo and in less than a second, he transforms back to his vehicle mode. Now you sat safely in the passenger seat. Optimus moves out of the road and drives off into the forest. Getting lost into the massiveness of nature and tall pine trees. 

No longer being able to hear chaos, Optimus assumed it was safe to talk. 

“Would you care to explain your status and the reasoning to why you are being transported by the American military?”

You weren’t fond of his voice, much less how this conversation started.

“Not even a ‘how are you’ first? You really haven’t changed at all, Prime.”

You say as you cross your arms in front of your chest. Looking outside the window, you wished you were being chased again by MECH. 

“Do not dare to call me by titles.”

There were times you called him by his last name. When you were angry and when the two of you were yet to form a relationship. He doesn’t like to reminisce about those times. 

“Just let me out. I’ll walk.”

“But–”

“I said … I’ll walk.”

Optimus stops and opens the door for you. You hop out of his vehicle mode and start walking without anywhere in mind. 

You put your hands in your oversize hoodie. The last thing you wanted was for him to take a deep look at you. Much less if he starts analyzing your body with stats. 

“I don’t think you know where you are supposed to be located,” he says as he transforms back to his regular robot mode. 

“I’ll figure it out.”

Optimus begins to panic as you start to walk away. This wasn’t how the reunion was supposed to be. He had dreamt of the next time he saw you. Maybe on a field of flowers and running towards each other. Ending it with an embrace and a passionate kiss. 

“Would you listen to reason for once?”

He tries again to engage but he only makes himself sound rude without having those intentions. 

“No.”

Would please look at him? It’s been seven months since he last saw you. He’s only seen your eyes through the pictures of his data-pad but they didn’t compare to seeing them in person–

“Why are you following me? I thought you didn’t care.”

You finally turn to look at him. 

He can’t control his processor at your sight. Your hair was a nice mess, you were wearing clothes too big for you, maybe to hide the few pounds you gained during this time. Your cheeks were pinker and plumber. Dark circles under your eyes but skin glowing and those beautiful eyes that could put any star in the universe to shame.

Optimus stumbles on his pedes and almost falls on his knees, your beauty too distracting for any living being to be witness of. 

“I .. I –”

He can’t believe you are talking to him. This was too soon and no words could leave his voice box as if had forgotten how to speak entirely. 

He wanted to say it all. How much he missed you, how desperately he needed you. How there hasn’t been a single day he didn’t think about you. How everything reminded him of you. And how painful has it been every second you are not with him.

But before he could rant about his undying love for you, he sees a painful expression on your face. Followed by you, placing your arms around your belly and bending as if the cause of your physical pain was located in your stomach.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“Just,” you take a moment to breathe as you slowly make your way towards a tree. “Just leave me alone.”

With sad and curious optics, he sees you put a hand on your stomach. Whispering comforting words. ‘It’s alright’ and ‘It’s ok’ you kept talking to yourself to make you believe those words. 

“We’ll be safe.”

“I am going to run a quick analysis–”

“No,” you interrupt him again. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

Optimus dislikes going against your wishes. But the way you are breathing heavily, your sweating and trembling doesn’t look like a good sign. He can manage to live without you if it guarantees that you can live a long happy life. But not the same can be said if your life is cut short for whatever reason. 

“My apologies but my mission is to keep you safe and that’s exactly what I tend to do.”

“I am pregnant,” you had no other choice. “Thankfully, you are not the father.”

That was a lie but at least the shock will prevent and confuse him enough. If Optimus were to do an analysis on your body, he would find anomalies only a Cybertronian would know. 

Finally getting the strength you need, you stand up and walk past Optimus whose face you did not dare to look. Your swollen belly still hurts but you didn’t want to worry him. The reason why you are not with him in the first place is because he thought of you as a liability. You no longer want to be seen as such. 

“Who’s the father of the child?”

The question infuriated you. Of all the things he could have asked, he asks such a selfish question. He shouldn’t care and certainly you are tired of Optimus pretending he does. 

“You know, on Earth, is customary to say ‘congratulations,” you turn to look at him. 

A fatal mistake. 

His optics reflected a grief unknown to you. The type you do not know nor wish to ever experience. Then there is a pain you recognize, that of a broken heart. You knew that feeling very well. He had been the one responsible for it after all. A part of you is happy to know that he is experiencing karma, that he is hopefully experiencing a fraction of the pain he made you go through.

But that wasn’t you. You didn’t want to inflect any type of suffering in him. Not now. Not ever.

“I am sorry.”

There wasn’t anything else you could say. You look down, disappointed at your own feelings.

“No. My apologies,” Optimus noticed your sudden change and he too feels unworthy to be of your presence. Having his ill feelings and jealousy overtake his processor instead of worrying about your well being. “I did not think it was possible for you to find a suitable partner with whom … to mate with … and so soon.”

“Well, humans do not live for long and we only have a few years until we are no longer able to ‘mate’”

You didn’t like using the word ‘mate’ . It made humans sound like animals but you used it so Optimus could be spoken to in terms he could understand. 

“But do you have … feelings for this individual?”

“Yes,” you lied again, trying to see what you can get away with.  “He is just and kind. Tall and handsome.” 

Optimus puts a servo on his hip and looks to the other side. Not looking at anything in particular rather he didn’t want to show his evident discomfort. 

“Yet it seems he is unable to do the most important duty … to protect you.”

“He is quite adequate, actually,” you tease him again. The Autobot leader might be a smart war tactician but is terrible at understanding hints.  “He is the strongest and fierce when needed.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that I have as well found someone else to keep my time occupied,” he stutters, unable to lie. “She’s strong, a good talker and a listener. Kind and has the most beautiful eyes in the entire universe.”

Now he was being too specific for your liking. What if he was telling the truth and he had indeed found someone else? You didn't know how not. After all, Optimus Prime was the most extraordinary being on Earth and probably in the entire universe. 

All of your doubts and insecurities began to fill your heart. You were just a human, easily replaceable. But Optimus? There’s only one of him. You were insignificant compared to him. It has always been this way. 

“Then I hope she is better than I ever was.”

You turn to keep walking into the woods with no destination whatsoever but you didn’t care. 

 “It seems we made the right choice to part ways.”

Optimus wouldn’t have it. He can’t phantom it and it’s probably selfish thinking. But he can’t understand how easily you can say that while there hasn’t been a single day he is not tormented by your absence. When every second of his life has been torture without you. 

“Is that really how you feel?” His voice is indignant. Every circuit in his processor, begged him to hold you. To tell you how much he craves you and how unfair has life been. Taking you away only when you have become the most beautiful of beings.  “After everything?”

“You have someone and I have someone,” you don’t turn around, putting a hand again on your stomach. Giving it a small rub and looking down at it.  “And I am with a child as you can see and very happy.”

“A child that should have been born from our bond. I should have been the father of that sparkling, I-”  

“You wished we had never met,” you whisper quietly but you know he can hear you. He always listened. “So please, stop talking like you care.”

“(Y/N)?” 

He looks at you and notices your distraught. Your breathing has become slower.

“Are you alright?”

You fall but before your body could touch the ground, Optimus catches you on his servo. He studies you for a second. You have pink cheeks and breathing seems difficult. He doesn’t hesitate to use his comm-link.

“Ratchet, I request an immediate groundbridge.” 

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“Vitals are stable but I’ll stay alert tonight to watch over her.”

Ratchet was glad to have you back at the base although he wished it was in different circumstances. After a couple of hours, everyone went back to their private quarters. The only ones left were the medic and the leader of the autobots. 

They watched over you as you slept soundly in the medical berth. Your vital signs displayed on the data-screen. Although everything seems fine, the two of them were known to overthink and worry.

“I waited for everyone to leave to tell you something of an extremely important matter.”

“What is it, old friend?”

“While doing some analyses in (Y/N)’s body, I distinguished an anomaly,” Ratchet clicks on keys and rapidly two sound frames appear. There are many lines, short and big, all close together. Together they create a different pattern from each other. 

 “(Y/N) appears to have two different heart beats. But, of course, that goes against human biology. So I did further testing.”

“I made a discovery. The second beat has a different frequency of that of a human heart,” the medic played the sound, Optimus recognized this as your heartbeat.  “But this other one has the same frequency and energy as a spark.”

“I do not understand.”

Trying to be tactful was hard for Ratchet as it is. He didn’t want to downplay the situation either. It was a serious matter but he has to admit that not even himself can’t contain his exhilaration. 

“Cybertron hasn’t had a single sparkling in centuries so coming to this conclusion took some time” 

The medic ex-vents, somehow it helped with his tension. He has been alive for quite some time and yet he can’t remember the last time he helped bring a new life to Cybertron. It was all the culmination of his studies and practices. Maybe finally he will have a chance to create life instead of just curing it. 

“After all, I had to look through some old archives and Human-Cybertronian hybrids is a first. But seeing that humans have the ability to create life and combining that with Cybertronian transmission genes … I believe I have a definite conclusion.” 

Ratchet presses a key, making the data-screen play a distinct sound. A sound similar to static but a distinct rhythm could be heard. Gentle and soft. Pure. 

“(Y/N) is carrying a sparkling.” 

“By the AllSpark,” Optimus blinks multiple times as he always does when he is excited or perplexed about something. He looks at you. Your small fragile body. “How?”

“How are humans able to create life with a soul, conscious mind and a body?” Ratchet doesn’t know how to explain it, because even he can't fully understand how. “Primus may have heard our prayers and has blessed us with an opportunity to welcome a new life to our race.”

“Agent Fowler must have known this and MECH as well. That’s why they were so precautious when transporting her from one place to the other.”

Optimus made a mental note to ask Fowler about this and his reasoning as to why he wasn’t informed of such an important matter.

“If MECH lay hands on (Y/N) they would experiment on her and the sparkling as soon as it’s  born,” Ratchet says as he walks towards you with a tender expression in his faceplace. “Half Human, half Cybertronian. This child will change everything.”

“Conceived from a son of Primus and a daughter of Unicron.”

The situation was out of legends and myths. The kind of thing that sounds impossible but maybe this little hope inside of you is what is needed to light up their darkest hour. 

“And this may also explain your sudden urge to nest,” the medic’s voice is more light-hearted now. Having flashbacks of Optimus picking up random flowers, pretty rocks and good-looking metal to bring back to the base. When questioned about it, the leader of the Autobots simply responded that he had an urge to do so. 

 “I thought you were going crazy when you started to bring earthly materials to the base.”

“I thought so too.”

Optimus sees you sleep. He has the need to touch your swollen belly, to feel the growing spark within you. You have always been amazing, he knew that much. But he never thought you were capable of conceiving life like their own. What a beautiful sight. One he never thought possible. Now, it’s right in front of him. Hope. The complete personification of it, staring right at him. 

“Will she be alright?”

“She’s stable but she definitely needs to be watched over. Her weakened state is due to the fact that the sparkling is taking too much of her energy,” Ratchet also has his optics on you. The happiest Optimus has ever seen. Knowing that there is hope for their race to continue to grow must be the first real sign of hope Ratchet has had since eons ago.

 “Energon is mostly toxic to humans but the sparkling has created anti-mechs for (y/n)’s immune system to withstand it.  We are going to have to start supplying her with energon if we wish for the sparkling to be born healthy.”

“And most importantly,” he takes a moment to look at his old friend. His optics now showed a more hostile gaze. “A sparkling needs the electromagnetic waves of a caregiver to copy growing behaviors.”

“She needs you, Optimus.”

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It was the middle of the night when you woke up. You feel thirsty but need more than water. Your body has had strange cravings lately but you were not about to randomly drink energon just because the baby wanted to. 

You knew this place too well. The smell of metal and bots was everywhere. The soft vans of the air conditioner are comforting. The orange light coming from Ratchet’s data screen illuminated the room enough for you not to be scared. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you missed this place. Even when you much preferred to be sleeping in the coach instead of the medical berth. 

“Do you need something?”

Optimus came back from behind you. You shake your body and back away a few centimeters. 

“My apologies, I did not want to scare you.”

He had mass-displaced. Still over 10 feet and really tall compared to any regular human. He tries to be delicate even when you know he is not fond of this form. Optimus had told you before that it was a bit uncomfortable for him. Of course, he never seemed to complain whenever he mass shifted to lay on your bed.

You look down and caress your stomach. It would be stupid to believe that Ratchet did not find out about your little secret and told Optimus about it. 

“It’s alright.”

Awkwardly, he sits next to you. You thought he might be furious with you. For lying to him in the first place. But now you feel ashamed for a reason you can’t understand. The mere fact of deceiving Optimus Prime is an unpleasant experience. 

“(Y/N) …”

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you,” you don’t look at him. Instead, you look down at your feet and how they hang from the medical berth.  “Don’t get angry at Fowler, please. I was the one who told him not to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you want to share such important information?”

“Because you said … You wished you had never met me,” you feel a knot forming on your throat. It hurts to speak, to even form thoughts and remember what happened seven months ago. His voice is still very present in your memories. The pain is still in your heart.  “So I thought, you wouldn’t want our child either.”

Clenching his servo into a fist, Optimus fights the urge to hold you. You were so close, yet the only thing he can indulge himself with is your scent. It's different now. It was your smell combined with a new aroma. That of his sparkling. 

“I have made many hard decisions in my life,” it was difficult for him to look at you. Now, he feels indignant to stand before you. You were to him what the gods were to their subjects. Devotion is not enough for him to satisfy his service to you. 

 “But the hardest decision was to let you go and I did it because I was scared. Even now, I doubt myself. Maybe you’ll be safer somewhere else. Away from me, away from all of this,”

Reminiscing about the past is painful to him. Most memories of you are lovely, unforgettable. But that time seven months ago when the Decepticons had captured you. The screams, the terror in your face, Megatron ordering you to tell him how scared you were. How he couldn’t do anything. Helpless. Pathetic. 

And for a small second. For a fraction he really believed he had lost you. That was enough for him to know he won’t function without you. 

 “If something were to happen to you … I won’t be able to … I can’t-”

He feels his entire core shake. His servos trembling as they remember holding your almost lifeless body.

“I am sorry,” his voice glitches. “I said unforgivable things with hopes that they would push you away. To protect you. I can live with you hating me but I cannot envision the day the universe takes your soul from me.” 

May Primus have mercy on his spark. May he forgive him but Optimus would throw everything away just to hold you. Just for his words to reach your heart. To feel your touch once again. 

“But I was a fool to believe I could stay away from you. To think that my restraint was as strong as my morals.” 

There is silence and although he doesn’t dare to look at you, he can feel your presence. For now it was enough to have you next to him. 

  “You may not believe in my words but believe this; the only good thing this fool has ever done is love you. It's the only thing … the only decision I have no doubts about.”

Suddenly, softness meets his faceplate. Immediately, his optics were on the blink of releasing energon. With a simple touch, you had healed him. A part of his spark that felt empty was full again. The meaning to his life was restored. 

“Do you even know how much I missed you?” 

You ask him with a gentle voice. Caressing every sense of his audials, engraving them in his processor. To forever remain in the deepest part of his mind. 

He can’t even begin to tell you what he truly feels. He had given up. Come to realize that no words, no language in the present, past nor future could ever be vast enough to express the love he has for you. 

Optimus could try with his actions. That may not be enough either. But he will have all of eternity to make for it. 

“Everyday after you left, I would go to the rooftop on the base and I would count each star in the sky,” he puts a servo on top of your hand and his dermas brush against your skin, a small kiss. “To try and relieve the nights I would count the stars in your eyes.”

You didn’t say anything. Whenever it came to talking, Optimus was always more proficient. You never felt the need to say something either, he always knew what you meant. What you were feeling. Words were not necessary. Not when he can read your eyes so easily. 

“And not even the timeless company of the entire universe could compare to one second with you.”

That night, you rested in his chassis. Missing your warmth, he embraced you. Your stomach pressed lightly against him. This experience was something new to him and he was terrified of it. Afraid he won’t be good enough to be a partner or a father. But as long as you were with him, the impossible became possible. So maybe becoming someone worthy of a sparkling could also be feasible. 

Optimus will try his very best. For you, for the sparkling. For himself. Failing it's not an option and being a father was a greater honor than being a Prime. A title he would give up if only you would ask him. Of course, you will never ask him such a thing. He knew you better than that. 

Optimus believes in Primus, fully. But he is thankful to whatever gods created you. If he could and knew how, he would pray and thank them. 

He now has another chance. Another opportunity. To give you what he has been collecting. 

Maybe tomorrow he will give you all the dandelions he found for you. 

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A/N: Sorry for the late Christmas post. Merry Christmas and Happy New Years I hope y’all enjoyed this. As always, for any questions, comments, concerns or prompt ideas you can send me an inbox. For all the love and support … Thank you! See you next year!

[livingsurreal]

More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer

My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post

That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U

Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.

Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.

Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.

Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.

Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it.  He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)

He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.

And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.

So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?

According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.

That tells us two things:

They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.

They failed, massively.

Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).

But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.

But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.

That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?

Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.

So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.

I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.

Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.

But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.

Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.

I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.

And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.

For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.

Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.

Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.

To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.

Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.

Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.

After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.

And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.

Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.

First of all – unexpected.

They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.

Second – companion.

That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.

The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.

He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.

Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.

If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.

The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”

And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.

(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)

Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.

Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.

Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”

And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?

“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.

If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.

Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).

A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.

Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.

Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.

Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.

It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.

Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.

Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.

“I can’t… At my…”

“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.

And again, he lashes out.

“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.

“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.

No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.

When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.

Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.

But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.

And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.

All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.

The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.

In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.

They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.

Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“

Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”

Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)

One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.

Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)

Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.

Rook did not know he is an early riser.

That leaves two possibilities:

They never had sex up until that point.

They did have sex, but never spent the night together.

Now what does that mean?

This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.

But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.

They never slept with each other

Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?

Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)

But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.

So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.

Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.

He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)

But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?

2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.

They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.

So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.

Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.

Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.

And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.

And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to  get them back? Those walls came crashing down.

His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.

So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.

He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.

A few (way to many) examples:

And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.

Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.

Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.

Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?

In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.

Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.

Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?

That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.

In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.

In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.

Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.

Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.

And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.  

Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.

“I love you.”

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.3. how was your first night together?

➴ warnings: nsfw, rough sex, oral sex (f. receiving), use of the word slut, bit of humiliation, dacryphilia, subspace kinda?, protected sex, nipple sucking, curse words, aftercare, cockwarming, dirty talk.

➴ word count: 2.2k

➴ author’s note: i have nothing to say for myself… also, this is the first straight smut I write in YEARS. so pls bear with me… also2, im highly aware that jack is probably a cutie pie during sex (and dw!! we’ll get there eventually) but something abt this jack… makes me dizzy. hope u all enjoy!!

—♡

LEAVING the party with this man— you still didn’t even know his name— was probably the best decision you had ever made, after auditioning for that one show that changed your life back when you were thirteen.

The pretty boy drove you to his actual house and rested his hand on your thigh the entire ride. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with the thought of letting a man, who you barely even knew, fuck you senseless.

Maybe Grace was right and you did have a little bit of a thing for humiliation.

Although nothing compared to when he opened the door of his huge house for you, and kissed you before he had even closed it properly. His kiss was bruising and angry, his hands gripping your waist with just the right amount of strength and you could swear you were melting in his arms.

“Fuck,” you moaned, sitting on his lap. “What’s your name?”

He laughed, eyes red and mouth swollen. “You don’t know who I am?”

“No?” You raised your eyebrow, smirking.

“I’m Jack Hughes.” He said, looking bothered by the fact that you didn’t know who he was.

“Hi, Jack Hughes,” you said, rocking your hips against his. “I’m Sophia.”

“Oh, I know who you are, baby,” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “That concert Nico went to? I was there too.”

Now that surprised you.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” He was the one smirking now. You rolled your eyes.

“Less yapping and more fucking. I’m starting to think you’re full of shit.”

You barely had time to finish breathing after your sentence before he grabbed you by your waist, and lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

He somehow managed to climb up the stairs while holding you and hell if that didn’t make you wetter. You could feel your panties sticky and glued to your intimate part, and honestly there wasn’t anything that you wanted more than to remove them.

He placed you in the bed, gentler than you’d expect him to, and you watched as he removed his suit, his toned abs making you clench around nothing. He pushed his somewhat long hair back before getting his hands on you again.

“Let’s get this monstrosity out of you,” he growled before almost ripping the jersey out of you. You laid on the bed now wearing just your bra and your mini-skirt. “Much better.”

You turned around, deciding that he deserved a show. Removing your bra, you actually moaned when you felt the cold air hit your hard nipples. You fought the need of touching them, and went straight to removing your skirt and panties, not letting yourself feel shy or embarrassed.

You felt Jack’s hands on you, turning you around and getting you on your knees. He looked at you like a predator and from just one look at his pants, you could tell that that man was packed.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do, baby,” he whispered, blue eyes staring down at you. “You’re gonna sit that sweet, needy cunt on my face, and I’m gonna eat you out until you’re coming. Then,” he stepped closer, not breaking eye contact. “I’m gonna fuck you fast and rough. That’s how I like it. And with that slutty face of yours,” he scoffed, eyes full of lust and desire. “I’m guessing that’s how you like it too.”

You bit your lips, nodding with your head, because you didn’t trust yourself enough to do anything besides moaning.

He removed the rest of his clothes and, yay, you were right, but also— fuck. You were right. His cock was big and thick and looked like it would reach your stomach and rearrange your organs.

Just how you liked it.

He laid on the bed and grabbed your hips, making you sit on his face, and when the tip of his tongue met your aching clit, you swear you saw stars.

You were holding yourself on the headboard, not wanting to hurt him. He looked like a great guy, and didn’t deserve to die because he suffocated during sex.

But it looked like he had other plans.

“I think I told you to sit your cunt on my face, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“Do as I fucking say.” Even though he said it, he was the one who grabbed your thighs and pulled you down, making your pussy cover his entire mouth.

Your moans were probably heard from across the street, but you didn’t care. It had been way too long since your last time and this? This was heaven. Jack was a fucking munch. The way he licked your clit and fucked his tongue inside you? Yeah, he knew what he was doing.

“J-Jack, fuck,” you heard yourself saying, eyes starting to feel wet and mind going all blank. “God, what the fuck.”

The wet noises could be heard whenever your moans came out softly, and his hands on your thighs only made it all better, because you knew it would bruise. You knew it would leave a mark there and it felt so good to know that this was the man marking you up.

You looked down by accident and you came right on the spot when you made eye contact with the man underneath you; it should have been embarrassing to look at him eating you out but it wasn’t anything like that. You felt owned and desired. You felt whole.

He removed his lips from your pussy, not before licking it a few times, and turned you around, him on top of you. He moved so he could grab the condom from the bedside table— fuckboy move, totally— and you watched as he put it on.

He kissed you one more time while he inserted himself on you, not really giving you the time to adjust. You felt your hole burning, and it felt good. You were so wet that the squelching sounds were almost embarrassing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was hitting you on the right spots.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he murmured, slamming into you with force. “Pussy so ‘fuckin tight for me. Holy shit.”

“Harder, p-please,” you heard yourself saying and you saw how his bright, blue eyes were changing into a dark, ocean color. You saw danger in them.

“You’re still speaking so I guess I’m not doing my job the right way, huh?” He said, taking almost all of his cock out just to slam it back into you with strength.

Your mind was going to a very strange place where you couldn’t really think straight and even though that should be scary, you felt nothing but… free.

The pleasure was so fucking good and your pussy had never felt so satisfied, as corny as it sounded. He had his lips on your right nipple, sucking and biting, his right hand rubbing your clit fast and precise, while his dick slammed into you with the right amount of pressure.

You could feel the tension building up inside of you and you knew you were going to come again, and soon, but when you tried to say something, warn him, it felt like you had grabbed a stick of glue and glued your mouth shut.

But it was too much, your legs were trembling and your eyes were wet, tears cascading down your face. You knew your face was red and probably slutty like Jack had said but it didn’t matter.

“Poor slut can’t even talk, mhm?” You heard Jack mock you, and fuck if it didn’t make you clench your hole around his dick. “You liked being called that, didn't you? Little slut. My brainless, stupid slut.”

His hand started to move faster on your clit and you tried to close your legs, out of pure instinct.

“None of that, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, still fucking you rough and hard. “Keep those pretty, little legs open for me. Isn’t that what you’re here for? Letting me, a guy who you barely know, fuck you senseless.”

You were fully crying now, holding onto him with so much force, secretly thankful that he was a Hockey player and probably used to all the roughness.

“I-I’m gonna,” you mumbled, not even thinking straight.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, sweetheart? Yeah? Gonna make a mess for me and wet my bed sheets even more?”

You felt yourself nodding, biting your lips when you felt yourself coming. Jack was still fucking you, searching for his own release. He lifted himself just enough to grab you by your waist and slam himself into you, over and over again.

Your tits went up and down and your eyes went to the back of your head.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up now, baby. C’mon, sweetheart, I’m gonna come, fuck.” Jack cursed, thrusting into you one last time, before coming inside the condom.

All you could hear were your sniffles and his breathing. Your legs were still shaking and your body felt the same way it did whenever you had a fever.

You could hear Jack moving, but you only acted when you felt himself removing his dick. “N-No. Please, stay. Just… for a bit?” You sounded fragile, almost insecure, and you hated it. It wasn’t anything like you, at all. You had guys and girls throwing themselves at you everyday— not that it mattered, you never took interest in any of them— so you shouldn’t act like a needy… slut.

But your fucked up brain couldn’t handle the thought of Jack leaving you. So, you did what you could. Begged.

You heard him chuckling and before your brain could tell you that he was laughing at your request, you felt him moving you both around and, without removing his cock from you, he managed to lay on the bed and let you on top of his, your head on the crock of his neck, your intimate parts still connected.

You sighed, content and full, feeling even better when he put the duvet on top of you both, making you snuggle even closer. He chuckled again.

“Feeling very cozy in there, right, sweetheart?” He mumbled, and you smiled, even if he couldn’t see. He smelled like sandalwood and something else, something that didn’t smell like a cologne or anything like that— just him.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, you probably snoozed after a minute or two, but you woke up startled, feeling empty because he had just removed himself from you. You whined.

“We need to clean you up, c’mon,” he said, rising from the bed and taking you with him. He didn’t seem to care that you were both naked and you looked like you had seen better days— your makeup was all smudged and your eyeliner was long gone. But you felt so freaking good. “I need you to pee. I’ll wait for you outside if you want.”

You looked at the man in front of you, who looked nothing like the cocky guy who hit on you not even three hours ago. He looked soft and gentle, and you were all here for it.

“That’d be great, thank you,” you said softly, and he kissed you on the forehead, before leaving and closing the door behind him. You looked at your reflection in the big ass mirror in front of you and sighed, smiling. You looked fucked but damn. You felt like you had just hit the jackpot.

And maybe you had.

You peed and cleaned yourself, trying to remove the remains of your makeup with wet paper. It didn’t do much, but it was better than going out there looking like Chucky’s bride.

You opened the bathroom door, feeling cold once again. Now that your body temperature was going back to normal, you felt cold walking around naked.

Jack was standing in the middle of the room, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else.

It should be illegal for someone to look this good after rearranging my organs.

“I picked some of my clothes for you. You won’t be sleeping in my bed with Nico’s ugly jersey,” he raised his brow, looking truly upset with Nico’s shirt.

You smiled. “It’s fine. I’m not going to spend the night. That is against the rules of a one night stand.”

It felt stupid to say shit like that, but it was true. Now that the sex drive was going away, you regained some of your senses and confidence and you knew that being a clingy bitch wouldn’t get you anything.

“I mean, I can sleep in my guest room if sleeping with me makes you uncomfortable, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go back to your house alone at one in the fucking morning.”

“I know how to take care of myself, Hughes,” you heard yourself saying and you wanted to slap yourself. Where did the attitude even come from anyway? “Besides, I’ll just get an Uber.”

“The fuck you will,” he laughed— he actually laughed. You couldn’t believe it. “Lay down. With how hard I fucked you, you should be like Aurora from Sleeping Beauty anytime now.”

You suppress a giggle, giving in. So easy. “You’re annoying as fuck.”

“Funny, you didn't say that when I was eating your pussy.” He shrugged and climbed on the right side of his bed.

Your face went all shades of red.

“Come on, Sophia. Think about your poor consequences tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes and climbed on his king sized bed. He wrapped his hands around your waist and you put your head in his chest, and listened to his heartbeat until you fell asleep.

He was right. You could manage the consequences tomorrow.

[puppym3]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ movie night

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

lee felix x fem!reader

requested by the lovely: @lixies-favorite-cookie

summary: you invited felix over for movie night. you've only been dating for a little while and you're the first person he's ever dated, so he's nervous being so close to you. (i hope i did it how you wanted;..)

wc: 4.3k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, established relationship, shy felix, subby felix, fluffy tooth-rotting sweetness, cuddling, clothed stimulation, felix cums in his pants (poor pants), fingering (f. rec), may be pt. 2 idk, (lmk if i missed any)

a/n: hehe i love writing for felix i wanna do it more often, thank u so much for giving me an opportunity to write for him! and i hope you like it!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Felix's heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness, unlike anything he had ever felt before. His heart fluttered with anticipation, and his palms glistened with a hint of nervousness as he lingered outside your apartment door.

Even though you and Felix had been seeing each other for a few weeks, tonight held a special significance. You had invited him over to watch a movie, and the idea of being so close to you in such an intimate setting had his stomach in knots.

With a soft exhale, he gently tapped on the door. The door swung open almost immediately, and there you were, smiling warmly.

"Hey, come in," you said, stepping aside to let him enter.

Felix returned your smile, albeit a bit shakily, and walked in. Your apartment was cozy and welcoming, a perfect reflection of your personality. He glanced around, taking in the soft lighting and the plush couch where you'd be spending the evening.

You observed his slight hesitation and gently took his hand, leading him to the living room. "I hope you like horror movies," you said playfully. "I picked one that I thought would be perfect for tonight."

Felix chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I do. I mean, I don't watch them often, but I'm sure it'll be fun."

You both settled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between you. As the movie started, Felix tried to focus on the screen, but his mind kept drifting to the fact that you were right next to him. The proximity made him hyper-aware of every movement, every touch. He could feel the warmth of your arm brushing against his, and it sent shivers down his spine.

You seemed to sense his discomfort and gave him a reassuring smile. "Relax, Lix," you said softly. "There's nothing to be nervous about; the jumpscares aren't that bad."

The affectionate nickname made his heart flutter, and he couldn't help but smile back.

Throughout the movie, Felix endeavored to remain composed, yet his nerves continued to flutter like delicate butterflies in his chest. Every time your eyes met, his face flushed. Every time your fingers brushed against his, he felt his pulse quicken. And every time you leaned closer to him, he was convinced that you could hear the frantic beating of his heart.

Halfway through the movie, you rested your head on his shoulder, and your hand wrapped around his arm. Felix froze, his eyes darting to you.

"Are you okay?" you whispered.

He nodded, his throat dry.

The movie ended, but Felix didn't even notice. His mind was too focused on you, and the way your touch made him feel. He loved the unfamiliar feeling. It was scary, but also exhilarating.

Your fingers slid down his arm to intertwine with his. You lifted your head from his shoulder and met his gaze. His eyes were wide, and his lips were parted slightly. You smiled at him, trying to ease his nerves.

"Lix," you said softly.

Felix's heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. "...yes?" he stammered.

"You're comfy."

Felix blinked, surprised. "I am?" he responded, his tone laced with innocence.

You nodded, scooting closer to him. Your bodies were touching now, and you could feel his muscles tensing. "Can we cuddle?" you asked.

Felix swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, but he was terrified. He'd never cuddled with anyone like this before, and the idea of doing so with you made him anxious.

"Sure," he swallowed before he managed to reply.

With a grin, you climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. His breath caught as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck, your lips dangerously close to his skin.

You could breathe in the smell of his cologne; it was so comforting. Everything about his presence comforted you.

"Is this okay?" you asked quietly, glancing up at him.

Felix nodded, unable to speak. He felt like he might pass out from the sensation of your body pressed against his.

Felix was a nervous, blushing mess. He didn't know what to do, his hands shaking as they hovered above your waist.

"Ah, Can I hold here... or?" He asked, a little too worried about where he should place his hands.

"Yes, yes, please," you giggled and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Like this?" he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

"Mm, yes." You smiled, burying your face into his neck.

You could feel the tension in his muscles slowly dissipating as you ran your hands up and down his back, your fingers lightly trailing over the soft fabric of his shirt.

You could feel Felix relax as he finally allowed himself to give in to the sensation. His breathing calmed, and his body melded against yours. He drew you closer, his arms enveloping your waist tightly as he settled into a deeper comfort.

Felix could feel the heat radiating from your body, and he wondered if you could feel the effect you were having on him. He hoped you couldn't.

You loved how gentle his hands were on you and how steady he tried to keep his breathing, you found it cute. He was treating you as if you were fragile. Felix could feel you snuggle against him more, and he loved the feeling of your warm body on his. His heart rate quickened, his hands growing sweaty as he yearned for more, yet his nerves held him back.

"Uhm," he said.

"Yeah?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Can... Can I kiss you.. can we kiss?" He asked hesitantly.

You nodded at him, leaning up to his face.

He gulped, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as his eyes darted from your lips to your eyes and back again.

You pressed your lips to his, and Felix instantly melted.

It was soft and gentle, but so full of passion and emotion. You could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest as you pressed yourself closer to him, deepening the kiss.

You pulled back after a moment, breathless.

Felix's eyes were wide when he looked back at you, his bottom lip shiny.

You gently swiped your thumb on his lip, wiping off the saliva.

"Sorry, was I too eager?" You asked.

"No, no," Felix stammered.

A light smile tugged at your lips as you cupped his cheeks and brought another light kiss to his lips.

Before the cuteness aggression caught up to you, you dipped your head and buried your face in his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him.

Feeling his arms wrap around you in return, you closed your eyes and savored the moment—the warmth of his body against yours, the gentle rise and fall of his chest under your touch, and the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with his natural aroma. "I've wanted to do this for so long," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Felix's grip tightened around you, and you felt his chest rise and fall with each breath.

"Me too," he murmured in response.

He placed a kiss on the top of your head, his arms still holding you close.

You felt him shift a little, and soon he was lying on the couch, with your weight resting comfortably on top of him.

His chest was rising and falling with his steady breaths, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling completely relaxed and at peace.

"Is this okay? Can I lay like this?" You asked, lifting your head up.

"Yeah," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's more than okay."

A warm smile graced your lips, a surge of affection swelling in your chest as you looked at him. His vulnerability made your heart swell, and you wanted to make him feel as comfortable and cherished as possible. You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving to his jawline.

Felix's breath hitched, and you could feel his body tense momentarily before relaxing into your touch. You continued to trail soft kisses along his jaw, each one eliciting a soft sigh from him. His reactions were endearing, and you couldn't help but giggle softly against his skin.

Your lips found their way to his neck, where you placed a series of tiny, feather-light kisses. Felix's hands tightened on your waist, and you felt his pulse quicken beneath your lips.

You wanted to stop, but his reactions encouraged you to keep going further.

As you continued down his neck, you noticed that his breathing had become more ragged, and his hands were trembling ever so slightly.

"Are you okay, Lix?" You asked softly, pulling back to look at him.

Felix nodded, his eyes glassy. "I'm fine; don't stop," he whispered.

You smiled, returning to the task at hand. You trailed your lips along the column of his neck, pausing every so often to leave a tender kiss or to gently suck on his skin.

Felix let out a low moan, his eyes fluttering closed.

You grinned, continuing your ministrations. You could feel him getting more and more aroused beneath you, and the feeling of his growing erection against your thigh made your legs go weak.

You reached the base of his neck, and you slowly worked your way back up, trailing kisses along his jaw.

Felix tilted his head back, giving you better access. His eyes were still closed, and his breathing was heavy. You couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked at that moment, and the sight of him made your heart skip a beat.

As you reached his Adam's apple, you placed a tiny kiss there, he opened his eyes, and you saw the unmistakable desire there.

Your lips met his in a heated kiss, and Felix hesitantly responded, his lips parting slightly to allow your tongue to slip inside.

He tasted sweet, and his lips were soft against yours. You ran your tongue along his lower lip, and he gasped, his eyes widening.

You took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, exploring his mouth with your tongue. Felix's hands gripped your waist, his unsure movements revealing his nervousness. You could sense his hesitation, and you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable or pressured.

Breaking the kiss, you pulled back slightly, taking a moment to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. You gazed into his eyes, seeing the uncertainty mirrored there, and felt a wave of affection for him.

"I'm sorry, Lix," you said softly, placing a small, reassuring kiss on his nose.

Felix blinked, his voice a little shaky as he asked, "Why?"

You brushed a strand of hair from his forehead; your touch was gentle. "I don't want to rush you," you explained, your tone full of understanding and care. "I can tell you're nervous, and that's okay. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. We can take our time."

Felix's heart swelled with gratitude for your consideration. He knew he was ready, yet the words seemed to stick in his throat, too embarrassed to voice them. He wanted nothing more than to share this closeness with you, but his nerves were holding him back.

He felt frustrated, not knowing how to convey his desires. He wanted to tell you, but the thought of saying it out loud was overwhelming. He felt safe with you, but this was all new to him. He'd never experienced anything like this before.

You watched as a myriad of emotions crossed his face, his thoughts clearly evident in his eyes. You could see the struggle he was facing and you could feel the tension radiating from him.

"Ah, I forgot about this." You said, your thigh slightly shifting on his bulge.

Felix bit on his lip as a low sound came from his chest.

"If you're not ready for the other stuff, how about this?" You asked, your eyes searching his as your thigh moved upward, rubbing against him slightly.

He inhaled sharply, his hands gripping your hips.

"Yes," he breathed, his voice strained.

"You're okay with this?" You asked, wanting to be absolutely sure.

He nodded, his breaths coming out shallow. "Yes, please," he pleaded, his voice low, hitting your ear like a sweet melody.

You sensed the firmness of his hold on your hips increase, his hands trembling with a mix of eagerness and restraint. His erection was pressed against your thigh, and you could feel his desire through the thin fabric of his pants.

"Okay," you whispered, leaning forward to capture his lips in a tender kiss.

Felix immediately reciprocated, his arms encircling your waist as his tongue explored your mouth.

You felt the hard length of his arousal pressing against you, and you subtly moved your hips, generating tantalizing friction between your bodies.

He was growing bolder, his tongue tangling with yours.

Overwhelmed by desire, you eagerly pressed your hips against his, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you.

He gasped, his head falling back as his eyes fluttered shut.

Taking the opportunity, you attacked his exposed neck. Nipping and sucking on the delicate skin, you elicited a series of soft moans and whimpers from him.

You trailed kisses along his collarbone, your hands roaming over his chest.

Felix squirmed beneath you, his body responding to your touch.

His hands fisted in your hair gently, and you could feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

Your lips met his again in a searing kiss, your tongues dancing together as you both became lost in the moment.

Felix moaned, his hips bucking involuntarily.

A gasp escaped your lips, pleasure shooting through you at the intimate contact.

You trailed kisses along his jawline, relishing the feel of his soft skin beneath your lips.

You didn't know if you were going to be able to hold yourself back when he was under you like this.

Felix’s breath came in quick, shallow gasps as you continued to kiss him, each touch and caress making him tremble with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. His hands were tangled in your hair, gripping it gently as though afraid of making any sudden movements that might disrupt the delicate balance of this newfound intimacy.

As you trailed kisses along his jawline, you could feel his body reacting to every touch. His movements were a bit hesitant, his inexperience evident in the way he shifted under you. He was eager but unsure, his responses a blend of instinct and nervousness. When you ground your hips against his again, Felix’s gasp was louder, his entire body tensing as if he were trying to control the sensations overwhelming him.

You could feel his growing erection twitching against your leg, his desire palpable despite the layers of fabric between you. Felix whimpered, his face flushed, as he tried to resist the urge to grind against you.

Your lips moved from his jaw to his neck, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin. Felix moaned, his head falling back as his grip on your hair tightened. He was completely intoxicated by the feeling of your lips on his skin; the pleasure almost overwhelmed him.

You continued to explore his neck with your mouth, eliciting a series of delicious sounds from him. Felix was a whimpering mess, his hips moving against yours as he struggled to contain his mounting arousal, his hands gripping your hips with a mix of urgency and restraint, his breath hitching with each movement.

As you kissed and nipped at the delicate skin of his neck, your hands roamed his body, trailing over the hard planes of his chest and stomach. Felix trembled under your touch, his breathing erratic.

You could feel his erection straining against the confines of his pants. You ground your hips against his, feeling a thrill of excitement as he moaned.

You wanted to hear him cry out your name.

You wanted him to lose himself in the pleasure you were giving him.

Your hand slid down, spreading fingers across his clothed bulge, giving him a slight squeeze.

Felix’s reaction was immediate and intense. His body arched slightly into your touch, a mix of pleasure and uncertainty etched across his face. You could feel him trembling beneath you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to keep control. His grip on your hair tightened, and he let out a low, involuntary groan as your hand continued to explore the contours of his bulge through his pants.

You felt his erection pulse against your fingers, and his moans grew louder, more desperate, filled with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure as if he were on the verge of losing himself completely.

Your thumb brushed against the sensitive tip, and you observed a glistening bead of precum marking his pants.

Your core clenched as he softly moaned your name while your hand caressed him tenderly. His eyes fluttered close, his breath coming in short gasps. You knew he was close, and you couldn't resist the urge to tease him a bit.

"Are you gonna come for me, Lixie?" You purred, your voice filled with sweetness.

Felix whimpered, his hips thrusting against your hand. He was so close; the pressure and friction of your hand against his erection was almost too much for him to bear.

His body tensed, a low groan escaping his lips as he finally reached his peak. You maintained your gentle strokes as he reached his peak, sensing the rhythmic throbbing of his release under your fingertips. As he came down from his high, you could feel how wet he had made you just from his reactions.

Felix's breaths were coming in quick, ragged gasps, his cheeks flushed, his eyes hazy and unfocused. He looked completely wrecked, and you loved it.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, enjoying the way his body relaxed beneath you.

"Was that okay?" You asked, stroking his cheek affectionately.

Felix sighed contentedly, his expression a mix of bliss and embarrassment.

He nodded, breathless and still a little dazed.

Although you should just stop here and take things slow, the burning heat you felt in between your legs was driving you crazy.

You pressed your thighs together, relishing the slick, heated sensation between them, a physical manifestation of your arousal.

You slid off of him, sitting up on the other side of the couch. When you moved, his eyes followed.

Felix watched, his confused expression as you slowly slid your pants off, revealing your bare skin.

His eyes widened in surprise and desire as they fell upon the glistening wetness adorning your inner thighs, his breath catching in his throat at the sight.

You smiled shyly, cheeks flushing with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, meeting his gaze. "This is what you do to me," you said softly.

He gulped, his gaze flickering downwards.

You reclined, parting your legs slightly and guiding a hand between them, inviting him to witness your touch.

"I... did that?" Felix asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, you did this," you breathed, your eyes locked on his.

You watched as his cheeks flushed pink, his breath hitching in his throat.

"I'm going to show you how to touch me for next time, okay?" You said, spreading yourself out for him.

You ran your finger through your wet folds, circling your sensitive clit. You couldn't contain a soft moan, the heat between your legs intensifying as you felt the weight of his gaze upon you, fueling your desire.

"Watch closely, okay?" you breathed.

You circled your clit a few times, feeling yourself grow wetter under his gaze. Felix was mesmerized by the sight before him.

"Start slow," you instructed, dipping a finger into your wet heat.

Felix gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Like this," you said, slowly moving your finger in and out.

A low, guttural moan escaped your lips as waves of pleasure began to surge within you, igniting every nerve ending in your body.

You added another finger, moving them at a faster pace, and then you curled your fingers.

"Lixie," you let out a soft, throaty purr, sensing the first tendrils of an impending climax unfurling within you.

His eyes were fixed on you with an unwavering intensity, a mix of fascination and desire evident in his gaze, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.

"Come closer, Lix." You whispered, your voice laced with longing, beckoning him into your space.

Felix inched forward tentatively, his wide eyes betraying a mix of curiosity and arousal, his cheeks flushed.

"Touch me," you whispered, a pleading edge to your voice.

Felix hesitantly extended his hand, the tips of his fingers barely brushing the silky skin of your inner thigh, sending a shiver of anticipation through your body.

The gentle contact of his fingertips sent a shiver cascading through your entire body, a trail of heat following his touch, and a response of desire, causing your core to tighten in anticipation.

He continued to cautiously explore your body as your fingers continued to work inside of you, the sensation of his touch heightened by the knowledge that he was watching your every movement.

You let out a soft, throaty whimper as the pad of his finger brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. When you looked up at him, he was scanning your face, taking note of every single reaction that his touch gave you.

He seemed to be committing each and every detail to memory, carefully cataloging the things that made your body respond to him.

With a small nod of encouragement, Felix began to explore a little further, his hands beginning to trail up your shirt, his movements a little more confident now that he was sure that he wasn't displeasing you.

His touches were featherlight and tender, as though he was afraid to break you, but also curious to discover all the secrets that your body held, each one a gift that he was being entrusted with.

His eyes were locked on yours, watching the subtle changes in your expression, noting every small shift of your body and each tiny movement of your limbs.

The way he was watching you was almost as pleasurable as the feel of his fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin of your stomach and the gentle press of his palms against your bra.

Felix was attentive and inquisitive, his touches showing his gentle curiosity.

He noticed the slight change in your breathing and the way your fingers were moving faster, the angle of your hand unchanging, hitting the same spot repeatedly.

Your body was starting to tremble slightly, the muscles of your legs quivering, and your toes curling.

He could tell you were getting close, and his eyes scanned your body, wanting to watch you come undone.

You were so close, but you needed something more.

You reached for his hand, bringing it down between your legs and placing it on top of yours.

Felix panicked for a second, his eyes widening, when he felt the wetness of your arousal coating his fingertips, his cock once again straining painfully in his pants.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice hoarse, "help me."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he nodded.

Following your lead, he slowly added his fingers in, gently sliding them in and out, matching the pace of your own.

You gasped, arching into his touch.

It was a completely different feeling, having his fingers inside you, stretching you, and filling you in ways that your own couldn't.

"Felix..." you whimpered, his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

The combination of his breath on your skin and his fingers inside you was enough to send you over the edge.

You let out a soft, strangled cry, your body arching into his touch as you came, your inner walls clenching around his fingers.

He held you as you came down from your high; when he slowly pulled his fingers out and looked at the slick on his fingers, his eyes widened as if he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.

"Wow... A..are you okay?" He breathed, his voice awestruck.

"Mhm," you mumbled, leaning forward and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. "You did good."

Felix blushed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

He was proud of himself, and it was adorable.

You kissed him again, the tenderness of the moment causing your heart to swell.

When you both cleaned up and you found Felix a new pair of pants, you settled back onto the couch, snuggled in each other's arms.

You laid comfortably on him, feeling the heaviness in your eyelids as the gentle tug of sleep beckoned, your senses drifting into a peaceful haze.

He tenderly stroked your hair, a soothing sensation washing over you, wrapping you in a cocoon of tranquility.

As he traced lazy circles on your back, you listened to the steady rhythm of his heart beating.

"Lixie?" You asked softly, nuzzling his neck.

"Hm?" He replied, his voice sleepy and relaxed.

"Can we sleep like this?"

"Of course," he murmured, his words laced with affection. "I wasn't going to let you go anyway."

A laugh slipped out of you; you could tell he'd gained a ton of confidence from earlier.

"Goodnight," you whispered.

"Night." He said, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You snuggled into him, relishing the warmth of his body.

His steady heartbeat played a melodic rhythm that serenaded you into a peaceful slumber, a symphony of comfort in the night.

Your last thoughts before drifting off were of how much you wanted to marry this man in the future.

And then you were lost in a sea of dreams, the steady beat of his heart a soothing lullaby.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[see-arcane]

Something I’ve been chewing on for this go-around of Dracula Season is the fact that, for all that I am absolutely 110% on board with the whole ‘Dracula wants Jonathan for himself, calls dibs, wants first taste, wants to keep him as part of the castle permanently, I too can love~ et cetera’ deal, I can admit now that I’ve been overlooking one very key part of the whole Bluebeard wifery setup.

And that’s the unavoidable fact that Dracula fully intends to leave Jonathan Harker to be drunk and collected by the Weird Sisters.

Now there’s all manner of guesswork to make about what exactly these three’s relationship to Dracula really is. A personal harem is usually the go-to, and what I usually land on as explanation, considering how things will play out in the future regarding his usual choice of vampiric victim. But others have suggested familial connections, going by Jonathan noting a couple similar traits between the two brunettes, ala facial features, hair, the same red eyes and so on, leaving Blondie as a potential wife the Count turned along with their daughters. Or hell, maybe they’re all actual sisters. We never get to know.

All we know is that they accuse Dracula of ‘Never loving,’ while Dracula stares meaningfully at Jonathan, insisting otherwise. And claims that the trio themselves know it is so from the past. Whatever past that is.

To that end, the Weird Sisters matter to Dracula. Enough to keep them fed, enough to not even put up a full villain monologue at them when they go against his orders to try and snatch Jonathan out from under him, followed by laughing in his face. Beyond his far-too-intimate interactions and abuses with Jonathan, this is the closest we get to seeing Dracula trying to be close with and/or properly*** interacting with someone. An exchange that ends not only with handing over the poor stolen baby in the sack, but outright promising Jonathan to the Sisters once Dracula is finished with him.

And that’s sticking with me this year. Because for all that I’ve joked and memed about it in the past, it never really whacked me over the head with the import and terror that comes with Jonathan’s opening line in this entry.

God preserve my sanity, for to this I am reduced.

Reduced. That’s the key word here.

Even if he doesn’t know all the rules, he knows now that he is no longer just a temporary prisoner. Not even a mere murder victim waiting out the clock. No. He has been reduced to a living decanter. A possession there to be nursed from and used and given as a gift from Dracula to his companions. Like a toy or a new pet.

At the risk of slight spoilers (avert your eyes first-time Dracula Dailiers!), two important lines are yet to come during Jonathan’s stay in Vampire Hell. One from Dracula:

But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula.

(Yes, he does think he’s very funny. Prick.)

And another from Jonathan:

At its foot a man may sleep—as a man.

Two vital beats.

The first, because it is a winking confirmation to all that Jonathan has feared. Namely, that Dracula and the Weird Sisters mean to never let him leave the castle again, alive, dead, or otherwise.

The second, because it shows that for all Jonathan is not aware of, he does rightly suspect that there is more expected of him than being a mere meal to have and discard. He knows he is not due for a fleeting pain and escape, even via death. Because Dracula wants to ‘love’ him. To keep him.

And Dracula will do so because he keeps the Weird Sisters, and they will keep him. A parting gift from their loving lord of the castle. The conqueror’s playbook in miniature.

I turned you. You turn him. I have you all.

This, buried under the veneer of:

See girls? I care! Here, a fine new plaything to keep you company. Housebroken already.

(To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced.)

There’s time right now. However much time Jonathan can win by playing a good guest. But if he doesn’t get out by the time Dracula is done with him? He lives the rest of his human life as a wine bottle and then all of eternity after that as joint undead property.

Better hope your acting skills are up to the task, Mr. Harker.

[mariasont]

maria omfg just read be so stupid and the part where u said about listen to spencers heartbeat and i am crazy for this type of intimacy 😫 can u make something with pre relationship spencer feeling his heartbeat i dont know their hearts syncing. really anything with that intimacy!!!! im in love with your writing keep posting cz im eating all up 💝💓💞🩷 kisses

Thump, Thump - S.R.

a/n: hi sug!!!!!!! love love love your beautiful mind!!! pre relationship where there is so much feelings and pining UGH! love! thank you sm for requesting <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: pre relationship cuties, pining, all the things!

wc: 1.1k

It was so quiet even the sound of a pin dropping might be deafening. In fact, it was so quiet that it felt as though Spencer could've read your mind if he tried hard enough. If he could read you mind, he would unfortunately be privy to your annoying inner monologue screaming:

"How could I be so stupid? I've managed to trap us in a tiny, cramped closet that's barely 9 square feet. How on earth did this even happen?"

Or something along those lines.

You had been investigating a crime scene, and somehow, you both ended up crammed into this confined space—so close that you could feel his surprisingly soft, springy hair, which had grown to shoulder length, brushing against your forehead. The closeness was almost suffocating, and you could hear his breathing, which only heightened your awareness of your predicament.

You find yourself in an incredibly awkward position, pressed against his chest, with your arms pinned at your sides as if you're afraid to make a move. Any lower and you risk an EEO report, but any higher and you'll be holding on to his chest, which somehow felt even more intimate.

"Do you think they're close?" you whispered, not knowing why you felt the need to lower your voice.

It almost seemed rude to speak at a normal volume, as if it would be too intrusive. After all, you'd practically be yelling right in his ear.

"Well, we called them 8 minutes ago," Spencer said, his voice vibrating from his chest to yours. "If they took the normal route, they should be here in approximately 3 minutes and 45 seconds.  The average response time for our team in this area is about 12 minutes, but given the urgency, they might be a bit slower."

His hand moved to rest on your hip, and your body immediately went rigid. A jolt of electricity shot from your toes to your spine.

He sensed the tenseness in you because, well, of course he did. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you breathed out, straining your eyes in the darkness to discern the details of his face. "Just a little claustrophobic."

That was only half true. It was more that you felt claustrophobic because you had no desire to be this close to the colleague you had been harboring an infatuation with for what felt like forever. He was intoxicating--everything about him. Especially now that you could feel his muscles flex beneath his shirt and breathe in the blend of old books and clean linen that seemed to define him.

Spencer nodded at your words, the movement of his head causing his entire body to shift. This brought him even closer, his arm instinctively wrapping around your back.

"Sorry, my arm was falling asleep," he justified, voice soft. You didn't argue, sparks detonating from the point of contact, your whole body aflame. "You know, sometimes applying gentle pressure can help reduce feelings of claustrophobia. It might seem counterintuitive, but it works."

"Well, I don't think we can get much closer than this," you chuckled nervously.

Spencer, without missing a beat, placed his hand gently around your neck and drew you into his chest. You didn't resist, didn't put up a fight. Your heart pounded, and with your ear now pressed against his body, you could heart his heart. The steady thumps were so clear, you could almost hear the blood coursing through its veins.

You softened into his touch, your hands moving slowly to wrap around his neck, unable to draw away from the continuous pulsing of his central organ. You were sick in the head, that was for sure, but the rest of your body didn't seem to care about your head's woes; it was all too keen to liquefy into his body.

You could likely die here—if the team never got here, and this is how you were to go—locked in a child's closet with the man of your dreams; you thought you might be okay with that.

But fate had different plans, which might have been a good thing; you might have been thinking a little rashly. You blamed it on the lack of oxygen flow. Spencer would tell you that the limited airflow in such small spaces means we're breathing in more carbon dioxide than usual, which can affect cognitive functions and make us feel dizzy and disoriented.

Dizzy and disoriented. Check and check. Now, whether that was due to the lack of airflow was a different story.

Without warning, Spencer's hand moved from your hip to your neck, settling between the nook where your jaw meets your throat. You froze in the spot, lips parted slightly as you watched his mouth move. Was he counting?

You realized he was when he let out a disappointed huff. His hand didn't move from your neck.

"Your heart rate is still pretty high," he observed. "Maybe we should try something else—"

"No, no, it's okay. I think it's working."

You didn't want to lose this closeness, and you weren't too eager for him to find out your heart rate was spiked by something other than the small space you were restricted to.

He hummed in response. You weren't sure if he believed you or not, but he dragged his hand back to your hip.

Thump, thump, thump.

You thought maybe you should tell him how you feel, that perhaps now was a better time than any—that the way your body froze around him was anything but friendly and that the feeling in your—

"Well, it looks like you two managed to stay calm."

Your head snapped up to see the team standing there, gaping at you like you were a couple of zoo animals. If they had given you 5 to 10 more minutes alone, you might have been.

You jumped away immediately, face burning as you raked a hand through your hair, glaring holes into Morgan's skull. On the other hand, Spencer looked slightly smug, a small smile tugging at his perfect lips.

"We were just... waiting," you protested, ignoring the look of disbelief from your unit chief.

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, whatever you say, hot stuff."

As you stepped out of the closet, your eyes lingered back to Spencer, your heart still racing. Your eyes met, and the world seemed to freeze for a moment. Maybe you'd tell him how you felt the next time.

"So, pretty boy, you think you'd be that snug with me if we were the ones trapped in there?"

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[kisseobie]

Can you rank P1harmony on who is most likely to get pussy drunk and why 👀👀

who in p1harmony is most likely to be pussy drunk

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw obvi (mdni)

a/n: well yes! this is in mtl, so most to least! (although i can see all of piwon as munches that all get pussy drunk tbh..)

༘⋆₊˚ jongseob

might be a controversial take and might be spurred on by a seob work i am currently drafting out but.. fuck it i’m putting jongseob as the most likely to be pussy drunk! i’m just sooo fixated on the idea of him never experiencing anything before meeting you, and just becoming obsessed when his fingers, lips, and cock all make contact with your cunt for the first time.. so eager to please, and the fact that he’s able to draw out waves from you is enough for him to feel pleasure as well. definitely a service dom that can spend hours analyzing each reaction he can pull from you.. when he’s particularly stressed out in the midst of comeback preparations he’s spending his nights lapping at your pussy until all the worrying thoughts dissipate from his pretty head :3

༘⋆₊˚ intak

just a loser puppy bf obsessed with his girlfriend and her glistening cunt :(( he’s sooo desperate 24/7, is always pulling you away from whatever or whoever you’re currently occupied with, just so he can worship you and your pussy. he’s the typa bf to rut his hips against the bed whilst eating you out, eagerness evident in the way he groans into your cunny .. he’s def begging you afterwards to let him stuff you with his dick .. pleading with big eyes and nasty words like “just the tip? please angel, wanna feel you around me” and you’d never admit it to him, but his never-satiated desire to worship your pretty pussy drives you absolutely crazy :( please please rut your hips onto his face and pull his hair when he’s eating you out.. he deserves it!!

༘⋆₊˚ jiung

another hot take but i think a serious little nerdy introvert like ji would have a crazyyyyy sex drive; and an even crazier need to constantly be inside of you. once the pair of you have sex for the first time, it literally alters jiung’s brain chemistry. he’s particularly obsessed with overstimulating you just to witness the familiar frothy white ring of his and your cum placed around his dick every time he lifts your pelvis up and pulls in and out.. literally takes pictures of your pussy like it’s the finest piece of art he’ll ever see, tucking said photos into a locked folder on his phone that he visits quite frequently. is not as vocal about just how pussy drunk he gets, but his actions and stares make it obvious :DD

༘⋆₊˚ theo

now now.. i know people are gonna say yangie should be higher on the list, but personally, i think theo—whilst very much obsessed with eating you out—would get more drunk off of receiving pillow princess treatment? i know most people write him as a service dom but this man is lowkey the brattiest sub to exist in my eyes lol. can see him being greedy as hell. being fourth on this list and leaning submissive doesn’t mean he’s never pussy drunk tho! but i do think it’s less of a trait during sex, and more of a feeling he gets when he’s needy and missing you. i can see taeyang sniffing your unwashed panties and getting off to that like a little perv hehe

༘⋆₊˚ soul

now this was a bit difficult.. and shota is an enigma so it took me awhile to properly place him where he belongs. kind of like theo, i feel like he isn’t really the type to get pussy drunk during sex or foreplay or anything like that. instead, i think he’s just more obsessed with your other body parts and processes, like the way your tits bounce when he’s rutting into your heat, how you clench around his cock when he’s more vocal with you, how your moans eventually morph into little broken gasps. i think my main impression of being pussy drunk is being so obsessed, dazed, and brainless, but i just think soul would be a lot more aware when intimate, and not so easily lost in the sauce as the others lol

༘⋆₊˚ keeho

i can already hear the disgruntled keeho truthers making their way but before yall kill me.. hear me out.. i think of kyo as a hard dom majority of the time, so i really don’t think he would make it aware to you even if he was pussy drunk. i also think making you feel good would be his priority, and he wouldn’t pay much mind to his own pleasure until his girl was satisfied, so i just don’t think he’s got the time and drive to be pussy drunk! he’s on a mission to have you trembling with want, and he can’t really achieve that if he’s drooling with lust for your cunt :/ maybe it’s just the way i characterize him.. but i just think he and shota are more focused on other things during intimacy

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© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

༘⋆₊˚

[cloveroctobers]

CUT TIES — Terry Richmond [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: There’s enough Terry to go around right? This is inspired by two things…OFC a song + taking another chance at writing something influenced by Love is Blind. Who saw that wasteful reunion?! Anyways that is what this is so get ready for angst.

WARNINGS: Reference to a intimate moment but a line at best?

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11:32pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I Need To Hear Your Voice…Can You Call Me?

Was the text message he sent you, which made you let out a long exhale.

11:43pm

TO: T. Richmond

I’m at work T [Deleted] Terry.

11:44pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I’m Aware. I’ll Feel Better When I Hear Your Voice…And I Know You’re Probably Saying That I’ve Got A lot Of Nerve To Say That To You Right Now…Yet This Will Always Be True, No Matter How Things Ended.

You were glad Terry can acknowledge that he did in fact have nerve requesting a call from you, when the both of you already had that final closure conversation weeks ago…however here he was back again, entering your life whenever he pleases.

Picking up your phone, after watching it ring for a while you debated about letting it go to voicemail honestly. You really didn’t need to hear many more angles about whatever situation Terry got fucked over in. Things seemed to be going well lately though, at least that’s what he tried to portray on social media…which was also new for him.

Always the type of man to be lowkey and out the way but after the exposure of being contestants on a certain love show, he stepped out just a little. It was never too much, Terry wasn’t the type of man to be in your face about his blessings but if things went south, then he had no problem stepping to you if common ground couldn’t be located.

“Hey,” He starts, his deep tone sounded as if he was ready to go to sleep, possibly lying down, whereas you were wired on your night shift, “Sorry for bothering you—

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but to let it slip through your lips, “Are you though?”

He hummed, “Nope, can’t say that I am, to be real with you.”

“Well, can’t ever say you failed at honesty.” You replied with a hint of sarcasm which made Terry chuckle humorlessly, “What’s up? What was so important that you needed to be on my hotline right now?”

It was Terry’s turn to roll his natural underlined eyes but he’s not trying to pick a fight or even think about you with someone else, “…the house is too quiet and I couldn’t sleep. The first person I wanted to talk to, to ease the loud silence…is you. I believe that’s how it’s always gon’ be.”

Not long after you called it quits, Terry closed on a house that he’s been eyeing long before he decided to go on the show. It was meant to be if they couldn’t get it sold. He of course talked to you about it once you were out of the pods, saying how some rooms needed Reno and asked your thoughts on if that could be your main home once married. Thankful that you already had your home that you owned at such a young age, You spoke about how much you already invested in your home and how you had no plans of selling just yet even if you two chose to get married.

Which isn’t something that he wanted you to do but questioned how this would work. He wasn’t down with sleeping in separate houses, although Terry knew it would take time to get everything right, the house he bought was livable and he wanted that with you.

Something that Terry always admired about you is, that you had your own mind and drive to do what you felt was best for you. He respected it, had to really learn how to when you said you two needed to put some distance between you after a final argument got too heated.

“…I’m sure you’ll get used to it at some point.”

“I don’t know if I agree with that.”

Terry listened to you sigh.

“I’m going to say something you won’t want to hear but I’m saying it anyway,” you start as you lightly flick your feathered pen back and forth at the desk, “You’re going to have to get comfortable being alone in that house, Terry. I know you’ve been used to being a lone wolf majority of the time…but you officially settled somewhere now and you’re building a life outside of the danger you once knew. Which I’m proud of by the way but you’re going to have to start finding comfort elsewhere or with yourself because I’m not going to provide that to you anymore.”

Terry was afraid that you were going to say this one day. Usually you both were good at having balance when your relationship was solid, giving each other the space needed and showing up when needed. Everything just took a turn once the chaos showed up again at Terry and his cousin, Mike’s business. This was the first time Terry ever lied to you and that came at multiple costs. It blew up in his face because leaving you in the dark and not communicating with his fiancée? led to being stalked and a home invasion that still haunted you.

Terry would always be sorry for that.

From bliss to passion to heat to closure to yearning. It was all stages of what this relationship was, for Terry it was the process of your love story whereas for you, it was part of your origin story.

“What if I say…I’m finding that’s not what I really want?” Terry speaks, “…That I don’t see much of a future without you in it? We talked through that hurdle, we wished each other the best after the reunion but what if that’s not enough for me? What if we’re each other’s best?“

This was another side you predicted would happen. One thing about you is, your mind was always turning just like the earth spinning on its axis. Which took another turn in your argument, speculating things that weren’t true once you found out that Terry lied about some new men targeting him. You predicted that once you both tried to move on and live without each other, the other would crack. It happened before, a month after the reunion when his aunt invited you to her forty-fifth birthday party. Your friends told you not to go and that night made you weak for Terry Richmond.

So weak you couldn’t feel your legs for days, Terry knew your body so well, had no problem burrying himself deep downstairs in his aunt’s basement, green hues trained only on you, while having your legs in the perfect V over his shoulders, and that man was a mountain.

A dangerous one.

Now it was your turn to fully stand on business and the year was coming to a close so you didn’t need Terry to find new ways in.

That was supposed to be understood but you both fumbled that at the party.

You had enough time to figure out what was best. Of course you experienced the what if’s yourself, been as loyal as they came but a structured life of constantly looking over your shoulder was just not it to you. To no longer feel safe with the man you thought you would grow old with. Now you had the world weighing in on what they’ve seen on their tv’s and online—you can handle challenges—you worked as a nurse on the oncology floor, however you have to be smart enough to realize when it was too much and that was enough to walk away.

“At a time we were,” you finally answered before reassuring, “Everything you’re feeling is valid. I hear you. I’ve been there and got through that. You will too.”

Terry’s silence was as potent on the phone as what he probably felt like the inside of his home was. The scratching of the branch that was too close to his bedroom window was similar to the clawing you were doing to his heart. He didn’t want to lose you for good, call him selfish but he didn’t want to just forget the unique connection you built.

Although he felt disrespected with the way you spoke (yelled) to (at) him during your breaking point, he was willing to come back and work through it but ultimately it felt like there was no trust there anymore. Terry did feel like you were looking for a way out because you two were “too” good together, unfortunately this was too big of a situation to come back from.

The stubborn one out of the two, Terry can sense that you already had your mind made up. Two tough conversations were had, one behind the scenes and another for streamers to dissect and formulate their own opinions on, should have been enough but Terry always kept his cards close. You were his most precious one, yet you were telling him how to store it away back into the deck for good.

“Is this really what you want? To fully walk away?”

A hint of annoyance hits you and could be felt as you start, “We went over this—

“So us going two rounds that day meant nothing?”

Sure it did.

“Terry that was goodbye, you had to have known that. The last hurrah. So let me make it clear this time without raising my voice because I know you hate that—and I’ve been working on it—I’m cutting ties.”

Half expecting the line to go dead, you still find yourself holding your breath as the quiet goes deadly silent. Until you hear shuffling on the other end, Terry’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, feeling a stress headache arrive right on both sides of his temples which then radiate to the back of his neck.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way…but I love you. I need you to know that.”

That was obvious but again, sometimes love isn’t enough.

“Don’t do that.”

“What’s that?”

“Trying to find other angles to make this work. We tried after the big argument—that spark isn’t the same and would never be the same.”

Terry huffs, “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”

Grasping at straws, was not necessarily in Terry’s nature. He also knew that statement was just not true. Both of you put your hearts on the line and this was something the both of you would have never taken so lightly.

“…don’t let your loneliness overshadow what can’t be managed. We been made our decision but this is me finally enforcing a boundary.” You inhale air through your teeth before continuing, “You are headstrong, very structured and lived a life that I know nothing about if it comes knocking at our door again. What happens if we brought kids into that? It’s not that I don’t believe you couldn’t keep us safe, it’s the fact that our lives would always be at risk even if it’s not something you intentionally brought to the table.”

“We take risks every time we step out the door. That’s what life is,” Terry tried to reason, “I tried to leave the life I lived prior behind me, which is why I like to keep to myself and not open up. You changed that. I know we’ve been over this countless of times…I just don’t know if I’m ready to completely cut the rope. To never have you around is…a scary thought.”

In a minute, it wouldn’t just be a thought.

“It’ll be as if before we met. I’m not saying it’s easy by any means but I’ve accepted the art of letting go. Ending access to each other for real this time, does not automatically mean we never loved each other or there isn’t any more love there. If we fell back into each other, it would be a repeat of all the pieces we wouldn’t want to live with. It’ll be hard to fake and deal with.”

“Deal with?” Terry echoed in a tone that oozed frustration, “I’d be willing to be a team.”

“Then why wasn’t that taken into consideration when those men shot up your business? Or me being stalked by one of those men at work? Then being followed home.” You felt your blood pressure rising at what you thought you forgave—but everything is a process, “Or when Summer and I went out to lunch, just to find out that she knew about the drive by before I did? Or how I almost got ran over on purpose in the parking garage at work? That didn’t feel like team work. I was in the dark when we needed to continue to be a piece of each other’s light from the damn sun rays. Being the last to know often, did not make me feel like a priority. I feel like that part of you, you wanted to shield me from all the time…so now I’m going to be a shield on my terms.”

Terry Richmond never wanted to be responsible for changing the trajectory of someone’s entire life in a negative way. Although you said the love shared wouldn’t just vanish, it did feel like you thought about it and had time to sit on it.

He could make this easy and give you what you wanted, should have and it was once something he actually agreed to. However people change their minds all the time and he never saw himself falling out of love with you.

It wasn’t about being trained, it was about being in love.

He clears his throat, “I had no intentions on making this conversation out to be difficult…I knew I’d get push back, it’s one of the things I love about you,” Terry says, “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, that your voice is actually what makes me feel safe and probably always will. And that I hope I’d get the chance to love you more in every lifetime. That was part of what I wrote to you in our vows by the way and I still stand by those words. If I had more time, those words would be actions. I’d make up for it, if you just let me.”

Him saying that over the phone, did make you feel a way. It made the back of your eyes burn but the shield was already in the works of being fully up. You didn’t need to hear this, you never doubted Terry’s love for you but it was over, you had the scissors slowly running along what kept you connected. Terry didn’t get the choice to go back on the agreement, yes people change their minds all the time but there was no time to compromise.

“There’s no use in crying over spilled milk, Terry.” Is all you can say, leaving each other to listen to each other’s breathing before the man is finally hit with the call ending.

He’s left holding on tightly to his phone, taking in the sound of autumn’s whipping air outside of his home. Tossing the phone behind him on the bed, Terry gets to his feet, determination shining his in his eyes while he begins to put his mind elsewhere opposed to holding onto you.

As you sat at the front desk, you snapped out of the dissociation that wanted to creep in, to place your phone on charge. Then grabbed onto some scissors returning back to the craft project you were working on to help decorate this level of the hospital for the holidays.

Snip!

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More autumn anthology prompts here.

[markresonates]

two hot

summary: for some reason, your body requires more than one alpha to satiate your needs in heat, leading Mark to seek assistance from his best friend when you unexpectedly start going into heat in public.

pairing: alpha bf!Mark x omega!fem reader x alpha!Haechan

other: alphas Jen & Jis lil voy

genre/trope: porn w/ lil plot, tiny fluff bc i'm soft; omegaverse, fake medical conditions as a plot device; (eventual poly, not jealous love tri)

word count: 8.8k

a/n: so here's that markhyuck omega heat sex threesome idea i mentioned a while ago...per usual, it’s longer than i said why am i the way i am so i’m splitting it into 2 pts!

warnings: rough unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), cock warming, manhandling, exhibitionism & extremely public, voyeurism, humiliation, lil dumbification, overstimulation, degradation & praise, spitting, stomach bulge, cum inflation, knotting, oral fixation reader, breeding & creampie kinks; sweet hard dom Mark & hard dom Haechan, super sub reader [ note – heat sex is categorized as dubcon; therefore, read at your own discretion ]

You thought you had more time. You should have had more time. 

About an hour into your new Introduction to Astronomy lecture, your waning attention span is fully disrupted by a suspicious wetness you feel between your thighs. You uncross your legs and casually glance down, heart dropping when you discover a small pool of glossy slick in the middle of your lecture hall seat, heralding the start of your heat.

it’s official: life fucking hates you. 

Rationally, you’re aware of the fact that you need to formulate a plan but as you shift in your seat, your train of thought is derailed by the sensation sparked between your legs. You clench your jaw and grind your teeth together, forbidding your mouth from vocalizing the shred of gratification you get from squirming in your seat. 

Of all the damn days to pair a bodysuit and a pleated mini skirt, this day has got to be the absolute worst. But of course it had to be warm enough today that you felt comfortable showing more skin. In your mind, it made sense to seize the favorable weather before the last remnants of Summer disappeared into a chilly Autumn, but now you’d rather be bundled in three thick layers and sweating buckets than vulnerable in your current attire.

While you arch your back and discreetly grind against the messy chair, the bodysuit stretches, progressively sliding up your abdomen, and bunching at your waist. The damp material tugs on your hood, a second later, your clit is subjected to rough stimulation directly. Intense tingles ripple through your core from the sensitive spot. Even with your lips pressed together, you can’t suppress the tiny high-pitched squeak in your throat.

Renjun angles his laptop towards you, quickly typing out are you okay? 

You freeze your body. Giving him a terse nod, you rid yourself of the unwanted attention and resume the lewd activity. It takes a mere 30 seconds for your folds to eat up the narrow strips of material that once covered your intimate parts, giving your slick pussy a wedgie. It’s uncomfortably restrictive, and yet, simultaneously a massive turn on. 

You should be more concerned but the torturous pressure feels too good to stop, restraint briefly suspended again in a pleasured daze, chasing the desired pulsating sensation. Your eyes pop out of your head hearing the small metal snap of your bodysuit’s crotch region pop open, exposing your panties underneath and instantly bringing you back to reality. 

Jisung ducks his head near your ear. “Hey, what’s that-?”

“What’s what?” you immediately cut him off, worried he heard the same noise.

He hums, pursing his lips. “What’s that smell?”

“uh, well…” 

You gulp, so mortified that it’s impossible to meet his eyes, embarrassment warming your cheeks, your heat cranking up the bubbling sensation within you.

This shouldn’t be happening. You’ve documented your heat cycle since the day you started taking suppressants years ago. If you left it up to nature, your heat would be a seasonal affair. Now, thanks to the convenience of modern-day medicine, taking one daily pill significantly lowers your heat cycle frequency to biannually.

It’s always been consistent enough that you could pinpoint the exact 48 hour period in which it would start. In fact, a series of predetermined dates are highlighted on your desk calendar for when you’re supposed to be in heat: over four months from now.

Your scent is detectable in two ways: if someone were to press their nose directly to your scent gland, or the significantly more potent way, through the profuse slick secretion omegas produce in heat. 

And given the fact that you’re practically sitting in a puddle of slick at the moment, panic is knocking at your front door with fever. Any alpha in a ten foot radius will soon smell the arousing nectar leaking out of you. 

Fortunately, you’re in the last row of a half empty lecture hall. Rather than a dozen alphas, it’s a handful of the closest ones that’ll be raising their noses to get a whiff of the fragrant aroma floating through the air, two of those alphas being your friends.

Jisung sniffs around curiously, even going so far as to lean forward, over where Jeno is sitting directly in front of you.

“Hmm, it’s, like, sweet and fruity. Do you smell it? Like raspberries…or maybe strawberries?”

Renjun stops typing notes on his laptop. “I don’t smell anything.”

Figures; betas like Renjun don’t detect omega scents until they are at the absolute peak of their heat, and even then it wouldn’t be very strong. 

“Also, for your information, raspberries and strawberries aren’t berries.”

“Wha- Really!?” 

“Yeah. Most fruits that end in ‘berry’ aren’t actually berries, botanically speaking.”

“Um, Renjun?” you try to grab his attention in a hushed voice, failing as a result of Jisung talking over you at the same instant.

Besides your first heat, you’ve always been well prepared. You take preventative measures against potential alphas who may smell you and want to take advantage of a heat-drunk omega. 

Your typical protocol entails remaining holed up in your dark room. The mini fridge by your desk is fully stocked with four days worth of food and beverages, the air conditioner is on full blast, curtains and blinds drawn closed. Your door is secured shut with three bolted locks too.

For your past few heats, Mark has locked himself up with you as well. Being an omega, it was of vital importance to find a trustworthy alpha that wouldn’t savagely take advantage of your heat-induced instinctual nature to follow an alpha’s orders. The whole reason you submit to Mark is because you know he would never take things too far. For your past two heats, Mark was knotting you until his exhaustion proved overwhelming, and he physically couldn’t use his big dick any longer. Basically, your alpha can’t go far enough, for some indiscernible reason.

Based on the increasing amount of slick and the new ache in your core, you’d estimate you have less than an hour before your heat will seriously start affecting your senses. There’s a reason you keep track of your heat cycle, and it’s to avoid horrendous situations like this one. 

You’re struck with uncertainty and a minor sense of helplessness, facing your worst nightmare alone. At the moment, you don’t have Mark by your side, protecting you from other predatory alphas, ensuring you eat and drink something when you’re too out of it to do so yourself; and most importantly, pleasuring you to take away the pain that comes with your extreme heat cramps. 

You need Mark. 

Mouth beginning to water, deep in your filthy thoughts, you don’t register the conversation around you. You imagine him taking care of you in this very lecture hall, bent over the sturdy wooden podium at the front of the class.

You’re preoccupied and perplexed, a fraction of you developing a peculiarly strong craving for a knot – any knot. Considering how fast your heat crept up on you in the first place, you have every reason to believe this craving will continue to intensify. You feel ashamed to admit it, but at this rate, you might just find yourself allowing any alpha to knot you. 

Jisungs face scrunches up in disbelief, hearing another botanical fun fact. “No way. You’re trying to tell me bananas are berries? I don’t believe you.”

Jeno snorts, barely peering over his shoulder to throw his two cents into the hushed conversation. “Why are you arguing with Renjun? When was the last time you ate a fruit?”

“I don’t know. When was the last time you didn’t fall asleep at 6 am?” Jisung grumbles, not-so-quietly as he intended. 

If they weren’t in a classroom setting, Jisung would’ve hidden behind Renjun or grabbed something to shield himself from the other alpha’s wrath. Jeno fully twists his torso around, dawning a toothy grin that spells trouble for the youngest in the near future. He opens his mouth to speak but ultimately falls silent.

The lecture hall’s desks are the type that flip down to hover over half of your lap. With only your right thigh covered, Jeno’s eyes flick down to where you've been looking. 

He zeros in on the source of the fruity scent Jisung was referencing. He drops his smile, licking his lips, dark pupils flashing candy apple red. The other two shift their attention to your lap in quick succession.

Initially, Jisung doesn’t see what they do from his position. His curiosity then leads the naive boy to bend his upper body down and inch forward. Finally granted a vantage point to peer between your legs, his face turns a shade that matches the berries he spoke of a minute ago.  

“Uh, y/n? Are you, um, in-” Jisung stutters, his bright eyes locked between your parted thighs. 

Both alphas stare, mystified by the sight of your drenched panties, the thin white material now see-through and doing nothing to stop you from making a mess in the center of the lecture hall chair. Lifting your head, you see Jeno’s pupils fully dilated, swirling with lust, and you imagine Jisung isn’t too far off, mirroring the older alpha. 

You belatedly try to snap your thighs together but Jisung, of all people, latches onto your inner knee and keeps most of your seeping slit on display for them. His fingers digs into your soft skin in an uncharacteristically possessive manner, while Jeno quietly growls. 

They’re increasingly aroused hearing a spurt of your slick gush from your core, discovering you to be turned on by your own humiliation. You softly whine, embarrassed beyond all possible belief. 

“What happened to decorum, huh?” the beta scolds the younger alphas. 

Jisung snaps out of it and rips his hand away so fast it hits his desk. “Ow!”

“Acting like you just presented and never smelled slick before? Ugh. Get a fucking grip, you guys.” 

Renjun sets his phone on his desk, angling it towards you to show his screen and you tune out the apology from the frazzled boy on your right. “Hey, so I texted Mark. The good news is he’s on his way.” 

You exhale in relief. “Okay. Wait, what’s the bad news?”

Renjun winces, reluctant to kill your newly kindled hope. “Well…he said it’ll probably take him a half hour to get here.”

“A half hour?” 

You snap your tongue, loathing today’s dreaded turn of events. You squeeze your eyes shut to fight off the tears threatening to stain your burning cheeks.

“Oh, hold on.” Renjun scans the new message from your boyfriend, rereading it in his head, triple checking the text before delivering the additional details. “He said he’s…sending someone to get you? And they’ll be here in a dozen minutes or so.”

You furrow your brow, confused. “Who?” 

“Dunno, he didn't say.” Renjun shoots him another text, asking for the identity of this mystery person he’s referring to. 

You stare at his phone intently, beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck and haloing your hairline. Renjun taps the dim screen to keep it from turning off.

As you impatiently wait for an answer, your old nervous habit of picking and biting your nails resurfaces. You peel part of your nail off and fixate on the minor self-inflicted sting for the sake of a distraction from your intimate regions pulsating with arousal, not to mention the graphic, x-rated imagery about how easily you’d bend over for alphas in your vicinity.

Renjun lifts the back of his hand to your feverish forehead, the worry on his face deepening into his soft features. “Don’t take this the wrong way, y/n, but why did you come to class if you were in pre-heat?”

“When I left my apartment this morning, I didn’t fucking feel like I was in pre-heat,” you hiss through clenched teeth. 

You ring your head low and swallow your bad temperament as the harsh tone reaches your ears. You cringe, barely recognizing your own voice.

“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated because I don’t know what’s going on. I shouldn’t take it out on you though.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it. You’re stressed out.” Renjun gives you a sympathetic look, equally as confused by your body as you are. “Well this explains why you wore that today.”

“What do you mean?”

Renjun clicks on the weather app to show you the temperature outside. “Because it’s cold today. But if you were really warm, the temperature outside wouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Ugh, oh my god. You’re right,” you reply, mentally slapping your forehead for not actually checking the forecast for today. Simply put, you believed you knew better, based on how warm your room felt when you got out of bed this morning.

You hold your abdomen and apply minimal pressure there, preparing for the onset of pain when your cramps start up, just like the bad habit responsible for the new drop of blood swelling at the tip of your finger. 

Jisung is quick to dig into his messy backpack and procure a quick fix for any minor injuries. It’s clear that he’s trying to be as helpful as possible, still feeling terribly guilty for holding your thighs open and preventing you from hiding what was visible to him and Jeno through your thin panties. 

You dab the blood with the folded tissue he hands you, and then wrap the blue and green, dinosaur themed band-aid around your finger. “Thank you,” you whisper to Jisung sincerely, touching his arm to express gratitude. 

You don’t blame the guilt-ridden alpha too much. After watching your pussy leak slick through the soaked white material, it was only in his nature to want to breed an omega on the verge of going into heat. The baby alpha Jisung you know and love wouldn’t do that.

Renjun lightly taps the back of your hand when you pick the finger next to the freshly bandaged one. He clasps your hands together, preventing you from doing more damage to that hand, at least. 

You frown at your hypocritical friend who himself hasn’t managed to kick the same bad habit as you. Nonetheless, you appreciate his comforting action. 

“You know, I keep thinking why me? What have I done to deserve this?” You gesture at your thighs with your free hand. “And how am I supposed to last another however many minutes?”

Renjun pauses and sighs. “On second thought, maybe you should go now. It’s way stuffier inside, so it might be a good idea to go splash some water on your face in the bathroom first before whoever Mark sent gets here.”

You hesitate for a second. You're troubled by not only the mess you've made in your seat, but the continual trickle of slick, potentially painting a colorful bullseye on your wet cunt. 

Alphas with practiced, keen olfactory systems can track a scent from a mile away, the express purpose to savagely use the needy omega they find simply because your kind is at its most vulnerable in heat. 

You always knew that omegas drew the short stick in life, but it was only after you had observed Mark’s rut in person that you officially became envious of alphas. An alpha’s number one priority during rut, above food and shelter and anything in between, is to breed omegas. 

They’ll brutally fuck a slick hole for multiple days, repeatedly knotting them until their bun-hungry alpha brain is sure that the omega will deliver them happy, healthy pups. 

Nearly every omega and most alphas take suppressants, making the chances of knocking up an omega less than 0.001% if both partners are medicated. Though, regardless of their incredibly slim chances of conceiving, that does not dissuade a stubborn alpha in rut from attempting to produce offspring. 

During Mark’s last rut, despite the primal need to dominate and fuck your brains out, oddly enough, his stamina weirdly didn’t match yours. 

“Whoever Mark’s sending is supposed to get here any minute, so there’s no real harm in leaving a minute earlier. No one would try anything with you if you’re in a public setting like school,” Renjun assures you and gives your hand one last squeeze. 

“Y/n?” Jisung works up the courage to gently tap your arm like you did his, giving you what remains of the travel size tissue packet that’s been in his backpack for nearly three years. “Don’t worry about the chair. We’ll wipe it off when you leave.”

Jeno guiltily turns around again and apologizes like the younger alpha. He then makes a generous offer to save you the trouble of waiting a second longer to leave for good. 

“I can drive you home now, if you want, y/n. And, you know, if you feel comfortable enough being alone with another alpha…no pressure. It’s just the least I can do.”

“Um, thank you. I think, uh…” 

Fifteen minutes ago, when you had no plan whatsoever and hadn’t been in contact with Mark, you would’ve taken him up on the offer, but Renjun is right. You know that a part of you is really craving a knot. However, you believe you’re lucid enough to handle going to the bathroom by yourself. 

You don’t see yourself jumping at the first opportunity to sit on a throbbing alpha cock, bouncing up and down, pathetically begging them to fill you up with an excessive amount of cum, like you did before. Plus, you don’t want to attract even more unwanted attention if two of you were to stand up and walk out in the middle of the lecture. 

“I think I’m good, Jeno. It’s just around the corner. I’ll be fine.” 

You pick up your bag, tying the varsity jacket that Jeno generously handed to you around your waist. You head for the door, walking at a reasonable speed to not attract more attention than your scent likely has. 

Jeno’s jacket conceals most of the slick running down your inner thighs, and you make a mental note to somehow make it up to him later.

You have almost reached the bathroom when, out of nowhere, you’re ambushed by an alpha, pressed face first against the brick wall of the science building. 

Whoever it is had the sense to slip his hand in front of your heated forehead to break the blow against the wall and not crack your skull open on impact. Obviously, alphas don’t want a dead omega. 

You can’t breed something that’s not breathing.

That’s basic alpha 101.

Your heart rattles in your ribcage, racing a million miles per hour. You wish you were allotted enough time to wipe up your slick before being attacked. 

If only you had accepted Jeno’s offer to be safely escorted, then you wouldn’t be pinned to a wall, hands held behind your back by an alpha presumably relying purely on an animalistic desire.

To make matters worse, being dominated so aggressively triggers a surge of arousal from within your inner omega, the yearning for sexual fulfillment intensifying at a rate higher than in your lecture. 

On instinct, tremendously touch starved, you grind your hips back, pressing your ass against the half-hard cock hidden in the alpha’s pants. 

He leans closer to your ear, pulling the cherry lollipop out of his mouth to whisper in a deep, gravelly voice, “Did somebody miss me?” 

You whimper, timidly, and he chuckles. 

Something possesses you to tilt your head to the side, submissive and craving a knot so damn badly that you’re willing to bare your vulnerable neck for the alpha. 

He hesitates, before nosing at your scent gland, shakily exhaling through his mouth. Presented with such an alluring opportunity, the alpha almost loses his cool, tempted to accept your invitation and take advantage of your omega’s baseline reflex to submit. 

Practicing a degree of restraint that very, very few alphas in his unique position possess, he instead places a single soft kiss to the spot he knows is reserved for Mark’s teeth.

Mark…

You break out of your innate trance as lips that don’t belong to your alpha are still pressed to your neck, the gravity kicking in about what it means to allow a stranger to bite and claim you. 

You can’t imagine what your life would be like as a double claimed omega, shared by two alphas, belonging to both Mark and the mysterious, possessive person behind you. 

You catch him off guard by ripping away. You whip around, snapping your tongue when you finally discover the identity of your attacker. 

“Argh, what the fuck, Haechan?”

You lean back against the solid wall, holding a hand over your chest as if your heart is on the brink of bursting through the slats of your ribs. 

“Did you have to give me a heart attack? What happened to saying hello, hm?”

He snickers, a melodious, infectious laugh that makes you want to smile as well. This time, with tremendous effort, you hold your ground. 

“What’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” he says, sticking the candy back in his mouth.

You wish you could chase away the butterflies in your stomach that are consistently conjured up when his designated pet name for you rolls off his silver tongue. You’ve seen Haechan flirt with countless girls, yet he’s always reserved “sweetheart” and “sweetie” for his favorite omega. 

You can’t describe why hearing his pet names excites you, inappropriately so. Perhaps, you like feeling special to him in some way, his sugar-coated sweet tooth reserved for you and you only.

Mark knows all of this.

He would have to be both blind and deaf to not see Haechan’s effect on your body and pick up on the sound of your heart racing. His charming best friend is frustratingly swoon worthy, but Mark had never minded it much. A case can be made that Mark is the jealous type. It’s for this very reason you find it so curious that he allows Haechan to get away with openly flirting with his omega.

“Why are you even-?” 

You freeze as he wipes a tear from your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers along the side of your face and down your neck. He wraps his hand behind your neck with his thumb pressing into where your pulse is fluttering rapidly, tucking the lollipop into the side of his cheek to speak.

“Shh, take deep breaths for me, baby. In…out…in…out.” 

The alpha’s instruction marginally calms your nerves, your omega instincts compelling you to follow without question. You are obedient and malleable, most especially in heat, for Haechan and your own alpha, of course.

“Good girl.” His praise has you biting your lip, whining softly. “Renjun probably told you but Mark’s on his way. He sent me to take care of you first.”

“Oh,” you reply, dumbly. 

You should have suspected that Mark would send him to pick you up. It’s obvious in retrospect. He trusts Haechan with his life; by extension, he would have total faith in his best friend to handle you too.

“Yeah, oh,” he mimics with an annoyingly charming curl of his heart shaped lips. 

Haechan basically gets off on annoying people, although his form of teasing you differs from others. Plus, you never fail to give him the reaction he’s searching for, playfully rolling your eyes, quietly snapping your tongue, or throwing some weak comeback in return. 

“Are you disappointed to see me, y/n? I know you're Mark’s princess but you’ll just have to settle for me this time.”

“Wow, how noble of you. My hero,” you reply, sarcastically. “Can we go now?”

“By all means, lead the way, sweetheart.”

Right on queue, you roll your eyes, just like he knew you would. You take a few steps in the direction he gestures to before the first heat cramp punctures your core. Luckily, Haechan catches your body as your knees buckle, doubling over in pain. 

Haechan clears his throat. “Y/n, you should know that Mark didn’t just send me here to pick you up,” he says cryptically, unpocketing his phone. 

He proceeds to play a voicemail Mark left him. You listen with pursed lips, furrowing your brow as you take in your alpha’s words. 

You try to concentrate on the message, partially distracted by Haechan’s scent swirling around you, quickly permeating your skin and thoughts. 

“Hyuck, you’re the only alpha I completely trust to take care of y/n like that…and by that, you know what I mean. And don’t be surprised if she, like, starts to beg for it. She can be realllly needy, trust me.”

There’s a spike in Haechan’s scent, reminded of his personal mission to hear you beg. 

Despite not having kissed him, you can taste him on your lips. His all-encompassing spicy musk intensifies, melting into a subtle syrupy vanilla that clings to your tongue and stirs up a hunger for forbidden fruit. The cherry candy is no match to his natural scent.

“Oh! One more thing. y/n likes it a bit, um, rough when she’s in heat…so just keep that in mind. I’ll be there as soon as possible, dude. 40 minutes tops. Alright, see you then.”

Haechan looks at you, searching for a reaction, but instead, he sees your face contort painfully again. 

“Sweetie, look at me.” 

You turn your head, now within proximity to count all the pretty moles on his sun-kissed face, like sunflower seeds you’re tempted to taste and swallow by the handful until you’re physically ill. 

“Do you want…” 

You straighten your back again, a chill running up your spine as Haechan slowly reaches under your skirt. He drags his hand up the inside of your thigh. The tips of his fingers draw through the many lines of slick dripping down your legs.

“…my help?” he finishes in a tone deeper than you knew he could produce. 

Your cheeks and ears burn with embarrassment, feeling another mini rush of wetness soak the utterly useless material covering your throbbing core. There’s no denying that you’re incredibly aroused by Haechan. He knows you know he can smell the gush of new slick you involuntarily released.

A strong sexual desire pumps through your veins, driving you up the walls. You’ve always been curious about what it would be like to have the alpha ruin you and use your body like a toy, but you’re not certain how much of that can be attributed to being on the verge of heat. For better or for worse, you decide that that’s a problem for future you to determine, and present you to toss out the window. 

Tasting a mere crumb of Haechan’s touch wasn’t enough – you had to swallow him whole, and the only way you could do that is by giving him the pleasure of devouring you first. 

“y-yes, please.” 

Your answer is so faint that if he were any farther away, he wouldn’t have heard it. 

Haechan suppresses a smug smile, pleasantly surprised to get your first “please” this soon after catching up with you. 

“That’s what I thought, sweetheart.”

His skilled fingers touch where you want him most, grazing over your clothed pussy. Anticipating some kind of pleasured noise, he holds your body close and pops the lollipop inside your mouth. 

He scans your surroundings for a place nearby with any additional smidge of privacy. Locating a possible secluded destination, he steers your weak body in the direction of his choice. Haechan snakes a hand up the front of your skirt again, pressing his thick cock against your ass as you stumble forward. 

Imagining how dirty you must look turns you on, the debauchery of grinding on someone in broad daylight while they have your skirt flipped up to rub over your wet panties has your vision blurring momentarily. Modesty is nothing but a vague concept in the far off distance, seconds away from disappearing over the horizon. 

The next thing you know, your body is pressed against a cool hard surface, bleary eyed and craving the kind of high only a mind blowing orgasm can earn. 

You vaguely recognize you’re behind the science building you came out of before Haechan ambushed you, escaping the bright rays of burning sun that were beating down on you by slinking into the secluded shadows with the golden, silky voiced alpha.

Your skirt rides up as he shoves a knee between your legs. He gets a firm grip on your hips as you grind down against his thigh, soaking the material of his skinny jeans, creating a wet spot in the denim with your slick.

“Wow, would you look at that? Baby made a mess all over me already. I bet you wanted that, huh? Rubbing your slick on me so people know you’re fucking two alphas?”

You remove the lollipop to refute his provocative claim. “I-I’m not fucking two alphas.”

“Ha, maybe…not yet, anyways. But you want to. Isn’t that right, y/n?”

Your mouth goes dry, tongue rough, throat scratchy like sandpaper. You part your lips to argue with him but nothing comes out. Instead, you insert the lollipop again, sucking on the shrinking round candy, a poor attempt at covering up your original intention.

“Exactly…now, let’s see what we’ve got here.”

Haechan places your clammy hands on either side of his shoulders to ensure you won’t lose your balance, then he lowers himself to crouch in front of you.

“Hold.” He lifts up your skirt, giving you the bottom hem so he can get down to business.

Haechan’s fingers dig between your clothed folds, feeling your slick leak onto his hand. The thin material pushes into your entrance in an unsatisfying way and you whine. 

He tsks his tongue three times, shaking his head. “Just as I suspected.” 

You don’t need a reminder of how wet you are, and yet Haechan still brings his hand up for you to see the wet webbing clinging to the tips of his spread fingers anyways. A small embarrassed noise escapes your mouth. 

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, using his thumb to toy with your clit, “you look so adorable when you’re embarrassed. All rosy-cheeked and messy.”

Haechan slides your panties down your legs and you cooperate by stepping out of them, hands still anchored to his shoulders. He brings them to his face and licks off a great majority of the wetness that seeped out of you, peering into your soul as he does so. Your lips form a slight pout, missing his touch.

“Ha, Mark was right. You are a needy omega,” he teases and pockets your panties like a trophy he’ll proudly keep forever. 

“What would Mark say if he saw his precious omega barring her neck for a total stranger?” 

You softly moan a bit louder as he curls his fingers just right. Your knees wobble, struggling to stay upright. 

The image of the alpha ravaging your body while Mark watches the act unfold, makes it difficult to focus on your surroundings, distracting you from the minor degree of shame in your chest. 

You couldn’t care less about your indecent exposure at the moment either – you feel too good to care about anything. 

“H-haechan…I want you…want you so fucking bad,” you breathe out, words slightly slurred with the round candy in your mouth. 

Haechan’s cock twitches, picturing you in tears, your walls struggling to accommodate him. However, he is aware that behind a school building isn’t the most ideal place to take an omega in heat, especially considering the potency of your heavenly scent, steadily increasing. 

Since Mark isn’t here yet, the least he could do is take you inside the building.

Your slick seeps into the frontside of Haechan’s clothes, clinging to his upper body for dear life as he carries you into an empty classroom. He sets you down on the lab table and observes the damage to his clothes.

“i-i’m sorry about that.” You lean back, peering down at your lap, nervously.

“Oh, baby…c’mere.”

Haechan cups over your knees and tilts forward to kiss your neck, sucking a dark hickey right next to your mating mark from his best friend. 

“I like collecting these little spots from you.” He pries your thighs apart and draws closer to your bare pussy.

“It’s cute that your body can’t help but mark me somehow.” 

He gets on his knees, darts his tongue out to swirl around your clit. His fingers prod your slick core and slide inside you, stroking your sensitive spot skillfully. The breathy noises he’s rewarded with are ones he’ll remember forever. 

It’s astonishing how quickly Haechan figures you out. 

He’s already in tune with your body, keenly aware of what makes you tick, knowing how to make you quiver and arch your back beautifully. 

Not before long, Haechan has you shaking uncontrollably, squeezing your eyes shut, your short stuttered breathing uneven and shallow as your orgasm peaks, and you topple into an abyss of intense pleasure. The lollipop falls out of your open mouth, rolling off the black table.

You might as well be outside, stargazing in the dead of night based on how many constellations and galaxies twinkle and swirl behind your fluttering eyelids. 

Haechan doesn’t let up on his efforts to overload your system with a tingly static sensation. Sobbing pathetically, you try to bat him away with what little strength you have, overstimulated and overcome with the sizzling heat frying your nerve endings. 

He huffs and retracts his hands, wiping his mouth and the mess of dripping juices on your inner thigh. 

“Okay, fine. I won’t touch you anymore!” he tosses his hands up in the air, melodramatic as ever.

“Finally,” you murmur, granted relief to catch your breath for the first time. 

You’re heavily panting, linking your fingers together and resting your hands atop your head to allow better airflow into your oxygen deprived lungs. He steps back and studies you like a unique specimen for medical observation. 

A few quiet moments pass before the dull cramps creep up inside you, not yet terribly painful but aching in a way that guarantees incoming sharp pains. You whimper for stimulation again, sending puppy dog eyes at Haechan. 

“More…please.”

The alpha’s face is painted with mischief, taunting you by reaching for your body then abruptly stepping back to watch you sniffle, and rock back and forth.

Upon noticing your eyes starting to well up with tears, he ultimately gives in. Haechan curls two and then three fingers inside you, opening you up for his throbbing cock. 

As much as he’d love to see you cry, he’s under strict instruction to satisfy and take care of you. He can’t threaten to not relieve the effects of your heat and tease you to the point of genuine distress.

“Aww, don’t cry, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” 

You let out a breathy moan and make grabby motions to the tent in his pants. 

“Hm, does the cry baby want a knot?” You bite your bottom lip, nodding. “Yeah? Can you use your words? Or is there nothing going on up there in that pretty little head of yours?” 

He lightly taps your forehead twice, then slides that hand up to tangle in your hair.

You smile, shy and small,  and, dare he say, adorable. “You- you think I’m pretty?”

One side of the alpha’s mouth curls up, amused that “pretty” was the only word that you clung onto. He rolls his eyes, teasingly. 

“Of course you’re pretty, y/n.” Haechan removes his hand from your hair to take out his thick cock. “And only the prettiest of girls get this.”

With a newly unveiled salivating incentive, you immediately pull yourself together, spine straight as an arrow. 

You stare at his shiny, precum-glossy cock with heart eyes, licking your lips as he gives himself a few jerks and produces more pearly droplets from his slit. He pushes you back against the lab table when you try to get to your feet for a taste.

“You can choke on my cock later, princess. I thought you wanted a knot? Or did you change your mind?”

“No! I-I do want it,” you frantically reply.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I really want it, Haechan, really badly.” He raises an eyebrow, expecting more. “Please…please, knot me. I wanna be filled with your cum. I’m begging you…breed me, Alpha.”

Breed me, Alpha rings in Haechan’s ears like wedding bells signifying the everlasting bond of a committed partnership. Hearing your sweet voice desperately begging for his seed, using the dominant title you only ever use with Mark, your real alpha, gets Haechan rock hard. 

He savors every second he gets to be your alpha. 

Satisfied with your eloquently worded, pitiful plea, he lines himself up. His shiny cockhead glides through your folds before breaching your dripping entrance. 

“That’s what I thought, sweetheart,” the alpha whispers against your scent gland, his mouth sucking it softly.

 You gasp as he drives his hips forward, forcefully pushing against your tiny hole until you’ve accepted his blunt tip, and sucked his fat cock inside. 

Mark can smell you the second he drives on campus. He rolls his window down to take another alluring whiff, his right hand just barely gripping the bottom of the steering wheel while his left palms the bulge in his snug jeans, tenting obscenely. 

Mind preoccupied, his tunnel vision blinds him from focusing on a single thing besides seeking you out and filling you with loads of cum as soon as possible. He doesn’t recall pulling into the parking lot, getting out of his car, or locking it. All he knows is that, within the blink of an eye, he’s rushed across the campus, his feet landing just outside one of the science labs housed in the same building as your astronomy lecture.

Yanking the door wide open, his wild eyes dart to where his best friend’s knot is locked inside his omega, rubbing your clit so aggressively after your third orgasm that you’re reduced to a twitching mess. 

You don’t immediately recognize Mark’s presence, too lost in the intense buzzing sensation to even register that the alpha barged into the room.

Mark slams the door behind him and purposely leaves the door unlocked like Haechan did. There’s a certain reckless thrill that comes with the possibility of getting caught in a compromising position.

In contrast to the way he raced here, driving haphazardly and disobeying traffic laws, Mark slowly crosses the lab room towards your splayed body in a few, brisk strides. He removes his hard cock from his jeans with a lazy smile, stroking himself and licking his lips as you cry out.

Haechan flicks his chin up at Mark, greeting him happily. He makes a show out of pressing a slick-coated finger against your lips to silence you. 

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta keep it down. You don’t want everyone next door to hear, right? They’d probably say ‘we should go check on whoever’s crying!’ Only to come in here and find their pretty classmate is a dumb little slut…with a cunt full of cum.” 

You whine, leading him to push two of his dirty fingers into your mouth to shut you up. His smirks as you mindlessly suck on them like a binkie, shutting your eyes and humming pleasantly. 

“She’s so pretty when she cries.”

“I know right?” 

Mark makes a growling noise in the back of his throat as he rubs his hand over where he can see the faint outline of Haechan’s thick knot buried inside you, making your abdomen bulge. Both you and Haechan shutter, feeling a tingly sensation from the pressure your boyfriend applies. 

“So, how’s she been?”

“Well, she-”

“Mar?” you weakly croak around Haechan’s fingers and he removes them.

“I’m here, y/n, I’m right here.” Mark wipes a lone tear of yours away and caresses your warm cheek. “How are you feeling, baby?” 

“I’m…hot.”

“No objection there,” Haechan jokes.

“Why did you send Haechan?” you continue like you didn’t hear the alpha currently plugging you up with cum.

“Oh, y/n. You remember how you were during your last heat.” Mark stops stroking his cock and takes out a tissue to dab away the sheen of sweat on your feverish forehead. 

“Actually, you were probably too far gone, huh?” 

You blink up at him, tilting your head into his hand when he tries to wipe your cheek. If you’re being honest with yourself, you only recall bits and pieces, and none of those memories are exceptionally vivid. 

“I didn’t know it was possible. Like, I looked it up and on average, omegas need to be knotted 5x before their heat breaks. But, y/n, seriously, I lost track of how many times I knotted you and it’s never enough. I couldn’t take care of you throughout all of your heat and it killed me to see you like that and not be able to help you more. You need more than I can give you, princess.” 

He offers you a small genuine smile, his hand trailing down to palm at your exposed breast. Mark gently rolls your nipple between his fingers, hearing you quietly purr. “So Haechan was nice enough to agree to help me help you.”

“But Mark-” 

“It’s for your own good, y/n,” Mark calmly tells you. “And didn’t Haechan make you feel nice?”

“Um, well, I-” 

You gulp, ruminating on how you want to answer, whether you should tell him that another alpha made you feel as amazing as Mark does.  

“Wanna tell me what it’s like to have his knot locked inside that tight little pussy of yours? I know you love being full of my cum. What about his cum? I bet you looove getting fucked full of his cum too, huh?”

“Y-yeah, I love being full of cum…your cum and-and Haechan’s cum.”

Mark smiles at your response and rewards you by pinching your perky nipple. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.”

You whine when Haechan wiggles his mostly deflated cock out of your tight core. “You really weren't lying when you said she gets super wet.”

“Hm, let me feel.” He hums, looking closer and dipping his fingers inside the dripping combination of your fluids. 

Mark widens his nostrils and takes in the aroma of Haechan’s cum mixed in with your juices, his eyes flashing blood red. 

It’s unfamiliar and vaguely off putting to smell his mate has been violated and fucked open by another alpha. Although, overall, the dominant sensation coursing through Mark is arousal, turned on by the thought of sharing your body. 

“Nah, man. It gets worse, you’ll see. Her heat hasn’t even peaked yet.”

Mark addresses Haechan like you aren’t even here. To be fair though, during your heat you’re not all here anyways. 

“W-worse?” you eke.

“By the end of her last heat, she had so much fucking cum in her, I don’t know where it was all going.”

 “Ha, we got ourselves a little cum dumpster here,” Haechan snickers, sliding his fingers inside your cum dribbling cunt again.

With such an overflowing amount of slick and cum, if someone told you that the obscene squelching that fills the room is a soundbite from some high quality pornography, you wouldn’t doubt it. You croon as he curls them up just right, taking a moment to stimulate your most sensitive spot skillfully. 

He retracts them sooner than you’d prefer and brings his fingers to your mouth. “Suck.” 

A fat droplet falls on your bottom lip. 

Mark rubs slow, comforting circles over your abdomen. “Go ahead, baby,” he encourages, leaning down to suckle on your neglected bud. 

Earning Mark’s blessing, you obediently suck your own berry wetness and Haechan’s cum off of the alpha’s fingers.

“God, what a filthy slut,” he says once you’ve fulfilled his wish. “She gives in so easily, she’d do anything to get another load of cum.” 

A weak sound of protest weasels up the back of your throat, disagreeing with the term he used to describe you. You expect Mark to disagree with his best friend’s crude statement, but he shockingly does the opposite.

“Tell me about it, dude. The whole time she’s always begging for a knot and more cum. I know a lot of omegas beg in the middle of their heat…” 

Mark pets your head gently for a second, then snakes his fingers into your hair, giving it a brief yank. 

If you weren’t on the precipice of your heat hitting full force, his sudden action would’ve caused you a decent amount of pain. But by now, your aching body welcomes any form of touch – the rougher the better. The demeaning terms trigger strobing excitement inside you.

“…but with y/n, it’s like where did my sweet omega go? Who’s this needy cumslut?” 

Your bottom lip quivers, internally conflicted by your budding arousal. Mark looks down at you with pity in his eyes.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, “don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying it to be mean, I’m just telling the truth. You don’t know what it’s like trying to take care of you.”

You whine softly, your foggy emotional state making you feel guilty, even if the fraction of you that’s still of sober mind knows that you have nothing to feel guilty for. The seeds of insecurity take root in your head, questioning if he secretly resents being with you, if you’re too much of a burden that he wishes he wasn’t your alpha.

Mark reads the emotional turmoil brewing on your precious face. In an effort to soothe the distress, he quickly leans over to kiss it away. A handful of adoring pecks down your face, lips lightly kissing your forehead twice, the tip of your nose and finally to your lips. He is much gentler now than the hand responsible for the arousing sting to your scalp. Mark tastes the other alpha on your mouth and grins anyway.

“I don’t want you to feel bad about it, y/n.” He again brushes a few stray tears away from where they spill from the corners of your wide, glossy eyes. “I just wanna make sure you’re well taken care of this time.”

“Even without you, I can take care of myself well enough,” you sniffle, lying through your teeth, fooling no one, not even yourself. 

Your hand twitches, wanting to prove a point but hesitating because you're not used to being watched by two sets of eyes. 

“Go ahead and touch yourself, princess. I know you want to,” Mark tells you.

“R-really? Like, um…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “...in front of him too?” 

You sneak a glance at Haechan, who, by the looks of it, is about ready to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole any second now. You vaguely remember wanting him to do so not too long ago in your most fuzzy heated state.

“Yes, in front of me and Haechan.” 

“Aw, sweetheart. I just fucked your pretty cunt and yet you still feel embarrassed?” Haechan pouts in mock sympathy. “That’s adorable.”

Mark exchanges a look with his best friend before turning back to you. “Be a good girl for me and demonstrate how you used to do it before we met. You can do that, right, babe?” 

An adoring smile reaches his lips, eyes locking with yours. You could try to deny the lewd act, but above all else, you want to please your alpha. 

Mark wants you to be a good girl, and that is exactly what you will be. You gulp, releasing a shaky sigh, and nodding timidly. Your mouth twitches up to mirror his sincere smile as best as you can manage.

“That’s my girl,” Mark beams.

Mark knows how to comfort you, pushing two fingers into your mouth to give you something to wrap your lips around. He gently cups the back of your hand and guides it lower while you’re pleasantly suckling.  

You tilt back, propping your upper body up by extending your left hand behind your back. Folding your spread legs up and planting your heals on the edge of the wide black lab table, exposing your throbbing cunt to the alphas. 

You trace your fingers through your folds, rimming your freshly used entrance before sliding two of them inside, moaning around Mark’s fingers as you follow his instructions. 

Muscle memory of touching yourself on a frequent basis over the years takes charge, and within seconds, you locate your weak spot. 

“There you go. Good girl.”

You mewl, your legs trembling every so often as you draw your fingers up to stimulate your clit. The muscles in your face are equally as prone to a visceral jumpy reaction as your lower half is. 

Craving more, you lay your upper body back against the table, and switch hands to curl your left fingers in your abused pussy and rub quick circles over the hood of your clit, stroking up and down to stimulate every nerve around the electrifying spot. 

“M-mar…” you whimper, drool trailing from your stuffed mouth. “Fuck-fuck me. Please, I n-need your cum now.”

Mark bestows a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “How about you show me how bad you want it, eh?”

You hop off the table and lower to your knees obediently, folding your legs underneath you and sitting back on your feet, hands placed flat on your thighs, spine arched to show the round curve of your ass.

Haechan whistles. “You sure did train her well.”

“Nah, man. y/n didn’t need training. She’s just a perfect omega.” Mark smiles, happy to show you off. He pets your head as you start to squirm and quietly whimper. 

“Open your mouth, baby.” 

You part your lips, holding your tongue out to catch the spit that falls from Mark’s mouth. He hums, approvingly, watching you swallow it and open your mouth again. He pauses for a second before flicking his chin at Haechan. 

“You want Haechan’s spit too?”

You glance at Haechan and release an affirmative noise a second later. Your core aches for further rough filling again. You rub your slippery thighs together, feeling more slick gush from your throbbing pussy, increasingly aroused when Haechan steps up to the plate. 

He lets a string of saliva dangle from his tongue, slowly dripping into your mouth, and partially dribbling down your chin intentionally, simply because he wants to make a mess of your pretty face.

You're about to wrap your lips around Mark’s cockhead when all of a sudden, the sharpest pain stabs your abdomen. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, crumpling into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut, and nearly blacking out. 

Mark kneels down and rubs your shoulder, lifting your head to look you square in the face. Worry colors his sharp features and shatters the heated, public pornographic fantasy. 

“Shit. y/n’s cramps usually subside for an hour or so after getting a knot,” he mutters to Haechan. “I didn’t want to do this…but I don’t think we have much of a choice now…”

[hint for pt 2]

additional warnings: dr jaem thorough exam, double penetration, spitroasting, oral (fem & male), face sitting, throat fucking, choking, somnophilia, squirting, sex toys, nipple play and breast milking. alright, i think that's it.

it’s 2023.

why did it take me this fucking long to write markhyuck x yn ?? i said i’d write for this pairing in FEB 20 FUCKING 21.

sorry for not posting in forever. the #1 motivation for writers is feedback and interaction. for me, knowing people enjoy my works and appreciate the time i put into something has a huge impact. i'd be really grateful if you shared this by giving it a reblog and would love to see you spam your thoughts/reactions in the tags or comments!

[oct 12th, 2024 update]

pt 2 is about 80% done. now, i'm not saying i WON'T post it in the next week, but comments, reblogs and feedback would definitely inspire me to finish it up soon<3

okay 'tis all. thank you for reading and i hope you (yes, specifically YOU, beloved reader of mine who's reading this RIGHT NOW !) are doing well:))

stream 127's *FACT CHECK*

➾my masterlist

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[sleepynoons]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU BY MARIAH CAREY– neuvillette (genshin) x afab!f!reader, nsfw / 18+

genre – fluff, smut word count – ~3,100 warnings – age gap, lingerie, oral (receiving), fingering synopsis – it's your first winter with neuvillette, and where you grew up, it's customary to celebrate by exchanging presents, eating delicious food, and spending quality time with loved ones. even though neuvillette is overwhelmed with work at the moment, you're excited to surprise him.

Neuvillette is known for his lack of personal greed, with the exception of his indisputable particular taste for certain flavors of water. Because of his asceticism, intentional or not, it had been difficult for the two of you to enter the relationship you now are in, but with the incredible aid and full support of the Melusines, the Chief Justice finally distinguished your feelings of likeness separate from others of friendliness and sociability.

To his end, though, you are known for your intensity, speech sharp with judgment, gaze watchful and vigilant, pen always in hand, scribbling away at a new manuscript or op-ed for The Steambird. Originating from Sumeru, you had been well aware of the turmoil brewing within the Akademiya, and managed to flee, even with such knowledge, to Fontaine. Here, you have been able to continue your studies from where you left off, as well as pursue your own endeavors in writing, which had long been restricted when you were a student. In fact, it was precisely due to one of your well-received yet controversial pieces in the newspaper that had landed you an opportunity to interview Neuvillette and ask him questions on questions regarding his thoughts on governance, the limitations of rule and government, and checks and balances.

You intended it to be a one-off instance, fully knowing that the Chief Justice is incredibly busy. However, you had a bad habit of losing track of time, and he is more than happy to speak in length, and your first conversation did not end on a fulfilling thought. As a result, for several months on end, you would spend two hours every three weeks with Neuvillette, which, by then, it was more than obvious you had developed intimate feelings for him.

Of course, even though you two are now a couple, the dynamics of your schedule have not differed by much. Neuvillette still has a limited amount of time to see you, though it is permissible for you to make more spontaneous visits to his office, if you are so inclined. But being the studious writer that you are, you still have not acted upon this privilege yet.

“You really should take up more of his time!”

You squint your eyes over the rim of the teacup that you are sipping from, taking several moments to think of a proper response. A part of you is still ruminating over the last draft of your manuscript, something you have been losing sleep over to make it in time for the deadline for The Streambird’s short story contest at the end of the month, but you know you should be more focused on the conversation at hand. After all, while Miss Furina is beloved by the people and is commonly seen out and about, it is still rare for her to request a private audience with someone as little of importance socially, politically, economically as you are.

“Miss Furina, I’m not sure I follow?” is the best you can manage. You take another sip as the celebrity huffs in disappointment.

“How trite! It has been so long since my last visit to the Palais Mermonia, yet even I’ve been made aware of Neuvillette’s situation! Please tell me you at least know of that!”

You open your mouth to release a hum of agreement. “Yes,” you say, “though I am not sure what his condition has to do with his schedule? Wouldn’t it be more advisable for him to go rest, instead of having me bother him?”

“You are incredibly dull, my friend.” 

You nod slowly, noting in your head that she is sassier than she lets on, easily overpowered by her stage presence and bright smile. Regardless, you are still not sure if you ae thinking on the same lines as she is.

Miss Furina gives you a few more seconds to think on your own, but seeing the lack of any recognition or realization on your face, she sighs before flinging three sugar cubes into her tea with exasperated movements. She then grumbles, “Neuvillette does not rest until the Melusines kowtow and beg. Could you not at least help save them some face and demand of him to rest a day or two?”

You watch as the sugar begins to dissolve into the tea. When instructed as such, there really is no harm in doing so. You nod again, and Furina yelps with delight, clapping her hands in a circle.

“I try my best to not get involved in his affairs anymore, but perhaps this is just my way of slowly repaying his efforts. Anyway, I need to carry on with the rest of my day. Good luck, friend, and cheers to your union!”

You realize you did not ask the more glaring questions of this conversation. You are not sure how Miss Furina knows of your relationship with the Chief Justice in the first place, or why you are the one settling the bill for lunch. You shrug as you wipe at your mouth with a tissue, thinking of ways to convince your partner on stepping away from his impending cases for at least a few hours.

The solution comes quite easily, frankly speaking. In part of your intense and serious attitude, you are also associated as being very independent, so when you send a note to Neuvillette requesting his assistance later in the evening, he replies immediately in complete compliance. That way, you did not have to risk interrupting him in the midst of his work, while still satisfying Miss Furina’s plea.

In reality, though, you only got lucky because you had happened to remember today’s date. You do not quite recall how you thought of it – it could have been a street sign or a poster that you spotted from your periphery –, but the whole point is that this day used to be very important to you as you grew up. Though you are not upset or even the slightest bit nostalgic, you think it is the perfect excuse to save your partner from undue stress and cacophony.

Thus, you make your way to several shops before returning home with two small boxes and a bag in your hands. There are a few more hours before Neuvillette is to arrive, so you shuffle all of the scattered loose leaf paper into haphazard stacks and stuff your ballpoint pens into your drawers to make room on your desk to wrap the presents you bought.

–

When your partner comes, it is already dark, overcast with dense clouds that pour incessantly. He knocks at your door just as you are stoking the flames in your fireplace, and you pace over to let him in.

You open the door to a very concerned Chief Justice.

“Are you alright?” are his first words.

You cannot help but feel guilty at deceiving your partner.

You place a hand on his arm, which he returns with the same gesture, and you rub soothing circles into the fabric of his coat. “Yes, I managed to figure it out.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to revise your draft? I am more than willing to, might you think my input may be necessary.”

With gentle tugs, you lead him to your rounded dining table for two, where there are already steaming mugs of tea settling on their matching saucers, and the two of you take your usual seats across from each other.

You feel no need to keep up your lie. “My sincere apologies, Neuvillette, but there’s actually no manuscript you need to help with. The Melusines had specifically asked of me to find a way to extract you from your work, lest you become glued to your chair.” You leave out any mentions of Miss Furina out of respect for her privacy.

“Ah, I see.”

You observe his face, careful for even the faintest of shifts or twitches to anticipate his reactions. But Neuvillette’s impartiality should never be underestimated, and his expression does not change at all.

“Are you upset?” you ask.

He glances at you, having previously been staring into his cup. “Uh, no, I… I suppose I have been dealing with a torrent of work. I apologize for having concerned all of you.”

You set your hands out, and Neuvillette holds them in his palms. You admire the feel of his gloves against your bare skin and watch as he thumbs over your calloused fingers.

You finally manage to hum, “No worries. Though, I have a few things I want to give you, so your visit’s not entirely a waste.”

His grip tightens. “It is never a waste. Forgive me, for neglecting us.”

You chuckle before slipping your hands out of his hold, and patter over to the wrapped presents that sit on the floor to the side of the fireplace.

“Here,” you say, as you set the gifts in front of him.

“What occasion are these for?” he asks, eyes glimmering with fascination. You have always loved Neuvillette’s eyes. While his face may be as set as stone, at times, you can tell fragments of his thoughts by the color and brightness in his eyes.

You have not told him much about your upbringing, and you do not feel inclined to dwell on it tonight either. So, in the briefest way possible, you explain, “When I was growing up, every year on this day, the community I was a part of would exchange gifts. There was also a large feast, with plenty to eat and drink.” You give a light shrug before finishing, “I just thought it would be nice to share a bit of my past with you.”

“I understand,” he replies, eyes and tone soft and gentle. “I’m afraid your presents will have to wait for next year.”

You know time means nothing to him, but his words still melt the rough, unromantic edges within you. You smile to yourself as you watch him unwrap the pen and bejeweled brooch you had bought him. Finally, when he moves onto the bag, you laugh as you see him tear away his gaze before shakily handing you the box from inside.

“This, um, seems to be yours.”

You release an intrigued noise before nudging the box back toward him. “It is still a present for you.”

“How so?” Neuvillette’s cheeks and ears are tinged with a warm red, and you are sure it is not solely because of the fire.

You get up from your chair, round over to his side, and stand beside him. “I forgot to mention,” you tease, “but this day’s particularly special for couples. They celebrate together, spend time together, and… need I say more?”

You and Neuvillette have slept together before, though the number does not exceed single digits despite the two of you having been together for a little less than a year. Such occurrences are usually a result of your or his feverish desires exceeding a certain boiling point, and you suppose this time, you are the insatiable one.

“Look inside,” you instruct with a flick of your chin. “Do you like it?”

Folded neatly inside the box is a red satin tank top and sleep shorts. The color shines brilliantly under the flickering of the flames, and you appreciate the contrast of it against the purple and indigo of Neuvillette’s eyes.

“Yes, o-of course. I’m sure it suits you well,” he mumbles, blush flushing deeper and deeper with every passing second.

You pat his shoulder. “Perfect. I’ll change in the bathroom, so wait for me on the bed.”

If it was really up to you, you would not even change in a separate room. But, for the sake of your easily flustered partner, you show him some mercy and grant him no more than two minutes of reprieve. As Neuvillette said, the set does fit you, in ways other than just size, and you are glad you decided to go the extra length to splurge on lingerie, as it is also a treat for yourself.

When you enter your bedroom, barely concealing the skip in your step, you see Neuvillette seated on the corner of your bed, unmoving. You doubt he has barely even breathed since you left him alone.

“Neuvillette?”

His head shoots up at your call of his name, but he fails to respond. His eyes, which were staring holes into the ground a mere second ago, are now drinking in the sight of you in your new clothes. They linger at the exposure of your neck and collarbones, the outline of your breasts, the flare of the top around your waist, and the contrast of the shorts’ red sheen against the suppleness of your thighs. You find yourself almost feeling shy at his undivided attention, and you rock on your feet, waiting for him to make a move.

Neuvillette only breaks out of his reverie once he has looked over your entirety. “You look mesmerizing,” he praises. He makes it sound like a truth, a new law he has amended into Fontaine’s books, something everyone should know and accept by now. It is your turn to shudder and lose your composure at his words, so you do not even try to respond, and instead, walk over to stand in front of him.

However, he quickly switches your positions, gliding you over to sit and him kneeling between your knees. He presses fleeting kisses on the inners of your knees, before slowly traversing up the length of your right thigh, nuzzling and pressing and licking. You squirm as he sucks on your skin, and gasp at every mark he leaves.

It is unbelievable, you think. Back in Sumeru, you were constantly teased, others mocking and prophesying that you will forever spend this special day alone. Yet, you are grown now, and being lavished and indulged by another, by your lover.

You try your best not to muss Neuvillette’s hair, so you clutch onto his shoulders. Digging your fingernails into the white silk of his shirt, you barely contain your whimpers as your partner begins to approach the heat emanating between your legs. You jump once you feel him press the pad of a finger against your hole, and cannot help but moan as he kisses your clit, the satin of the shorts doing nothing to dull the sensations.

Though Neuvillette’s actions are restrained, limited to only kitten licks and playful flicks with his fingertip, your pleasure compounds at an exceptional rate. By the time he lifts you up to slide your shorts off, you have already stained much of the fabric and are continuing to leak, wetness dripping down your inner thighs and the bottom of your ass.

“Absolutely decadent,” he mumbles, gazing with much adoration and intensity at the way your legs shake and your clit trembles.

Before you can say anything, he takes your breath away as his lips close around your sensitive bud. He taps and laves his tongue against the hood, pressure just enough to choke you from pleasurable stimulation. His hands are wrapped tightly around your thighs, to hold them in place, as well as bite his nails into your skin, although you have no idea when he took his gloves off.

“Neuvillette,” you breathe out. He hums around your clit with a more forceful suck, and you reel over, hunching over his head, hands sliding down his back and crumping his shirt within your grasp. Your partner understands your reaction as a subconscious plea to move on, and so, he licks his way down to your hole. He can feel it open and close around nothing, and it is only then that he is made aware of how painfully hard he is.

You grit out, “More – please.”

He knows he cannot further deny you. He laps at your entrance, entranced by your taste, before finally pushing his tongue in.

You are warm, sweet, incredibly tight. He pulls back, draws a large breath, and dives back in, pushing himself as far in as he can. Since the very beginning, you have been very sensitive, always reacting to even the lightest and briefest of touches, so Neuvillette knows your body must be overwhelmed by everything he is doing to you. He knows this is the case when he leans back on his heels for a quick rest, and sees your face, sweat tracing your hairline and eyes glazed over. For some reason, Neuvillette finds himself growing even larger, even harder, at the sight, and he distracts himself by returning to his place between your legs.

This time, he goes faster, accompanying his tonguing with circles of his finger around your clit. He can also hear you muffling your noises with the back of your hand.

“Please, let me hear you,” he says, between movements of his mouth and hand. “I need to know that you are feeling good.”

You are so used to practicing restraint and discipline, so you hesitate at first. But when Neuvillette presses your clit in that exact way you like and tongues you so deeply, you moan out loud, giving in regardless of your own wishes. And because he is incredible, precise, with analyzing your needs, he keeps doing it, giving you what you crave and desire over and over and over again, until you are brought over the edge.

Neuvillette groans as your hole flutters around his tongue, more of your taste filling his mouth, and he drinks in whatever he can. At this point, you are holding his head against your body, almost bucking your hips to close whatever distance is left, so that you can extend your high.

By the time the two of you peel apart from each other, you are about to unzip his pants before you notice a stain. You look at Neuvillette’s face, only to find him with a flushed, euphoric expression, and you feel surprise and delight wash over you.

“We will continue tomorrow morning, if that is alright with you,” he says, a little out of breath. You, too, are still heaving, so you nod in agreement.

Back at home, this day was spent with several people under a clear night. You would all be gossiping, dancing, discussing, and by the end of it, you would exchange gifts, though for most of it, you were left to your own devices, reading storybooks in whatever dimly lit corner you could find. This time around, though it is raining outside and there is no one else besides you and Neuvillette, you think this is the best celebration you could ever have. You would not wish for anything else, as long as you have him.

winter event masterlist

[chrollogy]

v. MISUNDERSTANDINGS

miya atsumu x f!reader

series masterlist

synopsis: A drunken conversation with Atsumu leads to a cascade of events that has your mind practically exploding with endless questions, and with the way Atsumu has been acting, you want clear answers, and you’ll get them one way or another—even if it meant arguing in the twins’ shared apartment on a late Thursday afternoon.

chapter content warning: college au, mentions of alcohol use, intoxicated characters, cockblocker suna (rip), angst, hurt/comfort, awkward tension, atsumu & reader are dumbasses, arguing, light smut (mdni; nothing too explicit), nsfw, implied unprotected s*x, fluff towards the end yay, kita graduates from uni!, mutual pining, slow burn, requited unrequited love, friends to lovers, not beta read.

word count: 6.1k

notes: AAACKKKK last chapter!! also happy 1 month to this series !! i’m surprised i got to finish this in less than 2 months lmao considering how slow i am w writing :< divider: cafekitsune.

Light. Everything felt light—your head, body, voice, heart.

It felt like all the weight of your shoulders had been lifted, and you could be as carefree as a bird soaring through cerulean skies to be one with the wind. Because right this very moment, nothing mattered at all, not even the fact that you stood before the person you’ve been trying to avoid since the new year rolled around.

Tucked neatly at the back of your mind like a silent reminder, you knew you shouldn’t trust your intoxicated self right now—whether it be your thoughts or feelings but the urge to stop wasn’t there, and you felt extremely optimistic about this—all thanks to the burning alcohol that clouded every bit of your judgement.

Everything felt right.

As you met his caramel gaze, your vision tunnelled, everyone, and everything that surrounded both of you slowly turned into nothing but a mix of hazy hues, upbeat music that spilled from the speakers fading into the distance as you, and Atsumu entered your own world—even the orange-haired male with the bright, doe eyes melted away from your view.

Just you, and Atsumu, exactly how it was supposed to be.

With a bated breath, Atsumu wordlessly nodded, and awaited your next move, as if shackled in a hazy trance. He was fully aware of the thundering heartbeat that rang in his ears, the way his slender fingers ever so slightly dug into the scarlet plastic cup in his hand, cheeks burning with unexplainable emotions.

“Let’s talk somewhere else.”

It took all the effort for Atsumu to ignore the feeling of your bare skin against his, the searing touch of your fingers around his wrist as you hurriedly whisked him away into the intimate space of their kitchen, as if to shield you both from everyone else’s prying eyes. Despite a stained judgement, the blonde was sure no one gave a single damn if you were to talk it out in the living room, everyone was in their own buzz anyway.

Nonetheless, Atsumu let you take the lead, whatever you wanted, he obliged. As though he was floating on cloud nine, his body became lighter with each step taken, head lightly spinning, warmth that radiated from your palm seeped into his flushed skin, prickly, miniature kisses engulfing his body.

“I’m okay now.” Resting your lower back against the ivory granite countertops, you stare up at Atsumu through your lashes, not noticing your lingering fingers curled around his wrist. For a brief moment, your breath hitched, stomach churning at the sight before you. The lighting behind Atsumu made him look like absolute heaven, flaxen strands glowing like the first rays beneath the warm illuminant, casting an ethereal halo at the back of his head. It didn’t help how he stared down as if your eyes held the cosmos in them, completely awestruck.

Whatever, you chalked it up to his intoxicated state. What else could it have been?

For a brief moment, Atsumu wracked his brain for context behind your words, and as the invisible lightbulb atop his head switched on, he was reminded of the situation at hand. It definitely pulled his consciousness into sobriety. Just a tad bit.

“A-are y’sure?” A breathless, almost dainty whisper slipped past his rosy lips. He took note of the way your gaze shifted ever so slightly downwards, eyes crudely lingering on the plush of his bottom lip as his tongue briefly swiped against it.

Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bobbed at your not-so-subtle stare, stomach churning with want. He knew this feeling all too well—it visited him whenever he was alone in his room, mind wandering over to thoughts of you which filled every corner of his mind; sometimes the feeling was too strong, other times he could bear it. Tonight, though, Atsumu wasn’t sure if he was immune to this feeling, let alone erase any impulsive thoughts from his intoxicated mind.

What pulled you into this decision was something you’d never figure out; maybe it was the fact that your yearning heart grew tired of the icy distance between the two of you or maybe you’ve truly come to terms with his unreciprocated feelings—you didn’t know. All you knew was that nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations, especially when it involved feelings. But this could be an exception, right?

“So . . Does that mean we can be friends again?”

It was weird. Atsumu’s voice brimmed with a sense of hope—as if he’s been waiting for this very moment for the past two weeks—but the strange glint in his caramel eyes betrayed the blonde entirely.

Despite your better judgement, you chalked it up to the warm light that casted a soft shadow upon his features; maybe you were too dizzy to see things clearly, or maybe you were looking too deep into Atsumu’s expression—hoping to find some sort of sadness upon hearing your decision to move on, and accept his rejection.

Atsumu watched as your eyes traced his features, closely observing them as if to find some kind of answer; as selfish as it seemed, the intensity in your eyes gave him a tinge of hope that perhaps you could let yourself pine over him just a little longer because he wasn’t sure what he’d do with the knowledge that your heart would no longer yearn for him.

The situation was a double-edged sword, really.

You let out a puff of breath, “Yeah, of course. We’re friends again.” Friends. That word should have given you more relief than sorrow but could you really blame yourself? It felt like a bitter reminder of cold rejection which resembled salt pressed against an unhealed wound, a searing itch that left your skin feverish.

Even if it meant selling yourself short.

Avoiding his eye contact, you swiftly unwound your fingers from his wrist, mentally cursing yourself for not noticing any sooner. A cold embrace engulfed Atsumu’s wrist, where your fingers were mere seconds ago, he tried his best to ignore how his body yearned for your warmth. He gave a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

For a moment, you stood in each other’s silence like two predators sizing up one another, eagerly waiting for one’s move before pouncing, the silent hum of the fridge making up for the lack of conversation between one another.

How strange, this agreement should have cleared the unsettled air between you, and Atsumu but why did it feel like the complete opposite? As if the air turned into something more uncertain. You both knew you could feel the uncanny tension rising up, up, up but not one dared to address it.

Swiftly burying it under the rug, Atsumu spoke, thinly slicing through your trance, “You’ll find someone better.”

God, he must’ve really matured this new year because he didn’t know how he was able to say that straight to your face. Being one to wear his heart on his sleeve, this was completely foreign for Atsumu—or maybe he just got better at masking his true emotions.

You closed your eyes upon hearing his response, as if doing so would help you brave the weight of his words. It didn’t. That was the last thing you wanted Atsumu to say to you, ‘someone better’, it was brazen of him to think so poorly of himself, as though he wasn’t that certain someone. It was entirely unfair on your end because who was Atsumu to determine which person was for you?

Even just thinking about it had you fuming, rejection was one thing but completely disregarding the reason behind your feelings for him was another because in your eyes, Miya Atsumu was that ‘someone better’; he was the one who understood you the most, the one who always looked out for you, the one you fucking wanted.

And despite your mind telling you to nod along, and suck it up, the alcohol in your body was stronger; so, you opened your eyes, and furrowed your brows at him,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“But I don’t want anyone better, Tsumu. I want you.”

Atsumu’s eyes widened, the desperation in your voice was something he hadn't heard before, it definitely pulled at his heart, guilt gnawing at his skin for being the sole reason for your drunken actions. He may be drunk but he wasn’t stupid, Atsumu knew you should’ve kept that one to yourself, he could practically see you brimming with temerity but he’d be lying to himself if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat or two.

I want you, too. God, he wanted to say it back badly. The words were lodged in his throat, unable to slip past his lips despite the best efforts to do so.

It dawned on him—right then, and there—the severity of your feelings for him, the immense weight of it. Now, guilt really ate him away; he could only imagine how the past two weeks were for you. Did you cry while thinking about him?

That was the last thing Atsumu wanted.

Though, amidst the guilt, something else blossomed in his chest, it made him feel like he stood upon the highest pedestal. Atsumu didn’t know whether it was pride or greed; as fucked up as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to push the impulsiveness away as though you’ve infected him with your own. His heart hammered at a thought that formed in his mind, even just thinking about it stirred his chest.

Despite Atsumu’s better judgement, he held onto the feeling with a tight grip, and opened his mouth, tongue nervously swiping at the bottom lip,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“Is . . Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?”

You sucked in a breath, heart pounding at Atsumu’s sudden confession. If you were sober, you’d have a million thoughts racing through your mind right now, questioning the feelings he really had for you but unfortunately, only one thing was on your mind—how badly you wanted to kiss Atsumu too.

Dragging yourself further down, down, down the void of uncertainty, you shook your head in a daze,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“What if I say I want to kiss you, too?” 

Barely audible but Atsumu heard it just fine over the pounding of his heart, over the incoherent conversations beyond this kitchen, over the muted bass music because as long as it's you, he’d always listen, even if it meant drowning out the entire world.

Then, there was a heartbeat, a passing second, a dip of a finger to test undisturbed waters; the funny thing was that even a minute disturbance could cause a ripple effect for miles, and miles, awakening the dormant creatures that lay beyond the azure surface.

It was swift, as though Atsumu had been waiting for this very moment to happen—one second you were locked in a trance, the next his lips were pressed against your own, a shared warmth of intimacy searing both bodies in an eternal blaze like a blue flame that dangerously destroyed everything in its path.

Shy. Warm. Soft. Rosy. Like it was meant to be. The list could go on, and on but it was as though your thoughts came quickly before your mind could register them, leaving you in a white, empty haze. With the plastic cups long forgotten on the counter behind, you closed your eyes as Atsumu’s body eagerly pressed against yours, strong arms coming up to rest on the granite countertop behind you, fingers digging into the material to ground himself.

For a moment, everything was still, lips unmoving against each other, a time to bask in this newfound intimacy—the foreignness of one another’s body. The earth felt like it spun on its axis way faster than usual, as if day, and night merged to become one; hues of late dusk, and early dawn intertwined like your bodies.

Bitterness from Atsumu’s rosy lips lingered on your own; you never liked the taste of beer but oddly enough, you didn’t mind it at all.

Your hands cupped Atsumu’s jaw, fingers gently digging onto his soft skin, eager for more as your lips moulded together. Slowly moving his mouth against your own, you followed suit to match the sensual pace he had set, falling deeper, and deeper between the hazy boundaries of friendship, and something a little more. Low whimpers slipped past between each feverish kiss as a drunken greed gradually controlled your bodies.

The initial softness of the kiss dissipated as each second passed, slowly turning into something more carnal, and passionate—breaths becoming heavier, and faces eagerly pressed against one another, angled in a way to grant more access.

Was this what cloud nine felt like? Exhilarating? Euphoric? As though there was no one else—

“Oh!—Holy shit. Did I interrupt?”

A familiar voice violently pulled you, and Atsumu back into reality, swiftly jumping away from each other’s hold, and looking over to the owner of the voice. Suna. The brunette stared at both of you—looking like a deer caught in headlights, chests heaving—his expression was unreadable, almost like a mix of shock, and amusement. You, and Atsumu kissing in the kitchen was absolutely not in his new year bingo card.

Well, this encounter certainly was enough to strip you into sobriety.

Your head spun a little, lungs severely deprived of oxygen. Shame, and realisation settled deep in your bones—shame because Suna just caught you, and Atsumu almost sucking the soul out of each other, and realisation because everything about this whole situation was so wrong; a million questions formulated in your mind as each awkward second passed.

On the other hand, Atsumu was equally as horrified, albeit annoyed that he didn’t have the chance to kiss you longer. The thrumming of his heart pounded in his ears, his mind trying to come up with anything to say just to stop the thoughts formulating in Suna’s mind—oh, he knows that look on his friend’s face very well.

Your view became obstructed by the expanse of Atsumu’s back, a subtle attempt to block you from the brunette’s gaze.

“W-what the hell, Suna?! Don’t jus’ barge into the kitchen, ya scrub!” Atsumu tried his best to act tough but miserably failed with the shakiness in his voice betraying him.

As if to make matters worse, Suna didn’t back down, a smug look painted on his flushed face as the blonde shamelessly blamed him,

“Well, how was I supposed to know that you two were sucking each other’s faces in the kitchen?!”

Did he have to word it like that?

Atsumu opened, and closed his mouth, trying to think of ways to deny Suna’s accusations but his mind went blank, even with just the brunette mentioning your kiss had him blushing like a mad man. Silence yet again occupied the kitchen, low bass music spilled from the speakers, and incoherent chatters from beyond the space making up for the lack of conversation.

Before the situation could get even more awkward, you spoke up, “I . . think I’m just going to go . . ” This gained both their attention, carefully watching as you navigated past Atsumu, and out the kitchen.

The blonde watched as you staggered past him, and Suna; he wanted to go after you, and talk about what just happened but the soles of his feet stayed rooted on the ground, too heavy to lift, even the words he wanted to say were lodged in his throat.

So, Atsumu decided it was best to let you go.

Monday. 

Everyone’s enemy but also a day to gather around the campus coffee shop with friends, and be productive for a while. The calming aroma of coffee engulfed your senses; low chatter from other customers, faint jazz music, and the occasional hum of the coffee machine filled the table from the lack of conversation. Despite the café’s light ambience, it didn’t do much to hide the growing tension that surrounded the group, specifically you, Atsumu, and Suna.

Kita was the first to notice the subtle shift of aura that emanated from you three, especially after catching a glimpse of Suna’s narrow eyes trailing from you to Atsumu over his laptop screen; though, he had much more things to worry about than to indulge himself in whatever tomfoolery this was. He’d ask questions later.

On the other hand, Osamu was more than curious, especially after his older twin started acting out of character—Atsumu wasn’t one to engulf himself in thoughts to the point where he’d be staring at an inanimate object, in a complete daze but lately, Osamu has seen him behave as such.

The latter could practically feel the weight of awkwardness pressing against his skin as he subtly watched the three of you. Of course, he did his best to pry off information from the blonde only to no avail; Osamu didn’t know why Suna was even caught up in this but he suspected it was from the party a few days ago.

He remembered seeing you stumble out of the kitchen when he was on his way to grab more drinks from their fridge, the younger twin thought nothing of it until he was met with Suna, and Atsumu awkwardly standing in the kitchen. Normally, Osamu would’ve asked questions that night but the alcohol in him couldn’t care less about the situation.

Staring at the untouched document pulled up on your laptop, you ducked behind your screen to avoid Suna’s wandering gaze, and Osamu’s not-so-subtle curiosity. This was hell. You didn’t even know why you decided to turn up today after that shit show at the party—maybe because you thought you could shove down that memory especially after telling Atsumu that you were fine or maybe you craved the closeness you two once had, and now you were here to rebuild that.

As easy as it sounded, you feared it might not be so with the way Atsumu has been avoiding you like the plague. First, it started when you walked into the café at the same time as the twins, Osamu greeted you at the door before heading inside leaving you, and Atsumu outside. Now, that would’ve been fine if the latter didn’t make a show of taking a couple of steps back to let you go first as though you carried some kind of incurable disease.

The second time was when Atsumu realised the only vacant seat was next to your own, thus, asking to swap with Osamu just so he could sit farthest away from you. And the third was when you had asked him if he was alright while waiting in line to order only to be met with a mindless nod before returning to his phone in his hand.

You tried your very best to ignore the blooming pain in your chest; sure, being sad about Atsumu possibly avoiding you was reasonable but then again, you were the one who told him you were okay now—how Atsumu decided to act after the party was beyond your control.

God but it pissed you off. Swallowing one’s pride, and making effort to rekindle a cold friendship was not an easy feat when the other doesn’t do the same. It shouldn’t work you up this much but it did, and now you were second guessing yourself that maybe it was an irrational decision to abruptly tell Atsumu that you’ve come to terms with moving on.

That night at the party, were you lying to yourself just so you could be around him again?

Whatever. It was too late to take it back anyway.

The days ahead were monotonous, and boring; you, and Atsumu remained orbiting around one another, careful not to get into each other’s path of trajectory but it was tiring. Not only did it feel like navigating through eggshells while he was around but the constant questions from your friends tested your limits. Though, it wasn’t their fault for simply being curious, and getting left in the dark about the whole situation but the prying felt like endless jabs of sharp needles along your skin.

From their point of view, you, and Atsumu were stubborn about the whole situation. None dared to speak up about it, acting as though everything was fine, so your friends were left with very little to work with.

It felt like a game of cat, and mouse where you were the feline chasing Atsumu around. The longer the days dragged on, the more thoughts formulated in your mind, and they all involved the blonde in some way or another. And just like everyone else, you had your limits too; you were tired of Atsumu acting like a stubborn idiot.

When you confessed to Atsumu, sure, you expected an awkward phase but this was even worse. There wasn’t just distance between the two of you, it felt like you were strangers.

He was known for brashly saying the sharp truth, so why couldn’t he be straightforward with you? Was he disgusted by the kiss, and deeply regretted it? Did he think you were weird? You didn’t know, but you were bound to find out even if it meant knocking at the twin’s apartment door at 5:45 PM on a cold, rainy Thursday.

With the sun hidden behind the looming grey clouds, the late winter afternoon was even darker; the roads were packed with vehicles while the sidewalks occupied students, and company workers alike trying their best to shield themselves from the heavy downpour. Despite the streets being illuminated with a tinge of warm yellow from cars, and streetlights, it did nothing to brighten up the gloomy day.

Funny, it was as though the universe knew how you felt today.

“If yer lookin’ for ‘Samu, he won’t be back until 8 PM.” Greeted with Atsumu’s shocked face as the ivory door to their apartment opened, you couldn’t help but visibly roll your eyes at his stubbornness. Yeah, like you’d be here at their apartment looking for Osamu—you knew each of their timetables like the back of your hand.

Flaxen strands that sat atop his head were unruly, a sign that he must’ve been taking a nap sometime ago. Atsumu donned a light blue hoodie paired with black sweats; you tried your best not to ogle the man, after all, you were here for a sensible talk.

“I’m here for you, Miya.”

Atsumu gripped the metal handle a little tighter, the coolness of it seeping into the warmth of his skin. He tried not to flinch at the sudden formality of the conversation. Nonetheless, the blonde pulled the door wider, a wordless invite to their humble space. Giving him a small smile before walking inside, you tried not to think about the last time you were here, and how you found yourself drunkenly kissing Atsumu in their kitchen.

The sound of the door closing shut behind Atsumu reverberated throughout the walls of their apartment, followed by a deafening silence. Met with his honeyed stare, you awkwardly coughed, and played with the hem of your jacket, “I’m not going to take up too much of your time . . but I do just have one question.”

There was a momentary silence as Atsumu waited for you to proceed; he had so many questions running through his mind right now, and it took all his willpower to hold them back, and let you speak instead. It was getting harder, and harder to focus as each second passed with the pounding of his heart—Atsumu didn’t know what to expect.

“Did you—Did you regret that kiss . . ?”

Your skin burned as the question lingered in the air, a beat or two before Atsumu finally spoke up, “. . N-no, why’d ya ask?”

Sighing, impatience prickled your feverish skin. ‘Why’d you ask?’  What the hell does he mean by why would I ask? We made out for fuck sake, that’s something friends don’t do! Why is he acting so casual about it? 

“God, this just made it a lot worse. I have so many fucking questions that my mind wants to explode right now,” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you slowly paced back, and forth, the floors beneath silently creaking with each step. So, Atsumu didn’t regret the kiss but he’s acting like you’re strangers—fucking hell, why did he even kiss you in the first place?!

Your mind was a complete mess.

Trying to calm yourself down with slow, deep breaths, you decided to address the elephant in the room first, “Then why have you been avoiding me, Atsumu?—I’m sorry but I’m the one who got rejected, I cannot think of any reason why you should be avoiding me like this.” Atsumu hated that look on your face—the desperation, the sadness, the frustration. He never thought that he’d be the one making you feel all these negative emotions, and it pained him as much as it pained you.

Atsumu let out a sigh, carefully formulating the right words into a coherent sentence, “I’m just . . trying to be careful, okay?” His stomach dropped as your face contorted with more confusion.

Did he say something wrong?

“Careful about what, Atsumu?! You—ugh! It’s so hard to talk to you when you’re giving me all these stupidly vague answers! I’ve already told you I was fine. I don’t care anymore that you don’t like me back. I just want us to be back to normal again.”

Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to be upset. He couldn’t bear the thought of you moving on so quickly, and that’s why he’s been acting distant lately; it annoyed him how easy it was for you to talk to him like nothing happened but Atsumu knew he couldn’t tell you the reason—why couldn’t you just try, and understand his situation? Rejecting wasn’t an easy task to do, especially if it was the person he had been hopelessly pining for.

“Well—maybe things aren’t meant ta back ta normal!”

What?

You stared at him for a second, brows furrowed as you tried to comprehend his words that lingered in the cold air of their apartment. Silence engulfed the two of you, the distant sounds of Hyōgo’s late afternoon rain seeping through the slightly opened window.

“Do you feel uncomfortable around me after knowing the fact that I have feelings for you? Is that it?” “God, no—I could never feel that way.”

It took all of Atsumu’s patience not to wrap his arms around you—he wanted to hold you against him badly; that defeated look on your face broke his heart but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Maybe Atsumu was the coward after all.

“Then tell me what’s wrong, ‘Tsumu!”

“It’s hard f’me as well, y’know?!” “What is?”

Atsumu closed his eyes, the words he’s been wanting to scream at the top of his lungs lodged in his throat, threatening to slip out. A wave of adrenaline rush coursed through his veins, heart pounding like crazy with this newfound high, it made him feel as though he was invincible—as if he could say anything, and everything without a care for its consequences.

Fuck it.

“Fuck—It’s because I like ya back, okay?! I always have! And rejectin’ ya was so goddamn hard f’me because I’m still not over ya. God, I think about ya every single second, and it pains me so much because yer already movin’ on, and ‘m still stuck here.”

What?

Flabbergasted, you stared at Atsumu all wide-eyed, the thrumming of your heart becoming increasingly loud against your ears as each slow second passed. Did he just say he liked you back? As though mother nature was watching, the rain outside poured harder; sounds of droplets of heavy water against the roof filled the silent apartment, pulling you back into reality.

“Then why—If you feel the same way then why did you reject me?”

When you knocked on the door to the twins’ apartment, you expected a sincere conversation with Atsumu, not him confessing his feelings out of the blue. You were absolutely speechless—you didn’t know whether to jump for joy because he actually does like you back or whether to massage your temples from pure confusion.

“Back then during the trip, ya told me ya weren’t ready for a relationship yet, and that ya only wanted ta confess ta get rejected n’ move on. I wanted ta respect yer decision, so . .”

Flashbacks of said conversation from the trip quickly came into mind, and how you told Atsumu about not being ready for a relationship yet.

Oh.

Oh.

The weight of frustration from your shoulders slowly dissipated, the pent up annoyance you held in your heart was gone too. Suddenly, you weren’t so frustrated anymore after learning about the whole truth behind the situation. You were able to breathe better with the bad air finally cleared between you, and Atsumu.

Looking at it now, you felt absolutely silly. The whole situation turned out to be one big misunderstanding, it was almost laughable—now, you truly understood the essence of communication is key.

You let out a humourless laugh, “You’re so stupid, you know that?” Taking a few steps toward the blonde, you leaned your forehead against his chest, a hand coming up to curl into a fist to lightly hit it; a faint scent of his musky cologne lingered on the fabric of his hoodie, effectively invading your senses. Atsumu didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your torso, pulling your body flush against his before resting his chin on the crown of your head.

For a beat or two, you, and Atsumu remained in each other’s hold, basking in the cosy atmosphere. 

“Would I be more stupid if I tell ya I want ta pick up where we left off at the party?”

Before you knew it your lips were sealed in a searing kiss—this time, it felt raw, all things passionate, and eager. Hands impatiently roaming each other’s unexplored bodies, sounds of wet kisses slowly filling up the apartment. The atmosphere shifted from cosy to something more sensual, light groans, and moans slipping in between each kiss.

Your hands rested on Atsumu’s golden strands, fingers gently tugging at it as he worked his lips down the column of your neck, teeth lightly nipping at the feverish skin. Atsumu focused on a certain spot just below your ear, nipping, and sucking at it which pulled a dainty whine from your lips.

“‘T-Tsumu—Ah!” You gasped, his tongue leaving trails of goosebumps beneath its sinful licks against your skin. He cursed under his breath, the dizzying tone of your voice awakening the slumbering carnal beast that resided in his core. With each dulcet moan that slipped past your swollen lips, Atsumu became greedier, he wasn’t going to settle for mere kisses on your skin—he needed to hear more.

Pulling away from your intoxicating scent, Atsumu looked down at you with parted lips, and hooded eyes, caramel gaze clouded with nothing but pure desire. “I think we should take this ta my room.” He panted.

Nodding at his proposal, hurried footsteps padded over to his room as though each second wasted was crucial. As soon as the door behind Atsumu slammed shut, his lips were on yours once again, strong hands deftly working on the layers of clothing you wore, slowly slipping them off of you one by one; Atsumu could practically feel himself shaking with nervousness, and excitement.

Discarding your top on the wooden floor beneath, Atsumu stared wide-eyed at your torso, both hands coming up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra, earning a low moan from you. The air of the room felt cold against your skin but Atsumu’s touch was enough to ignite you.

“So beautiful . .” He absent-mindedly gasped, a lovestruck look in his honeyed eyes.

Hands eagerly tugging at the hem of his hoodie, Atsumu swiftly pulled the fabric off his torso in one movement, golden strands tousled from the action. Goosebumps formed upon his sun kissed skin, bare torso met with the cold winter air; your eyes raked Atsumu’s physique up, and down, shamelessly ogling his muscled chest in all its naked glory. God, you used to just fantasise about this, and now it was served right in front of you on a silver platter.

You decorated each other’s skin with endless love bites, sinful hues of dark red, and purple peppered along your chest, and neck. Atsumu took his sweet time to savour every bit of you—your taste, your scent, your sounds, everything. He made sure to bask in your serene beauty, the gentle glow of your bare figure before utterly devouring you like a starved animal, ravaging your purity with carnal desire.

Atsumu let himself go at the raw intimacy of your bodies, the feeling of your sweet warmth brought tears of pleasure in his eyes as he pushed, and pushed towards the newfound ecstasy you both shared. The chant of his name slipped past your lips like a sinful melody, mere fuel to the relentless drive of his hips. But Atsumu held you dearly against his naked body through it all, fingers intertwined with your own as he keenly chased both your pleasures, choked out moans of your name whispered hotly against your sensitive skin.

And as you both tipped over the edge, Atsumu didn’t fail to tell you how much he loved you in between each pathetic moan as he painted your insides white, the dizzying pleasure contorting his handsome face in pure ecstasy. You held him in your arms, nails digging crescent-shaped marks on his skin, whispering saccharine praises to him as you let go, and emptied the words of your heart.

As the gentle aftermath of the passionate exchange rolled around, Atsumu held you in his arms, hearts beating as one, and lulling you both to sleep. The last thing you heard was a faint ‘I love you’ before passing out from exhaustion.

“‘Tsumu, what did ya want for—Oh my god! What the fuck?!” 

A familiar voice abruptly pulled you, and Atsumu out of your sleep, followed by the loud bang of his door slamming shut. Muffled expletives from outside the room could be heard as you both stirred beneath the ivory sheets. “‘Tsumu, what the hell?! Ya should’ve warned me before I went into yer room!” Osamu yelled from the other side of the door.

Atsumu groaned, rubbing his face before turning to the door, “Shut yer trap! Ya should’ve knocked!” At his twin’s silence, he let out a sigh, and slung a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body before closing his eyes once again.

You let out a soft chuckle, “We really need to stop getting caught. First, Suna, and now Osamu.” Atsumu hummed in response, too sleepy to even think or form a coherent sentence. Snuggling closer to him, you closed your eyes, and went back to sleep as well.

Oh, you could get used to this.

Winter slowly turned into spring as March rolled around—the end of the academic year.

Trees that were once bare slowly blossomed with flowers, hues of yellows, and browns were replaced with endless greenery, and frigid air became more welcoming like a warm embrace. Most importantly, the cold distance between you, and Atsumu no longer existed, instead, it was replaced by fluttering heartbeats, and fluffy moments that hinted at a sweet forevermore.

“There he is! How does it feel to be a fresh graduate!” Suna whistled as Kita walked over to the group, clad in a black academic gown with a matching trencher propped neatly on his head, the golden tassel on the cap swayed with every step taken; he donned a warm smile, one hand holding his well-deserved degree.

The buzz of excitement outside the venue was high, the graduation ceremony having finished just a few minutes ago. You were all surrounded by graduands, all with heartfelt smiles on their faces as they conversed with family, and friends alike. 

As your friends fell into a merry conversation, a warm hand interlaced with your own, giving your hand a comfortable squeeze. Atsumu. Looking up at your boyfriend, he cheekily leaned into your ear, whispering an ‘I love you’ before slowly blinking at you, mirroring a cat’s action. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at his antics.

“Are you two lovebirds done, now?” Suna coughed, pulling you back into reality.

Met with amused expressions plastered on your friends’ faces, you, and Atsumu returned a sheepish smile before joining in their conversation. “Anyway, we were talkin’ about how we should celebrate Kita’s graduation. It can also serve as a treat for us for makin’ it through another academic year.” Osamu explained, earning a hum of approval from you, and Atsumu.

“How about a spring trip to Kyoto?” —

tags: @ushijimaschubbs @tsumudoll @startlitsawamura @littlemiyastars @h3art-ablaz3 @eggyrocks @integers @rrosiitas @food8me @schelamski @honeytwo @nyaaa-cat @cherribxio @aloesstuff @bontensh0e @willshebloved @yogurtkags @hyori2 @hibernatinghamster @theepitomeofswag @yawnjjunz @animesimpingismyjob @acowboykisser @rntrsuna @rjreins @prodhyuka @loonalockley @cheesypuffkins87 @kos-misch @iluvaquaphor @stunie @cathyket @empress-pug-pug @plutoxxxworld @sunawhore @jaegerfiles

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© chrollogy 2024 | don’t plagiarise, repost or steal my header.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟼

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), angst, hurt, language, mention of sexual assault (the deep, homelander)

Word Count: 5002

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You did your best to ignore Ben throughout the past week, despite the fact that you have not spoken much. Despite your immediate interruption, Ben was eager to continue his conversation with you. Furthermore, with all of the Vought business, things were becoming crazy. Not much had changed with Mindstorm, even though you and Ben continued to appear on TV every night on the news.

Ben was difficult to deal with and had a difficult personality in general. Now he was willing to get a little intimate, and he wasn't pushing you away this time, which left you confused and angry. In the past, you always pushed hard to be with him in every minute and every second, as if you were obsessed with him, even though he was occasionally distant from you when he didn't like being with you. If he had stayed as the same jerk from decades before, it would be simpler.

Actually, you were upset with yourself for allowing yourself to be affected by him. It was quite simple for him to show you compassion and behave as though he genuinely cared about you. It's highly likely that you were the most naive or stupid person to fall for him. You had admitted to him that you no longer loved him, and you weren't even ready to be honest with yourself about it. But at least you knew this: you shouldn't forget the damage that he had done to your heart since it was far more severe and strong than anything he had ever made you feel.

“Hey, it looks like you're deep in thought. Are you alright?” As you two watched a movie together, Annie asked. 

Ben, Hughie, and Butcher had gone shopping before coming back. Ben asked you to go out with them since you haven't left the house for a very long time, but even though you really wanted to go out, you refused to spend time with them, with him in fact. As much as you could hear, Frenchie and Kimiko were in their rooms playing video games.

“I wasn't,” you held your head in a mumble. “Maybe I'm just tired.”

“It seems like you're missing going out,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You know, things may be a little rough around these places, but you wouldn't be noticed. You can take in some fresh air.”

You gave her a meek grin and lied, saying, “I'm not in the mood.” You were actually itching to leave the house and breathe some fresh oxygen. It was as though you were choosing to be in a cage. “It's better to stay here until things get a bit better at least.”

“I actually don't know if it will though, but let's hope.”

Annie went on, “By the way, I'm sorry for my attitude toward you, weeks earlier. I suppose I was a little impolite, rude, and judgmental of you.”

Her abrupt admission and apology surprised you, but it also made you feel a little better. You whispered, “It's okay; I would be meaner if I were in your shoes. I am aware that trusting someone is difficult.”

“Yeah, but I feel bad about it,” she added, looking shy and placing her hands on her legs. “I should not have treated you the same way since I know how comfortable the firm is with lying to the public about you for the sake of themselves. The things I went through while I was a member of the Seven were similarly horrible. It wasn't right to judge you right away, not when I know the dynamics between the public and the firm and how it feels.” 

Her genuineness toward you made your heart melt. “It's actually not that bad. Don't let it bother you. I'm simply relieved that you don't feel the same way about me anymore.” You asked her gently, wanting to build a connection, “What have they done to you?”

She inhaled deeply, looked around the room as if she were searching for words, and then blurted out, “I am..sexually assaulted.” 

You whispered, “Oh, god,” and supportively touched her hand. “Can I ask... who?”

“I'm not sure if you've seen him on television. The Deep,” she muttered scornfully. “And Homelander is no different than him.”

“Yes, I did see him on television. Fucking bitch fish,” you mumbled. “You mean Homelander is the same as him. Is he also..?”

“Don't tell Butcher that I told you; don't actually mention it ever, but his wife was raped by Homelander.”

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief, and you were silent for a long moment.

“That is.. horrible. I have absolutely no idea what to say.” At last, you murmured, “I can't believe Vought is full of disgusting vile men,” remembering Butcher's expression when you had questioned him about Homelander. He was quite right and had his own reason.

“Yes,” Annie said in a sour tone. “No matter how many decades have passed, Vought is still the same asshole, whether you're a Supe woman or not. In actuality, they have gotten worse.”

“Leaving them behind was the right decision, and having Hughie with you is a gift.” You mentioned their relationship in an attempt to lighten the mood. “He seems like a very gentle and kind guy,” you remarked. “It's a good thing he's not supe. He has to understand who is in charge.”

Annie blushed and laughed when you brought up her lover. “Yeah, he's unlike anyone else. He's one of the key reasons I am here. I'm happy we got to meet.”

“By the way,” she muttered in a lighthearted manner. “What about Soldier Boy and you? It's obvious there is something between you two, even if I know you're going to deny it. Do you have a friends with benefits thing?” 

Confused, you asked, “What is it?”

“Well, it's just a term for people you know who have sex but continue to be friends. You don't grow any feelings or attachments for each other. It's all about sex.”

After considering the phrase she used a moment to reflect, you finally responded, “No, no, actually we are not something like that.” Leaning back in the coach, you whispered, “It's a bit complicated, actually,” as you recalled every memory you had of him. Your cheeks heated and your heart raced as you recalled the last conversation you had with him, the time you orgasmed on top of him. 

Annie may have noticed the shift in the body and smiled slyly, “It's probably not that difficult. But I had assumed that he was with the Crimson Countess. They must have been fan favorites or something.”

Annie's mention of Crimson made you uneasy. Because Ben had chosen her over you, knowing she was gone didn't provide you any comfort. You felt awful, thinking back on those dreadful times and how badly Ben had broken your heart. It was difficult to embrace such memories. 

You murmured, “We were a thing,” and acknowledged it. “Before Countess joined Payback.”

She just exclaimed, “Oh,” in an astonished tone, after realizing what you meant. “He's a vile asshole.”

“Yeah,” was all you said. “So, we are no longer a thing. Until that situation gets solved, I'm just going to hide like this, like a submissive rat. I don't want to deal with anything, but I'm not sure what to do after. Though I sincerely hope you succeed in eliminating the Seven—especially those bastards—I no longer want to be a part of it. I hope you can understand my reasons.”

“Obviously, you don't have to participate in anything or do anything, but your strength and assistance would be really helpful. It will be simple to make amends after Homelander dies, and you'll be free. I only hope Soldier Boy can kill him off. If not, we're not even sure what to do.”

“He made a deal with Butcher and promised him to kill Homelander.” You were aware of Ben's strength, and you could not see any other Supe being able to damage or beat him. “Once he made up his mind for something, Ben never stops until he gets it done.” 

Annie responded, "That's a relief," and she smiled a little. "Hey, let's not miss the movie," she murmured, gazing at the TV.

You nodded and offered her a feeble smile. You quickly grabbed your phone off the pillow when you noticed a notification, glancing at Annie as she got back to eating popcorn and watching TV.

Naturally, it was Ben who sent the message.

“?Do you need something????”

How considerate.

After giving Annie one more look, you leaned back on the coach to take up a more comfortable position.

You typed, “No.” after giving it some thought and then waited for another notification.

He was typing, typing, typing and typing.. It was taking taking him to write something for so long you got frustrated at some point. Then you finally got another notification.

“?Sure?????”

Asshole. Instead of punching your phone, you took a long breath. Although you were itching to argue with him over the phone, you tried to divert your attention to the movie Annie was watching.

You received another notification almost five minutes later. Ben had sent a blinking eye emoji. It seemed as though he was aware of how angry you were at the moment. You let out an irate sigh, grabbed your phone, and informed Annie that you would be in your room.

With a sense of relief that your period had finally ended, you took a shower. Ben knocked on your door, which was already open, and you made a tiny sound to let him in just as you were getting out of the shower, wrapped in a short towel. 

“Hey,” he remarked in a low voice, clearing his throat and quickly shutting the door to ensure that no one would see you half naked and wet. Ben went straight to your room after learning that Annie and Hughie would be staying tonight. It surprised you that he didn't argue with them about his bedroom. “Why is your door open all the time? Someone might have saw you; you're almost naked.”

As you kept using the towel to dry your hair, you rolled your eyes at him. “If someone was watching me, I'd known it, Ben.”

“And,” you said as you raised an eyebrow. “Someone is already watching.”

Ben inhaled deeply as he searched for a way to express how you had managed to rile him up. Okay,.

“It's not the same,” he asserted in a quiet yet assured tone as he observed you discarding the towel you used to dry your hair on the bed and opening the wardrobe to find something to wear. “And why didn't you text me back?”

You muttered, “Tell me how it's different.” and glanced at him as he approached cautiously, his fingertips resting on the furniture. “And well, because I was busy.”

“You already know why,” he remarked, licking his lips as he kept examining your body. Refusing to remember your orgasm on top of him while you were just getting your period was making him hard. Considering that you had never had a period while being together for a considerable amount of time, he questioned why you would now be getting one after all this time. 

You merely replied, “No, I don't know,” hoping to provoke him just a little bit. 

He continued shamelessly, “We fucked and still get off together; that's why, baby,” and you blushed. “Though we are not very active compared to the past, which is upsetting of course.” 

You opened your lips to deny and dispute with him, but you stopped yourself after taking a deep breath. You knew he would try hard to make your cheeks blush even more. 

You found a t-shirt and some underwear, which you put on the bed while you shut the wardrobe. At last, you were able to remember Annie's comments and say, “We were friends with benefits.” 

If you were the same person today, you would actually detest the idea, but since you are more grounded in reality, you can accept the circumstances as they are. In contrast to you, he had never developed feelings for you, which proved Annie. 

“What the hell is that?” Ben asked in an angry tone. He thought your statement sounded terrible and didn't like it at all. Ben sat on your bed as you hurriedly put on your t-shirt and underwear. Ben's hard look on your bare back was palpable. 

“It means engaging in sexual activity without developing an emotional bond. You maintain your friendship while having sex nevertheless.” You essentially gave him an explanation of it as though you'd known about it for a long time. “Getting off together is included.” 

Ben winced as you described the most idiotic and stupid type of relationship as though it were the most ordinary thing imaginable. “Who taught you such stupid stuff?” He asked furiously, unable to help but feel irritated that you weren't bothered by it. 

“Annie told me about it.”

Ben groaned as he removed his shoes and lay down on your bed. “It's not shocking that an ignorant woman is bombarding your thoughts with modern nonsense. I should have known only she could say such a stupid fucking thing. That must be her relationship with Hughie. Fuck, it's not shocking that he can't open his mouth while he is with her. What a fucking weak pussy.”

“Oh, god, don't talk about them in this way. Ben, they have a connection, a real one, a healthy one,” you murmured as he spoke in the most irritating tone imaginable. It was annoying that he didn't even take into account the nature of your previous relationship. “For the record, he is not concealing his relationship with Annie and vice versa. She really did walk out of the Seven. The company most likely had no approval of their relationship.”

“Touché,” he replied, observing your face fall as you sat on the bed and cast a dejected glance in his direction. He continued, “But our relationship was... health too,” when you turned away from him and lay down in bed.

You mumbled, “Sure,” and settled up in bed as comfortably as possible. Ben's huge and strong body was covering the majority of already limited space. It took a lot of work to stay away from him. 

Ben sighed as he watched your back longingly and heard your slow, deep breathing, as if you were holding back all you wanted to say. He was prepared to start over, make adjustments, and put things right even though he knew he deserved your attitude and that it would be preferable to push them beneath the debris, but he wanted you back so badly.

Ben finally murmured, “I care about you,” struggling to find the right words. “Very much.”

Ben tried to tell you how he felt, but it was difficult because you were constantly pushing him away. 

You quickly turned to face him since you didn't want to look at the walls any longer. “Did you care about me when you fucked Countess?” 

“Oh god, I didn't even fuck her,” he exclaimed harshly as soon as you brought up the redhead wily bitch. Because Stan Edgar was causing so much trouble, he should have killed him. 

When he revealed that he hadn't fucked Crimson before, you gasped. You just kept staring at him in bewilderment and surprise, as though you were about to dispute with him. You managed to whisper, “Liar,” not sure if he was telling you the truth or not. 

With an upset voice, he added, “Fuck, I'm not lying,” and he placed his right hand under his head. “I was told to have a relationship with her for the media by Stan fucking Edgar. Son of a bitch.” 

Ben was telling you the truth, and you could tell by the look in his eyes. You had no idea what to say at all because he was acting so very serious right now. You always assumed they were going all the way since they were always kissing when they were together and posing for pictures with the media. 

“Why didn't you tell me this before?” you asked, glancing out the window behind you as Ben hesitated. 

“I know, it's still unfair,” Ben said, attempting, though he was never very successful, to express himself. “I wasn't fair to you. You remain the last woman I have touched, even after all this time. I'm not sure if that means anything now. That's all I need you to know.”

You mumbled, “It's still cheating, Ben.” After his admission regarding Crimson, words were difficult to come by. You didn't want to admit it, but it did feel a bit better knowing he didn't touch Crimson Countess.

Ben opened his mouth to deny it, but then he sighed as he saw your look, which was a mix of disappointment and sorrow. There was no turning back to undo the damage he had done. What was done was done. He only hoped he could figure out a way to get your love back the way it used to be—with all of your devotion, passion, honesty, and loyalty. 

You asked gently, almost in a desperate tone that would make you loathe yourself, “Why did you leave me?”

As he saw how vulnerable you were, Ben softened his gaze and shifted positions in the bed, hesitantly moving closer to your face. Thankfully, you didn't even flinch, instead looking at him expectantly, as if you were ready to forgive him and let everything go. But he was aware that you were not yet prepared for that. You needed time, and he could give you everything you needed.

Ben found it difficult to speak as his fingers gently traced your hand. When he finally confessed, “Stan Edgar knew our relationship,” he was unwilling to tell you how much he was mistaken about you and how manipulating he was about you at the time.

You asked gently, “Did he want you to be with Crimson?” as if you understood him. 

It wasn't necessary for you to know how Stan Edgar found out about you. It would be shocking if Stan was unaware of you and Ben during the final months of your relationship because you two were acting quite recklessly. 

“Yeah,” he responded simply, meeting your eyes with his darkened ones. He seemed ready to act as he continued to study your wet lips and hair. 

His face continued to inch closer to yours as his one hand traced around yours, but you remained motionless. He was cautiously gauging your response every second. 

You mumbled, “Yet,” unable to stop your heart from racing when he was that close. “I don't want to love you ever again.”

With a groan, his soft lips found yours before you could even finish your sentence, and you were left wondering who started the kiss first.

When he eventually realized you had kissed him back, even if it seemed like your kisses were doubtful and ghostly, his hard and tight hands on yours loosened. His tongue slipped into your mouth as he noticed you were willing to go one step further, intensifying the kisses.

When your hands came to rest on his thick beard, it was unclear who was moaning more loudly in the other's mouth. The way he kissed you was different from the other kisses you shared; it was more intimate, but there was still this passion. Perhaps it was because it had been too long.

This time, Ben's hands weren't as strong or harsh; instead, they were surprisingly patient, understanding, and caring.

Your hands stopped behind his thick neck and slid to his powerful and warm chest, and he slowly pushed you against the pillow and went on top of you, making sure everything was done correctly and that you were completely alright with it.

For a brief time, you withdrew yourself to catch your breath while your hands lingered around his clothed chest, perhaps in anticipation of his response. As you both gasped deeply, his swollen lips waited on yours. You both gave a loud groan as soon as he pressed his hardness between your legs. Your legs involuntarily spread a little to give him space to move, and your heart began to race.

His lips were waiting on yours as his hands were fisted in the blankets, but he wasn't kissing you as if he were savoring this private time. He remained motionless and patient as you lifted your hips in an attempt to create friction.

He pulled his hips back, and before you could complain, he smacked his clothed hardness between your legs, causing you to gasp and grab onto his back with your fingers, holding onto his t-shirt. He went above you, but he didn't keep kissing you; instead, you were only touching lips and quietly moaning at one another's mouths. 

With a grumble, he pulled back his hips and gave your covered pussy another firm stroke. “Do you like this?” he asked as he repeated the movement.

Rather than responding verbally, you nodded in agreement and waited for him to continue. 

Ben stopped moving, gave you the command, “Tell me,” and waited on top of you.

You elevated your hips to create the same friction once more and muttered, “Yes,” weakly.

Your body needed to relax even though you weren't sure if you were ready for sex. Ben and his supe hearings have recently made your fingers unfamiliar with your pussy.

With one hand slipping under your t-shirt and his eyes fixed intently on you, he repeated, “Do you need me to make you come?”

Ben's hands carefully lifted your t-shirt. When your tits were exposed to his sight, he ran his fingers over one of your nipples, which made you gasp. 

He observed you intently, picking up on every facial emotion you made as he caressed your nipple. 

With a rough voice, he said, “You like it when I play with your tits, don't you?” Taking pleasure in watching you try to get some friction from his hardness by desperately lifting your hips to meet his. He was aware of your precise needs. “If you tell me to suck your nipple, I will.”

You gave him a quiet sigh into his mouth and pleaded with him with your eyes. He was enjoying seeing you like this, at his mercy. He knew exactly what you wanted. Even though Ben didn't do anything at all, you felt so close, even if it was difficult to force yourself to come. Being that near to him and tense while he was merely fiddling with your tits was embarrassingly good. 

“Tell me, baby.” You gasped in delight as he said, “I'll do anything you want,” and put his thumb to your hardened nipple. 

Please,” you eventually pleaded, desperately staring into his eyes. 

Ben sighed, grinned a little, lowered his head to rest on your body, kissed your breast, and started to suck so hard your entire body shook with ecstasy. Your hips lifted in anticipation as your fingers closed on his hair, forcing his head against your tits even more.

The sounds of wetness flooding the room as Ben was moaning around your nipple was filthy. As he played with your nipple with his tongue and licked it, his other hand gave you a hard squeeze, and you felt your walls tighten.

“Oh, Ben,” you let out a loud cry. He groaned loudly in delight as you pulled his messy hair. Your face reddened, and your heart began to rush rapidly.

This time you groaned in protest when he withdrew. You gasped sharply, leaving you on edge with burning cheeks as you glanced at Ben. Your fingers trembled in his hair.

Ben smiled at you because he could see you were desperate for him to continue, and he could also smell your swollen, aroused pussy leaking under your underwear.

With a quick sigh, he exclaimed, “Let me go down on you,” causing your eyes to widen. “I fucking need you to cum in my mouth so bad right now.”

His suggestion made you feel so shy that you released your grip on his hair and put your hands on his chest. 

You said, “But we... didn't do such thing before,” unsure of if he was really willing or not.

As he adjusted your t-shirt as he added, “I know, I know, that's my fault,” and then his fingers stopped on your underwear. “That's something I need to fix immediately.”

He kissed you firmly on the lips after noticing your hesitant and bashful expression and waited for you to answer. “Let me make you come.” 

You nodded briefly to him after a while and anxiously awaited his next move. You were a little anxious since you didn't know if he would really want it or would back out in the middle because he hadn't gone down on you before. 

Between kisses, Ben leaned down on your body and murmured, “Look at me,” causing you to gasp in shock as he planted a wet kiss on your covered pussy. You couldn't decide if his touch was making you too sensitive or too responsive. It felt like there was a lot of leaking beneath your underwear. 

He placed your legs on his shoulder and pulled your panties aside, revealing your wet pussy to his eyes and making you flinch for a moment while you continued to stare at him with flushed cheeks.

Excitedly, you put your hands on the sheets and waited for him to continue.

Before you could react, his warm lips reached your pussy lips. You gasped and tried to move your hips, but he stilled your body as he proceeded to kiss your clit. “Fuck, I missed your beautiful little wet cunt so much,” he muttered.

Ben's balls were hurting and his thick cock was twitching beneath his boxers, but he did his best not to remove it and stroke himself while he used his lips to fuck your swollen pussy. Now, your needs took priority.

Ben began to suck your pussy with a full tongue as you squeezed your lips together and clenched your hands into fists. You tried to shift your legs away from his shoulders, but he stopped you right away and sucked harder.

You let out a loud gasp as your hands found his hair and pulled his head closer, pressing it even closer to your pussy, just as Ben suddenly pressed his tongue into your hole. For an instant, you sensed his lips curled around your pussy, and he proceeded to fuck you with his tongue. Your voice was shaky as you began to murmur his name, your back arched.

Your legs trembled on his shoulders as he waited for your cum to fill his lips, pressing his tongue even farther into your hole. You began to cum into his mouth with a loud moan, unable to hold back yourself any longer. You were under so much pressure in that instant that you were about to cry for two reasons: excitement and embarrassment at not being able to contain yourself for even two minutes. You were unsure of the previous time your climax had struck so strongly.

You tried to push his head away from your body and adjust yourself, but he held you firmly and let you ride your orgasm into his mouth to the very end. “I'm sorry,” you muttered in a panicked and embarrassed manner. 

He planted a hard kiss on your clit, cleaned you off with his mouth, and adjusted your underwear when your orgasm subsided and felt too sensitive. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, I should have done this sooner,” he remarked, kissing your forehead for a long time after licking his lips. Though Ben's cock was hurting under his sweatpants and he was extremely hard, he knew that his desires could wait and that this wasn't the exact moment. 

While Ben's hands waited on the both side of your belly softly, you made a move to get rid of him, but he gently stopped you, saying playfully, “Hey, wait wait, what about a pillow talk?”

“I need to clean myself,” you murmured weakly, still feeling shy for letting yourself go in his mouth without a warning and too soon.

“I've already cleaned you up good, baby. You don't have to be worried about that.” He waited on top of you, with a smile on his face. Both of your hearts were still racing.

“Sorry,” you muttered shyly. “I didn't- couldn't warn you.”

“Come on,” Ben exclaimed, grinning broadly and sincerely. “I already tried to make you cum in my mouth. You did incredibly well. That's something I can do every night.”

He moved both of your bodies in the bed when you stopped moving beneath him. Without a word, you turned your back on him before he could embrace you. 

Ben moved to get close to you and held you in his powerful arms despite the bed's small size. You weren't strong enough to be hurt again, but your heart melted when his hands paused on your stomach and he hissed again behind your head. 

Knowing that his compassion was always accompanied by cruelty, you answered, "That doesn't make a difference, Ben. I still don't want to love you." 

Rather than responding to you straight away, he took a big breath, gripped your body tightly, and said, "I know."

Next Chapter

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A/N: I hope we are good so far.. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. They keep me going. ^.^

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[vroom--vrooming]

Armando Aretas x Detective!Reader

Armando lured you to him, but for what?

You’re crouched behind a stack of crates in the dimly lit warehouse, heart pounding as you scan the shadows. Armando Aretas is here; you can feel his presence like a palpable heat. You’ve been chasing him for months, always a step behind, always tantalizingly close yet infuriatingly out of reach.

Suddenly, you hear a soft, mocking clap from the shadows. “Well done, Detective. Almost had me this time.” His voice is smooth, laced with that infuriating blend of charm and arrogance.

You stand, gun raised, eyes searching the darkness. “Show yourself, Armando. This ends tonight.”

He steps into the light, hands up in a gesture of mock surrender, a smirk playing on his lips. “Does it, though? I’ve heard that before.”

You grit your teeth, finger tightening on the trigger. “Don’t move.”

He tilts his head, his gaze sweeping over you, taking in every detail. “You’re quite determined, aren’t you? I admire that.” He takes a slow step forward, and you don’t back down, even as your pulse races.

“Stay where you are,” you warn, but your voice wavers slightly, betraying the confusing mix of fear and something else—something dangerously close to attraction.

He stops, just a few feet away, his eyes locked onto yours. “You know, I could let you catch me,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. “But where would the fun be in that?”

You swallow hard, trying to maintain your composure. “This isn’t a game, Armando.”

“Oh, but it is.” He steps closer, and you don’t retreat. He’s so close now that you can feel the heat radiating from him. “And you love it. The chase, the adrenaline. You need me as much as I need you.”

Your hand shakes slightly, the gun feeling heavier by the second. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He reaches out, his fingers brushing your cheek, and you shiver at the contact. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. “But you won’t shoot me. You can’t.”

His hand moves to the gun, gently prying it from your grasp. You let him take it, your mind clouded with the intoxicating mix of fear and desire. He tosses the gun aside, and you’re suddenly aware of how close he is, the heat of his body, the intensity of his gaze.

“Why don’t you just admit it?” he says softly, his lips inches from yours. “You’re as drawn to me as I am to you.”

Before you can respond, he closes the distance, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. You gasp, your hands instinctively moving to his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

The kiss deepens, and you’re lost in the sensation, the world narrowing to just the two of you. His hands slide down your back, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your body pressed against his.

For a moment, everything else fades away—the chase, the danger, the fact that he’s the man you’ve been trying to catch. There’s only Armando, and the undeniable, electric connection between you.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. “You can keep chasing me, Detective,” he says, his voice a husky whisper. “But you’ll never catch me. And deep down, you know you don’t really want to.”

He steps back, and you feel a rush of cold air as the heat of his body leaves yours. He bends down, picks up your gun, and places it gently in your hand, his fingers lingering over yours for just a moment.

“Until next time,” he murmurs, and with a final, lingering look, he disappears into the shadows, leaving you standing there, heart pounding, mind reeling, and a part of you yearning for the next encounter.

[lacucarachapisser]

morning bliss colin zabel x f! reader

warning : SMUT but mostly fluff. cringe. unprotected piv. slightly somno. dub-con. um boobs playing. quick nut. morning make out. a little ass spanking. lazy sex. a bit of cockwarming if you squint. lmk if im missing any im really bad at warning. 1.2k wc.

a/n : i’ve never written smut before so, i am so sorry if it doesn’t landed well. and apologies if there are too many grammatical mistakes english isn’t my first.

“for god’s sake, mare. it’s five in the morning.”

colin is on the phone. he complains while massaging his both temples by pressing the fingertips to the line of his eyebrows. you can hear his morning voice jumbled up with annoyance, though he managed to kept his voice down. he told you just last night how exhausted he was because work had been kicking him right in the ass over and over. working overtime, bringing it home, receiving calls in unusual hours, odd schedules, like hell they could stop.

“well… wouldn’t that be a perfect alibi? honestly it can wait,”

what is he talking about? he wakes up and sat at your shared bed, listening to mare’s voice over the phone. it is indeed still dark outside, you haven’t even feel the morning seep through the drapes. both of you slept back-to-back last night, and you still in your position, laying on your left side as your back facing him. there were time when you had to eavesdrop his phone call unintentionally.

you kept your eyes shut closed, pretending to sleep and didn’t bother to flip around because thus only makes him feel guilty— speaking from experience. he doesn’t want to wake you up early. so you stay still, breathing slowly like you always did when you’re asleep.

“give me 30 minutes okay? i need to—“

he stops and you bet that the other person on the phone is interrupting him.

“fine, 20 minutes. whatever.” the call ended in one click and a long exhales come out from colin’s mouth. “fuck me,”

you rarely catch colin saying cuss word in loathed way, and that makes you indeliberately flinch.

he throws his head back to the pillow, hand placing the phone back to the drawer and turns his head towards you. he had a hard time deciding whether he should get up from bed unnoticed or straightly wake you up because he running out of time. and deciding does running out his time.

he scoops your body, spooning you as his hand gently tracing along your waist and the other slipped beneath your underarm. oh does he misses you so much. it was irrational worry that dwelled within him every time he thought about the guilt. mainly because his jobs always interfering his time with you.

“baby..” he breathes in your hair, whispering and sounds extremely stressed, and needy? he hums, voices vibrate in your ears.

you didn’t say anything as you let him hold you from behind, chest pressed against your back. his muscular hand starts rubbing your tummy, up to your chest and squeezing your clothed boobs. and those act itself caught you off guard, which of course made your eyes arise in a wince. now you understand what colin have in mind. he was never a fan of a quick bite. he prefers having you hours, nice and intimate. but seems someone like to try something new to start the day.

“mmh…” your soul barely even there, despite the fact that you listen the whole time when he was on the phone.

he places soft kisses on your bare shoulder, up to your neck and to your jaw. he slightly get up with his elbow, hand still kneading your round breast, trying to get a better access to assault your tits.

as soon as your eyes turn to him, he quickly presses his lips on yours, busy adding some tongue, unbothered by the fact that you both have morning breath. perhaps since he aware of your mouth routine, you normally very much so strict with oral hygiene and you liked to force him to do so. skipping a coffee ritual and have a light bitter saliva to taste for each other wasn’t really that bad at all. and also, you love him anyway. gross? yeah love stinks.

his palm and digits playfully groping your tits, fingertips circle around the texture in the middle. those veiny hands always read your body like a bible, and yes he was greatly intrigued by the shape of your mind but also had a special fondness of your gorgeous chest.

“i promise it’ll be quick,” he turned you around so now you lay on your back, expeditiously spreading your four limbs, locking your arms above your head and found him already between your legs. he didn’t bother to remove your panties, he just brushes aside the fabric that covers your crotch and exposing your pussy.

like the quickest thief, the tip of his length already meet your fold, entering it deep just in case you can quickly adjust to his big hardened cock. he began to thrust you and adding some pace before start kissing and sucking on your collarbone. in between harsh breathing, you manage to speak, though your voice end up a bit squeaky. “what’s gotten into you..?”

his movement gets faster, abusing your throbbing cunt in belligerence way. was he mad at you? however when he looked at you in the eye, it somehow evoking a sense of benevolent yet miserable expression on his face. oh right… he just running out of his time.

with one deep thrust, he touched your most tender spot and you clenched him hard, a big wave of ecstasy start washing over you.

“c-col!”

he whimpered when the end of heavy orgasm hit and pushes himself deep in you for the last time, fill you up nice and full. “i’m sorry baby, i am so sorry. i need you so bad.”

he kisses you on the mouth and you reciprocate it with a lowkey soft smile draw on your face. you found it funny having him needy and thoughtless at the same time. oh your poor man. you hummed sluggishly, eyes closed as you try to recover from the feeling. he always put your first and perfectly fine if you say no. although seeing him being a little selfish like this was one of your top thing on your list.

“that was fast.” you whispered in between kisses.

“told you. i dont have much time,” he suddenly pull away and hide his face on your neck. “i hate my job,”

“no, you don’t,”

“yes i do hate my job,”

“don’t say that. you loved it.”

he peaks at your face and you give him your smile. “not as much as i love you,” he replies lazily.

“shut up,” those three sacred words is often popped up in every moment, somewhat you never expected at all. “how many minutes you have left now?”

“probably 13? 12?”

“do you think we can do another round?”

a sympathetic eye and frowned eyebrows shown on his face contour, lips curled into a ribbon of disappointment with melancholic wrinkles. a low grunt escape from his mouth and he probably think you’d get upset if he refuse. he was about to reply your question but instead you chuckle and wrapped your arm around his neck.

“i’m messing with you…” you poke his nose with your pointer “come on. let’s get up,”

he exhales and shakes his head “no. still too early for you, you go back to sleep.”

“don’t be silly. i need to change the sheets, come on.”

a soft laugh come out from his lips. he gives you last peck on your cheek before finally get out from the bed. you need to readjust your nightgown first before joining him.

“at least let me make you some coffee,” as you walk by passing him, heading to the door out, he smacked your ass and grinning in satisfaction. those makes you jolt but you honestly don’t give a damn. you used to colin’s habit.

“yes ma’am.” the smile on his face subsides slowly as soon as the sound of the clock catch his ears. only if he could just stop it because now he should be ready for duty might slap his ass at any time.

[goldsbitch]

Right?

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

That is until a photoshoot gets out of hand and there is no way to go but forward.

warning: swear words, male x female, angst

part 2

______________________________________________________________

You're a professional. Right? Always been, proud of your hard work and strong will. If you want something, you go and get it.

It's by no chance that you're standing exactly here - in the McLaren F1 paddock, in the middle of buzzing neatly organized and timed chaos prior to the start of the race. "Read the grid, feel the paddock" was a line burned to your memory by your first boss, now the Media head of Redbull. You've learned what each and every one of the people do, what their job entails, because one day, one day you want to be more than a photographer for the team's social media.

You're a professional. Had a dream and went for it, no matter the sacrifice or long hours. Always on the road, detached from your peers. Because your heart beats for this.

You'd never do anything to compromise your job. Right?

The hardest part to ignore is his scent. You can evert your eyes when he walks to the room like he owns it - and one would say he actually does, he is the team's no. 1 driver for god sake. His voice can almost be blocked out by focusing on a conversation with a different person or headphones if the situation allows. But his scent seems specifically tailored to messing with your ability to focus, so much sothat you've considered wearing a mask and pretending to be a super freak about germs.

Ironically, scents are hard to recall. And you would know, you've tried several times on lonely nights in hotel rooms, with the goal to make you finish just a little bit faster. A moment you'd really love to forget is standing in a perfume shop trying to figure out what is that magical formula. Because it can't be due to the fact that he is wearing it. Right?

However hard it is for you on the inside, one would never know of your tiny little crush from the outside. Always keeping it casual, with every photoshoot staying professional and holding it together.

It was Lando who had the idea to do more of an intimate (his words, not yours) photoshoot than usually, to spice up the feed, as he bluntly said during a casual PR catch up. This was the reason why you were standing here. In the middle of the forest, alone with a big camera and one light for the subject in question, your biggest crush in history. You were sure he was having a great time putting you outside your comfort zone, the cheeky fuck he was. But then again, he probably really did not give a shit.

"I can't focus if you'll keep looking at me like that," Lando stated like a spoiled child.

"Come again?" you asked, geniuenly confused.

He jumped around few times, as if he was about to run a marathon. "Show a little enthusiam, why so bleh today?"

"You're right, my mind went somewhere else."

"Oh, am I boring you? Well, that's bad. We should be promoting my merch here, but even the person paid to be here can't seem to be bothered!" His tone changed. He raised his eyebrows, challenging you to up your game.

You're a professional. No doubt about that.

Focus, get your head back. Your energy boosted up again, here we go! "Ok, Norris, back to work!" You're well aware that a great photo comes from the subjects ability to connect with the photographer. "You're right, this isn't working. Let's get into the car."

You both left the random wood spot and returned to his sports car that brought you here. "Sit on the driver's seat" you instructed.

"Oh, as if there is a different way this would go down."

"Come on, let's drive around. And be fast," not sure if you were incouraging him or yourself.

"Like the sound of that. Buckle up, otherwise you'll have blurry photos."

And with that he reversed back on the main road.

After about 15 minutes of driving back and forth with a casual drift on the turns, getting pictures of him driving in his new jacket and shades, the adrenaline levels were pretty up in both of you.

"Parked it up here" you instructed again, having him stop on a hill with a view on a city lights in the background. "These are amazing!" you said after a brief look on the photos.

Lando was curious as ever. "Show me!"

"No, you'll see them on the right time. Do you trust me?"

He licked his lips. "Surprise me?"

"Lean back."

You really got into the zone, already super excited for the pictures. They had everything, interesting lighting, composition and Lando was doing an exceptional job with his smiles. However, you knew it could give more.

"This is great Lando, truly great job! But let's do more and push it further, you ok?"

"Just tell me what to do." He looked like he was really enjoying the attention, but you tried to block any of these thoughts out.

"One thing photographers recommend is for the model to try and look into the lens as if you want to seduce it, capture those looking at the picture...It's for making models less focused on the camera and being more attractive..."

Lando pulled out his best smirk yet. "Oh, I'm not attractive enough to be your model now?"

"Come on. You know what I mean."

"Nah, I don't," he lied. "Elaborate, I'm just a simple driver."

Now you were getting annoyed. "Just imagine the lens is someone you want to, em, who you would like to"

"-Fuck?"

"Yes."

"As you wish." And as you asked he did.

He probably did it without much of a thought, but you were perfectly aware of how he fixed his posture, opened his lips a bit, moved his and got this look on as if he wanted to eat you - in the best way possible. This got you in the zone, striking one photo after another, moving your camera and getting closer to get the details, completely forgetting you were both there to shoot his new merch.

Battery low. You would have cursed yourself in that moment. Only you hardly had a second to think about this. When you put your camera down, you realized the nonexistent proximity between you and Lando. You were sitting above him on the back seat with him staring up to you.

You froze for a moment, knowing there is no battery left in the bag.

"Well that is us done for today," you focused on the camera. How on Earth can you be so stupid.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You suddenly realized you were way, way to close to Lando. The damn scent, again.

"Damn, I like these kinds of photoshoots."

"Uhm, yeah." You did not want to move, but it was becoming socially unacceptable for you to be sitting on him for this long.

"Have you done this with Oscar?"

It's hard for you not to laugh at that thought. Every photoshoot with Oscar was a nightmare with the atmoshephere being so dry that everyone with an inch of taste had to tell from the photos immediately.

"Not yet," you said trying to preserve the facade. " But if these work out and the team likes them, we might recreate this with him?"

As if that was even remotely possible. You should move now. Why isn't he moving?

"Shame, thought it was our thing," his voice was becoming more raspy with every sentence.

And with that - you lost it.

"You still have the look." How is this sentence coming out of your mouth?

"What look?" he said, moving even closer to you.

"The models look."

"Remind me which one."

"The "Fuck Me Look"...But I'm not taking photos anymore."

"Interesting."

"Why?" You stopped breathing a while ago.

"Because I think you have it too."

part 2