#I want to drop kick the universe into the sun

[bbcphile]

Wow, the US medical system really doesn’t want me conscious or functional.

Brought to you by my sleep doctor’s still not having sent in the prescription for my narcolepsy meds even though my appointment was 12 days ago, and I’ve now been unmedicated for over a month, and am back to spending most of my time asleep, or if I’m very lucky, and suffer for it the next day, I can write meta or outline fics that I someday hope to write, but not actually write the fics themselves because I am too exhausted.

Brought to you also by my health insurance and the coupon program that makes my migraine meds affordable, since they are trying to force me to stop using the only medication that works on me.

Being disabled is exhausting and infuriating and a thankless, mandatory full-time job, and I hate it.

*screams loudly into the void *

[wonsroyalty]

forbidden, 박성훈

pairing/warnings: 6.4k,, sunghoon x f!reader, brothers best friend, smut, jake and his sister are lowkey spoilt children!!

a/n: my og bias!!! i love sunghoon so so much omg, literally the prettiest boy ever.. hope i did him justice with this trope cause school is kicking my butt😓

masterlist

It wasn’t a secret to say that you wanted your brothers best friend.

You remember the day that Jake brought him over to your house. He was skinny and awkward looking but Jake, the ever-giving saviour, took him under his wing.

Sunghoon truly was innocent before he met Jake. Your brother corrupted him, turning him into a carbon copy of himself.

One time you asked him if he ever missed his old self and he responded harshly asking if you were crazy. Who knew that adopting a fuck boy persona could change a person so drastically..

Sunghoon was over at your house constantly, after school every day, every weekend, every holiday. You were convinced he didn’t ever spend a dinner at his own house.

At first it annoyed you because having two Jake’s at home wasn’t very appealing, but you knew that there was still a part of the old Sunghoon, deep, inside his now cold heart.

Your senior year was an absolute whirlwind, no annoying Jake to pester you and complain about your outfits, no claims that you were slutting yourself out to get the attention of his friends, no Sunghoon.

You didn’t really miss Jake’s presence while he was at university but you truly did miss Sunghoon.

Maybe that’s why you began to act out, screaming at him when he spilt milk down your top (you’d pushed him), calling him every name under the sun and ultimately teasing him relentlessly.

Jake pretended to be oblivious, ignoring your shouting as he focused on the video game in front of him.

He wanted to enjoy his summer, not deal with your new excessive stress reliever.

When he heard Sunghoon start screaming back at you, he got up with a loud groan.

He grabbed your arm, dragging you away from the kitchen.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he glared.

“He spilt milk onto-”

Jake was seething.

“Shut it.” he threatened. “Stop messing with Hoon and go clean up your mess. Dinner will be ready in 40.”

You grumbled under your breath as you stormed up the stairs.

Your parents were on yet another trip, claiming that they needed another break.

They had terrible timing as the day after they left, the shower in your en-suite broke.

You stomped your way over to the main bathroom on Jake’s floor, still jealous at the fact that they built the whole third floor for him and him only and that he had the shower with the best pressure.

Sulking, you peeled your clothes off and hopped into the shower, letting the hot water pierce your skin. Annoyed thoughts slowly trickled out as you scrubbed the milky scent away.

Not keeping track of time, you grabbed a fresh towel off Jake’s stack and wrapped your body.

As you opened the door, Sunghoon seemed to be reaching for the handle, about to open it.

“Sorry.” he grumbled. “I didn’t know you were in there.”

He waited expectantly for you to move out of the doorway but instead watched as you followed his every attempt to walk past you.

“I need to fucking pee, can you get out the way.” he groaned.

“Oh come onnnn, Sunghoon.” you shook your head. “Can’t I have a little fun?”

You dropped your towel at the last word, feigning shock at your actions.

Sunghoon immediately covered his eyes taking steps back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” he screamed blushing heavily.

“It was an accident!” you screamed back wrapping your body.

“Yn!” Jake shouts from downstairs.

You ran down the stairs, narrowly missing Jake as you launched yourself into your room and locked the door.

With a laugh you got dressed, calling your best friend as you dried your hair at the messy vanity in your room.

“So.. you’re telling me that you purposely let go of your towel to get a reaction out of him.” Sunoo laughed.

You hummed confidently.

“You’re such a freak, yn.”

“You say that like you don’t already know.” you joked.

“No trust me, I know.” he rolled his eyes.

Yes, you had slept with your best friend a few times, but he had a dick and you wanted experience, so who better to trust than him?

“Well I gotta go, Jakey said dinner would be ready agessss ago.” you laughed. “Bye Noo, love you.”

“Love you more.” he blew you a kiss before ending the call.

You calmly made your way to the dinning room and sat in the seat that Jake had set up for you.

“Ramen, again?” you groaned. “How did it take you so long to make this…?”

Jake shot a deadly glare your way.

“If you want to complain about my specialty why don’t you make dinner tomorrow.”

“Gladly.” you accepted.

Sunghoon was silent the whole time you all ate.

Jake waffled on to him but he kept his head down, feeling the pressure of your stare.

You raised a leg onto his, testing the waters before you raised your foot slowly, letting it make its way further up.

“I can’t do this!” he shouted grasping his head.

“Huh?” Jake was confused, scrambling after Sunghoon as he put his shoes on, your own legs following after him.

“Hoon! You said you were staying over!” he complained.

“Yeah, Hoon!” you mockingly whined.

Sunghoon shoved past you.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He snatched his car keys from the living room table and slammed the door behind himself.

“Wonder why he’s in a fucking mood.” Jake grumbled.

“Let’s just go eat..” you pushed him back to the table, hearing Sunghoon speed away.

~

Sunghoon kept his promise, returning the next day bright and early but camped out in Jake’s room the whole day.

Ear on the door, you heard him say “So, is Yn gonna stay away…”

“You know,” Jake trailed off. “Heeseung was over the other day and she didn’t act like that so I just think she hates you.”

“There’s a big difference between hate and lust.” Sunghoon shook his head.

“Ew! That’s my sister.” Jake gagged. “I truly don’t think she wants to fuck you.”

You sighed at how wrong he was, mentally giving him points for the protective act.

“Right.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Not like i’d want to hit anyways.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s still off limits, don’t try it.” Jake firmly said.

You heard them both shift around and out of the fear of getting caught you knocked on the door.

Sunghoon opened it, glaring down at you.

“What do you want?”

Your palms pushed his chest away from your intended path. Taking note of the fact that he was a lot more muscular than the previous summer.

“I’m not here for you,” you grumbled.

Jake tilted his head as if to ask you what Sunghoon had already said.

“I’m going shopping, gonna take your car because I’m outta fuel.”

“You can’t just take my car, let’s take yours and fill it up.”

“Let’s..?” Sunghoon grumbled.

“I have no money.” you lied.

“How’d you already finish your allowance?” Jake shook his head. “What was the plan when paying for the shopping?”

“Dad’s card.”

Jake hesitated before agreeing. “We’re all going, in my car.”

“I’m driving!” you ran out of the room, Jake following behind you as you raced to get the keys.

Sunghoon was in agony, sulking in the back seat as you and Jake argued over what songs should be played next in the cue.

“Siri, play Stay by Rihanna please.” Jake grinned in satisfaction as the song blasted through his car.

“Fuck you, I want Sticky! Siri play Sticky by Tyler the Creator.” you grumbled as his assistant didn’t listen to your voice and instead chose to snatch his phone and type it in.

The anger in his gut was slowly building up.

“Fuck! Yn keep your eyes on the fucking road, it’s a green light!” He shouted.

Both you and Jake jumped in fear.

Fingers shifting gears and feet pushing down on the pedals, you whipped into shape at the awareness of your surroundings.

“Jeez, Hoon.” Jake checked his ears for blood.

The rest of the ride was absolute silent, bar the music playing, you and Jake didn’t dare to speak up.

Sunghoon jumped out at the first opportunity, storming away with the shopping list leaving the two of you to trail after him like kicked puppies.

“I’ll go get the steak, it’s best from the butchers market down the road.” Jake pulled you in before he left. “Don’t do anything i wouldn’t..”

You nodded, giving him the sweetest smile.

He shook his head, pulling you in for a hug. You felt his lips place a peck on the top of your head.

“No funny business.” he threatened Sunghoon who grumbled in response.

“Sooo…” you dragged on. “Now that Jake’s gone- Hey! Don’t walk away while I’m speaking to you!”

The rest of the shopping trip was quite annoying.

All of your attempts to have Sunghoon squirming failed, he was blatantly ignoring your presence.

“Uh.. what’s Foie Gras?”

You giggled at his butchered attempt of pronouncing the item.

“Fattened duck liver.”

He physically recoiled. “Why would anyone wanna eat that.. ew.”

“It’s good, you’ll like it.” you persisted, leading him towards the correct aisle. “Sunoo??”

Your best friend stopped looking for salmon and embraced your hug.

His hands gripped your waist as you snuggled into his neck.

“Here with your new boy toy?” he laughed, pulling away from the heat of your body.

“I’m Sunghoon, nice to meet you.” the older boy leaned over you, holding a hand out for Sunoo to shake.

Sunoo gripped it firmly, greeting him with a smug grin.

“I’ve heard about you.”

“Good things I hope..”

“Well…” Sunoo laughed.

You pulled their hands apart, choosing to get all up in Sunoo’s personal space.

“Noo, are you coming to Heeseung’s party?” you poked his toned chest.

“Of course,” he grabbed your finger, the end of his sentence coming out as a whisper. “Kazhua told me that Yujin’s gonna be there as his plus one.”

It had been 3 weeks since you stopped talking to your friend Yujin after finding out that she’d slept with Sunghoon despite knowing that you had dibs on him.

Your expression immediately turned sour, very close to acting on the urge to drop kick Sunghoon then and there.

He’d always claimed that you were too young for him, despite there only being a years difference between the two of you, but then went behind your back and slept with a friend of the same age.

“You should see the look on his face right now.” Sunoo leant in closer, “He’s seething watching me get close to you. What a freak.”

Mood dissipating as an idea popped into your head, you took Sunoo’s hands and placed them on your ass. Letting him shamelessly grope you in public.

“Don’t be mean, I like that he’s kinda desperate sometimes.” you laughed.

Sunghoon fought to rip his vision away from you and your friend, slowly gaining the courage to grab the Foie Gras before storming over to you and yanking you away from Sunoo.

“Hey! I didn’t even say bye.” you turned your body to wave at your friend in response to the wink he sent you.

You watched in bewilderment as Sunghoon slammed the basket items onto the conveyor belt, scaring the cashier.

He whipped his wallet out of his pocket and took a card out to pay.

“You don’t have to do that..” you looked away in embarrassment.

You knew that Sunghoon wasn’t as well off as people like you and Jake. Taking up a summer job just to keep up with the lifestyle.

“Well Jake took your dad’s card, so unless you want to return all this, i’ll pay.” he pressed his lips together tightly.

The lack of refusal on your part led him to tap his card onto the scanner.

Watching him wince at the high transaction go through had you clenching your thighs together. You couldn’t tell if the hormones rose from Sunoo or Sunghoon but you didn’t really care.

He bagged the shopping and walked off to the car, not even bothering to look back at you.

Once the bags were in the boot you stood outside waiting for Jake.

“Jake wouldn’t have liked that.”

“Jake or you?” you rolled your eyes. “Sunoo’s my best friend.”

“So you just let your best friends fondle your ass in public?” he scoffed in disbelief. “Hee was right, you really are a slut.”

“Excuse me!”

You both turned to see an elderly lady coming over.

“Please could you help me load my shopping into the taxi?” she pleaded.

“Of course!” you beamed pushing down your anger with a gentle laugh.

Your parents had raised you right in some ways.

Sunghoon followed after you, keeping himself surprisingly close to your moving figure.

You both helped the lady transfer her bags from the trolley to the car, nodding with respect at her praise.

“What a cute couple, thank you for helping me.” she beamed, waving as she got into the passenger seat.

One look at Sunghoon’s face and you could tell he was torn between annoyance and embarrassment.

“Where the fuck is Jake?”

As if on cue Jake showed up.

You wiped your thumb at the lip stain on his cheek.

“You’re so nasty.”

He held a finger up to his lips before wrapping one arm around Sunghoon and the other around you.

“Sooo what did I miss?”

~

“PartyNextDoor? Really?” Sunghoon muttered walking into the dimly lit kitchen. It was clear that you were trying to set the mood.

Jake had sent him to help you out of fear that you’d burn something while he stepped out to meet some girl.

“He makes good music.” you shrugged seemingly unaffected by the lewd lyrics. “Aren’t you here to help?”

He nodded.

“Load the pasta into the oven dish, please.” you instructed. “Then put cheese on top.”

Sunghoon picked up the cheese block.

“Where’s the cheese grater?”

You told him that you’d get it, purposely bending over in your miniskirt so that he’d get an eyeful of the way your panties clung to your puffy folds.

“Oh… got it.”

Turning around you saw that Sunghoon was clearly distressed, pinching the top of his nose bridge.

You passed the grater over, internally laughing at the way his body jolted when your hand brushed against his.

“Aww Hoonie..” you pouted. “Do you want my help?”

Not even waiting for a response, you squeezed his crotch.

A low groan left his throat watching you drop to your knees with his trousers and boxers.

You impatiently began to suck him off, revelling in the fact that his cock was just as pretty as him.

Sunghoon’s head fell back, knuckles paling at the pressure of him gripping the counter.

“That feels so good.” he praised.

Sunghoon was big, too big even.

You swirled your fist at the parts you couldn’t reach and suckled on his tip, the praise doing something to you. Spurring you on to make him feel good.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” he moaned.

“But you like it.” you sat back onto your knees.

Something about the look in your eyes had him whimpering.

“I knew the old you was in there somewhere!” your smile widened as you took him into your mouth again.

“Why are you still on that?” he seethed.

His long fingers scratched at your scalp, guiding your head off and on him. The vibrations of your gags had his knees buckling.

Sunghoon experimentally pushed your head fully onto his length. Your nose begged for air, buried in his abdomen and your throat constricted, feeling his dick push past your uvula.

“Come on, yn.” he coaxed. “Take it all.”

Tears streamed down your face, drool seeping out of the corners of your mouth.

“I’m so close, keep your throat open.” he groaned.

“Yn!” Jake shouted from the front door.

You slid off Sunghoon with a cough, scrambling to grab a tissue, wiping your tears and drool away as he pulled up his pants before running to the downstairs bathroom.

“Is dinner ready?” Jake asked poking his head into the kitchen.

“Just need to put it in the oven.” you croaked out.

“Cool, gonna play a game! Send Hoon my way when he comes back..”

Dinner was just like the day before except this time you and Sunghoon both couldn’t make eye contact yet Jake still waffled on.

The air felt thick even for you, trying your hardest to give Jake enthusiastic answers so he wouldn’t suspect anything.

You jumped up and down in happiness when he told you that he would clean the dishes so you could relax, dashing up to your room to get rid of your own problem.

The next few hours passed by rapidly as you tried time and time again to get yourself off, still throbbing from having Sunghoon in your mouth, but nothing was working.

“Ugh!” a quiet groan left your throat.

Your hands reached for the phone on your bedside table immediately clicking on Sunoo’s contact.

You: fuck i’m so horny

You: tried getting off but it won’t work

Sunoo: u want me to come over ??

You contemplated taking up his offer.

You: that’d take too long

Sunoo: is park over ??

You: yh.. i uh kinda sucked him off earlier

Sunoo: yeah I am NOT contracting an std

You: fuck you 😭😭😭

Sunoo: js send him a nude?? or smth 🫡

You: UGH ILY THANKS

You slipped on a thin nightgown, purposely pushing your chest upwards letting your hardened nipples peek through, taking a picture then taking another of your dripping pussy.

Fingers swiftly moving onto his contact, you pressed on the chat.

[1,000 from yn💋]

Sunghoon: so you had money the whole time..

Yn: [2 pictures attached] can you help me…?

seen

Sunghoon wasted no time in stumbling over to your room. Sending explicit pictures to him while he was staying in your brothers room was very insane.

He didn’t even knock on the door, storming in them locking it quietly after he got in.

“You can’t keep doing this.” he shook his head.

You gave him the best innocent look you could muster.

“Do what? What did I do, Hoonie?”

He ran a hand down his face, immediately losing all composure.

“Stand up.” he demanded.

You complied immediately. Yes, Sunghoon had shown his anger through badly timed outbursts but in that moment he seemed furious.

“You can’t keep trying to make me jealous.” he continued. “You don’t understand!”

“But-”

“You’re all I can think about anymore. I wake up and you’re there, I go to sleep and you’re in my dreams!” he whisper shouted, clearly being tormented by his own thoughts. “Sometimes I just can’t stand you but being away from you was absolute hell for me. Trust me, I am also trying to understand how this shit happened.”

“Hoon-”

“Please.” he begged. “Please just let me finish.”

He took a step forward, cradling your head in his hands.

“For years, I have been infatuated with you. Forced to watch from a distance so that I wouldn’t lose you and Jake.” he shook his head. “There really isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for you. I..”

You placed your hands on top of his significantly larger ones.

“Hoon, what are you trying to say?” you pushed.

He closed his eyes in pain.

“Don’t make me say it.” he frowned. “If I say it, we can’t go back to how we were.”

“I think I love you.” you teared up.

His head whipped up. “What?”

“Sunghoon, I love you.” you repeated firmly.

You’d always wanted Sunghoon since the day you laid eyes on him, but his words put a new perspective into your head. Is this why you were jealous of anyone that got close to him? Is it why you very harshly cut off Yujin? Is it why you felt butterflies every time he was around?

You had let your lust cloud your original feelings for Sunghoon, letting him believe that you only wanted him for sex because you knew that you could never have him romantically.

Sunghoon truly was out of your league. He was genuinely kind and a respcted person. He was everything that you couldn’t be. But none of that mattered when he pressed his lips against yours.

Pent up emotions of the past 10 years released as you kissed back just as passionately. Kissing Sunghoon with as much angst and love as he gave.

You never ever opened your eyes while kissing someone else, but you peeked an eye open to see what he looked like up close.

The perfect mole on his nose, his thick furrowed brows and perfect hair.

He kept his eyes closed for a few moments after you pulled away, taking in the feeling.

“Hoonie.” you called out. “I want you.”

Sunghoon complied, throwing you onto your bed and getting comfortable between your legs.

You attached your lips onto his as he rutted his hips against your warm heat.

From when you sucked him off earlier you already knew he was big, but feeling his so close had you gasping.

“Shhh.” he whispered. “Keep it quiet baby, we can’t let Jake hear.”

Shit. Jake. You hoped that he just wouldn’t wake up or else you’d both be out the house till your parents came back.

Your head bobbled in response.

“Sunghoon,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Hearing you moan his name had his pushing a particularly harsh thrust into you.

“Fuck. Where do you keep the condoms?”

He got off you briefly, taking the time to strip himself as you bent to reach into your desk drawer.

You jolted forwards as his palm made contact with your ass, impatiently begging you to hurry up.

Letting him roll the plastic on while you stripped down had you feeling a little scared. Being naked under his watchful eye was nothing like sending him a nude because you had to witness his reaction firsthand.

“You’re so beautiful.” he repeated, kissing up and down your body.

“Sunghoon please.” you whined.

Pushing your legs into your body, he lined himself up.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay.” he nodded.

You wrapped a leg around his waist, pushing him into you, drooling at the delicious stretch he gave you.

“Fuck, I can’t.” he groaned into your neck, lapping at your skin, flicking his tongue onto the bruises he formed. “Your legs are shaking so much.”

He wasn’t wrong, this was the fastest you’d ever come close to orgasming instantly and he hadn’t even moved yet.

Two thrusts in and you were clamping down on his dick, mouth covered to muffle the string of moans leaving your throat.

“Oh my, I’m cumming. Fuck.” Sunghoon twitched as he groaned lowly in your ear. “Pussy so good, tight, fuck! I’ve never come this fast.”

You didn’t know if he was talking out of his ass but the fact that he wasn’t ashamed did things to you.

Once you’d both recovered, you realised he was still fully hard and that turned you on even more.

“I want more.” you begged. “Please give me more.”

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” he groped at your chest. “Where do you want me?”

You guided him to lie down near your pillows, discarding the condom before hovering your dripping core over his length.

“I want you raw.” you whined. “I’m on the pill, please.”

Sunghoon closed his eyes again.

“Please.” he begged. “Shit. Never thought i’d hear you say that.”

Your legs burned as you sat down feeling the burn ten times more in the new position.

“You’re so big, so big Hoonie.” you babbled.

He could see that you were struggling to bounce yourself so he sat up and guided your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Do you feel me here, baby?” he pressed the spot where his tip poked into your your lower abdomen, both moaning at the feeling.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I can’t.” you cried.

This time around it felt so much more intense, the intimacy was off the charts as he forced you to look into his eyes. Tears were fully streaming down your face at the overwhelming pleasure.

“Don’t you wanna make me proud?” he frowned. “Doesn’t my little slut want me to fill her up? Give her my baby?”

His words had you moaning louder and louder causing him to kiss away the noise.

He smacked your ass harshly.

“Quiet pretty, you don’t want Jake to hear? Do you?” he growled.

You shook your head, falling into his embrace.

The squelch of your juices and the repeated slam of the bed against the wall made you realise that Jake probably already knew what was going on.

Your teeth dug into Sunghoon’s shoulder determined to keep quiet.

“I’m so close..” you sobbed. “Please can I cum?”

He lifted your head, forcing you to look at him.

“Of course, baby.” he groaned. “Let go for me.”

Your eyes rolled back, body going limp as the orgasm ran through you.

Sunghoon came after a few thrusts, filling you up to the brim.

He rubbed your back, waiting for you to come back to him.

But you just couldn’t stop crying, tears rolling down his collarbone.

“Yn?” he inspected your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed, palms digging into your eyes. “Sorry that I was so mean to you just because I couldn’t control my feelings.”

He clicked his tongue, fingers tracing up and down your arms to soothe you.

“It’s not like I was an angel either.” he sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t come to me.”

His lips pressed a soft kiss to your temple, bringing you into his embrace.

“I love you, Yn.” he whispered. “I think I always have.”

You gripped onto him a little tighter at his words, checking to see if the moment was real.

“Can you stay here?” you looked up at him with glassy eyes. “Please. I know that Jake-”

“Yeah, of course.” he relaxed. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

~

Over the next few days, you and Sunghoon had fucked like rabbits. Nowhere was safe, not your dad’s office, the living room, dining room, Jake’s bathroom, the outdoor AND indoor pool, even Sunghoon’s own room had been attacked.

You’d almost been caught by Jake on a few occasions but he still seemed to be oblivious. He didn’t even notice when Sunghoon fingered you under the table at a very public restaurant.

Maybe he was pretending, you just didn’t care. Sunghoon was way too good to give up, even for your beloved brother.

Now it was the night of Heeseung’s birthday party.

You hadn’t seen Sunghoon since he left your room that morning to go shopping with Jake and you were experiencing withdrawals.

The two of you had spoken about boundaries, with the impending doom of your parents coming back the next day but for now you wanted to have him as much as you could.

“So, you’re telling me that while I was on the phone with you, he was quite literally eating your out?” Kazhua grimaced. “You two are perfect for each other.”

You laughed swatting at her arm in fake offence.

“Uh oh….” Sunoo pursed his lips.

The three of you looked in the direction he was facing, watching as Yujin felt up and down Sunghoon’s buff arms, Jake and Heeseung looking away awkwardly.

“Yn! Wait!” Kazhua called after you but you were already storming over.

You pushed Yujin out of the way causing her to stumble and placed yourself in front of Sunghoon.

“Woah, Yn..” Jake laughed.

“Can we talk?” you asked Sunghoon.

“Well.. I’m with my friends right now..”

You forcefully grabbed his arm, dragging him outside not stopping till you got to his car.

The cold summer breeze nipped your shoulders, sending shivers down your spine.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you seethed. “Letting her touch all up on you when you know how I feel!”

Sunghoon just leant forward and kissed you.

You pushed him away, flustered.

“Hey!” you whisper shouted. “What if Jake just came outside right now?!”

“Shhh..” he laughed. “Come here then.”

He pulled his keys out of his pocket, and got into the drivers seat, patting his lap.

If you had checked your surroundings before you hesitantly got in then you would’ve noticed Riki, your brothers minion, dashing off to find Jake.

Sunghoon pushed your hips down onto his so you could feel him.

“This is how you make me feel.” he moaned, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Fuck.” you moaned. “I’m still mad at you though.”

“Take it out on me, pretty.”

Your lips attacked his neck, leaving as many marks as possible, you wanted everyone to see that Sunghoon was clearly taken.

He pulled his dick out of his pants, rubbing it along the slick of your panties.

You smacked his hand away, pulled your panties to the side and suck down onto him by guiding yourself.

Tears threatened to spill, body already covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around your waist, thrusting up into you rapidly.

The whole car shook while the windows fogged up.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Hoonie, faster please!” you moaned.

“You think you can run your mouth whenever you feel like it, huh pretty?” he seemed to go even faster.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, nails digging into his biceps for stability.

“Oh you’re sorry? Prove it.” he growled. “Scream my name.”

“Hoon.” you whimpered. “That’s too risky.”

“Hm.. that’s not what I asked.” he rubbed circles on your clit, going even deeper than before. “I know that you can be louder than that.”

Having him hit the spot time and time again was sending you over the edge, you lost all composure the second he started sucking on your sweet spot.

“Sunghoon, fuck. Ah, right there! Fuck Daddy, please go faster!” you screamed out.

“Daddy, huh?” he groaned. “Gonna make you feel so good princess.”

You cried out as he continued to thrust into you at a faster pace, skin slapping erotically.

“I’m gonna-”

He told you it was okay to let go.

“Fuck, look how much you came for me.” he moaned in admiration, feeling true bliss as your essence leaked down to his balls. “So good for me, baby.”

Static filled your ears as he came inside you, waves of fire burining through your limbs.

Sunghoon’s head hit the headrest and you slumped onto his body.

His fingers scratched at your scalp soothing you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked softly.

You nodded, too tired to respond.

“I need you to use your words, princess..”

Your lips pressed light kisses on his neck.

“I’d love to.” you sighed contentedly. “Can we stay like this for a bit?”

You felt him nod, head falling on top of yours.

Sleep almost overtook you but a knock on the window woke you right up.

“Sunghoooon.” Jake sang.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he whispered.

You immediately shot up, looking for something to cover your face.

“One second.” Sunghoon shouted back.

He gave you his jacket so that Jake wouldn’t notice your outfit as you slipped on a cap from the car and faced the other way.

“Can we talk through the window?” Sunghoon asked nervously.

“No…” Jake groaned. “Open it.”

Sunghoon reluctantly pushed the button, internally cursing when Jake claimed he’d been hit by a whiff of sex.

“What’s up, Jake. I’m kinda busy.”

“Yeah.. I can see.” he gestured towards you, believing that you were just some random Sunghoon decided to fuck. “Have you seen my sister?”

He felt you tense beneath him.

“Um.. no.” Sunghoon shrugged. “I haven’t seen your sister.”

Riki walked out from behind Jake.

“He’s lying!” Riki shook his head. “That’s your sister, right there!”

Jake looked at him in disbelief, finally noticing that the girls hair looked a lot like yours.

Sunghoon tried to swat his hand away when he reached in to take your hat but failed miserably.

“Oh my…” Jake stumbled back.

Your head slowly turned to face him, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Hey, Jakey.”

“Oh my.”

He tried to grab you and pull you out of the car but the loudest whine left your mouth.

“You’re balls deep in my SISTER?!” Jake was furious. “My sister? My little sister!”

The two of you flinched.

“Fucking hell, Sunghoon! You could’ve had anyone else! She’s off limits!” Jake frowned. “Forbidden even!”

“Jake you don’t need to-” you started.

“You shut it.” he shook his head. “Both of you get decent and get out.”

Sunghoon rolled the window up so you could have privacy as you lifted your body off his, cum spilling out while he cleaned you up.

“Riks you can go now.” Jake dismissed the boy who had a smirk on his face.

You and Sunghoon stood infront of Jake, silently taking the verbal beating.

“We’re going home now.”

“I’ll drop her off.” Sunghoon stood his ground.

You pleaded with your eyes to get Jake to agree.

“Fine.”

You couldn’t help but laugh on the drive home.

“That was seriously bad timing.” you sighed, spotting Jake outside the door of your house, waiting for you.

Sunghoon got out first, opening the door for you.

You pulled him in and kissed him goodbye, ignoring Jake’s gags in the background.

“Come over for dinner tomorrow.” you pleaded. “Mother wants you there. So do I.”

“Okay.. I’ll be there.” he smiled. “If Jake tries to hit me though, I am swinging back.”

Jake cleared his throat loudly.

You said your goodbyes to Sunghoon as he watched Jake wrap an arm around you and guide you into the house but not leaving before throwing a middle finger up at him.

“So unnecessary.” Sunghoon sighed.

~

Sunghoon and Jake didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were arguing.

When your dad had told them to set the table together they argued in hushed whispers, fighting over forks.

Even your eldest brother, Noah could tell that something was up, he’d come home and intended to stay for a week after not being around for a whole year.

“Sunghoon?” you mother asked plating up caviar. “Has your mother said yes to the trip?”

Sunghoon nodded in response.

Right the trip. Your parents announced that they were taking you all to Greece, Noah was just there for the free holiday.

“You’re a leech, get a job.” you poked at him.

“Med school is kicking my butt, and who’s gonna pass up a free holiday?” he shoved you back.

“Yn.. you don’t have a job yourself either..” your father teased.

“She doesn’t need a job, I’ve got her.” Sunghoon caressed your shoulder.

Jake began to hysterically gag.

“Stop being so dramatic.” you sneered, body relaxing as Sunghoon rested his palm on your knee.

Everything was going well, Jake and Sunghoon didn’t interact and your parents didn’t pick up on a thing.

Sunghoon tried Foie Gras, he didn’t like it and begged you to let him go to a fast food restaurant but other than that he was enjoying himself.

That was until Jake dropped his fork under the table and noticed how shamelessly close the two of you were under the table.

“Oh my I’m gonna throw up.” he cried out.

“What now, Jake?” Noah sighed.

Jake leaned over the table to whisper at you and Sunghoon.

“Footsies under the table is fucking disgusting.” he sneered.

“What are you talking about?” Sunghoon frowned.

“UGH!” Jake shouted.

“Jaeyun Sim.” you mother scolded. “Sit down.”

“Mumma, no!” he whined. “Those two were fucking behind my back!”

Your dad choked on his wine as you dropped his fork.

“I mean we all thought it was gonna happen soon..” Noah trailed off.

“What?” Sunghoon raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by all?”

Your mother ran round to the other side of the table, pulling you and Sunghoon into a hug.

“Aww my baby is growing up!” she wailed. “Who better to bring into the family than Sunghoon!”

Your dad shook Sunghoon’s hand.

“Careful with that one.” he joked. “She’s a handful.”

“You’re supposed to be on MY side!” Jake glared. “I found out that my best friend is sleeping with-”

“Dating.” your boyfriend corrected.

“Ew!” Jake shivered. “My little sister, my baby sister who I tried SO hard to protect from the men of this world.”

“Even I don’t care this much, Jake?” Noah snickered.

Jake stormed off to his room and slammed the door.

Despite having ups and downs with your brother you truly did love him. Seeing how much he hated the situation made you feel sorry for your actions.

“He’ll come around.” your dad assured.

You waited until the table was cleared to go bring Jake the rest of his food.

“Can I come in?” you asked softly.

He grumbled.

His figure lay on his bed, playing catch with a ball.

“What do you want?” he mumbled.

You placed the food on his desk and sat next to him, ignoring how he aimed the ball at your head.

“Jakey.” you started. “Why are you so against me being with Sunghoon?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I knew him first.”

“Yeah but..” you had to take a deep breath to stop yourself from crying. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I‘m not mad.”

“Right.” you pursed your lips together. “I just wanted you to know that I really do love Sunghoon and that he loves me and I just want us all to be happy..”

A tear slipped out of your eye.

He sighed.

“Yeah, I get that. It’s just..” he wiped the tears that ran down. “He’s my best friend and you’re my little sister, if anyone hurts you i’d naturally have to go after them.. I just can’t bring myself to do that to Sunghoon. I love you both too much..”

Now you were both crying.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” you laughed through your tears.

“I thought that if I delayed the conversation it wouldn’t have to happen.” he smiled sadly. “But i’m not mad, I really am happy for you.. change just isn’t my strong suit.”

“He isn’t lying.” Sunghoon laughed from the doorway. “He’s couldn’t sleep for two months when we first got to uni. Claimed it was nerves but I think he just missed you too much.”

You pulled Jake into a hug, both sobbing gently.

Jake grabbed Sunghoon, pulling him in.

“You’re both so emotional.” he whispered, letting you both cry on his shoulders.

“Yeah well, you have to deal with this forever because you’re not leaving now.” you cried.

“I wouldn’t even dare.” he smiled.

THE END.

[dckweed]

ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain.

this one was kind of short, but heres part two! smut and rosie lore to come soon!

series masterlist here

part two: you ought’a wear sunscreen, lovie

Simon lay in the large cold bed of the guest room he had been provided about a week after his arrival to the cabin, wide awake. The sun was just starting to come up and he hadn’t yet slept, hadn’t even tried. How could he when you were in the room next to him snuggled up into your mound of blankets on the bed? He cursed John out when he had called him after his arrival. How had he left you out of the details when he’d coaxed him into coming to the cabin? ‘Forgoht ‘bout her, pretty little one, ain’t she?’ He had chuckled into the other end of the phone. ‘S’only for a couple o’months, LT, s’long as you’re nice to ‘er she’ll keep your belly full and your clothes clean.’ He hung up after that, and hadn’t picked up any of Simon’s calls or answered a message since.  

Forgot about her, Simon scoffed just thinking about it. He didn’t believe it for a second. How could Price possibly forget about the shy, beautifully curvy, unmated, impossibly adorable Omega he paid to be a live-in housekeeper for the cabin he conveniently sent his unmated, typically uncontrollable problem Alpha to vacation in? He smelled matchmaking all over it and he hated it. 

‘But it’s working.’ Simon grunted, rolling onto his side in hopes that his inner monologue would get the memo to shut up. ‘It’s working and you know it’ And goddess, he did. It was working. She was beautiful, and so deliciously plump and he wanted to kick himself for being an ass when he first spoke to her. He wanted to kick himself for wanting nothing more than to mark her, rub his scent all over her, keep her barefoot and fat and round with his pups. He wanted to kick himself for the way he felt his cock grow hard at just the thought of putting his pups in her. He was better than that, wasn’t he? 

He wanted to kick himself for the way that he already felt protective over her, as if he had already mated and impregnated her. As if they were already married. He felt himself wanting to be no more than an arms length away from her and he barely spoke to her. She dropped a knife while she was loading the dishwasher after supper the night before and he could have cried when he heard her mumble and ‘ow’ and bend down to rub her foot. ‘Should’ve been me, should’ve been me, should’ve been me’ He had heard his wolf chant over and over in his head and he had to really work to remember that he was an extremely disciplined man because without barely a thought he almost launched himself over the kitchen island to make sure you were okay. His fist clenched at just the memory of it. 

He could’ve cried when he heard your soft moan filter through the thin walls of the cabin, you were waking up and he would be subject to another day of breathing in your scent, of wanting to protect and hold you and not being able to.. ‘And why aren’t we able to? What’s stopping you?!” That voice again. That stupid stupid wolf trying to take over his rational sided mind. 

What was stopping him?

Nothing physically, he presumed. Aside from himself…it was always himself. The memories of watching his Alpha father and how he treated his Omega mother..of not feeling like a good enough Alpha himself because he couldn’t always protect her. Couldn’t always stop him..how could he possibly be good enough to protect this sweet little thing that was being dangled in front of him? You didn’t deserve inadequacy. He doesn’t deserve you. You want to bury your ugly mug between her legs..she made you a fucking pot roast and homemade desserts and you don’t deserve her? He’d never wanted to shut the wolf up more. 

You moved as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb Simon in the room next door as you shuffled through the room, gathering fresh panties and a pretty little sundress for the day before making your way to the bathroom across the hall. The shower head spits out hot water almost immediately and you sigh, dropping your overly large sleep shirt to the floor as you step in, moaning as the steamy water rolls over your tense shoulders. You hadn’t been sleeping very well, images of your Papa floating behind your eyelids every time you closed them, causing you to toss and turn or wake up in a fright if you had managed to even fall asleep. 

You hum as you wet your head, massaging shampoo into it as you try to scrub the images and dreams from your mind, leaving you in a better mood by the time you’re done. 

By the time you step out it had been nearly an hour since you’d stepped in, your skin exfoliated and smooth, shining even. Your hair washed and conditioned, soft and silky and wrapped in a towel above your head where it would stay until you were ready to blow dry it in your bedroom, sat in front of your vanity. You take the time to lather your body in lotion, a cozy smelling one that moisturized your already smooth and shining skin before you slipped into your panties and tightened the little corset on the back of your sundress. 

It was a white number, with little roses on it that fell to just above your ankles and showed off plenty of cleavage. The skin of your chest was already red from the sun the other day when you were out in the garden, tending to the vegetables while Simon lounged in the living room (though unbeknownst to you he had spent the whole time watching your every move out of the window next to the plush armchair he had taken post in, waiting for something to happen so he could jump to your rescue), you had forgotten your sunblock again and the hat you wore atop your head did nothing to help protect your delicate skin from the blistering rays of the summer sun. 

A part of you wondered what Simon would think of the dress, and as you thought it your cheeks flushed, making you hurry across the hall back to your room to finish getting ready before he caught you, you could hear him rumbling around the other guest room, you were sure he’d be wanting the bathroom any moment now. 

Another hour passes before you decide that you’re ready to leave the sanctuary of your room, hair braided and tied with a cream colored ribbon, glasses on your face instead of your normal contacts (your eyes were bugging you, your head pounding - which in hindsight probably was a warning that your heat was coming) and a bit of makeup splattered across your face, presentable to the public..to Simon..

He’s already in the kitchen when you hit the stairs, you can smell the coffee starting to brew and hear the clumsy sound of him tinkering around in there, muttering to himself, though what he’s muttering about you’re unsure, not able to make out the words exactly. “Simon?” You question, stepping down off of the final stair, headed for the coat rack to grab your purse and your big sunhat. 

“Ye-” He choked on his own words and you turned to see if maybe he had burned himself with the coffee, not expecting to find him staring at you, wide eyed under his mask. You cock your head to the side, concerned, purse dangling from your hands as you make to step towards him. “You..uh..” He he clears his throat, closes his eyes for a second before looking at you again. “You look..pretty..” He says, and almost as soon as the words leave his mouth you feel your cheeks begin to heat, averting your eyes as you fidget with your skirt. “Did you need somethin’, Lovie?” 

It’s your turn to stutter and choke now, and you do, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times before you remember what you had begun to say in the first place. “I was just going to see if you wanted to go into town with me?” He thinks we’re pretty! He thinks we’re pretty! Your wolf howls in your already aching head, causing you to wince just the littlest of bits. “I need to grab a few things from the market..thought maybe you might want to get out..” When he doesn’t respond right away you panic, and word vomit starts to come out, not even realizing you’ve cut him off from speaking. “I mean of course, only if you want to..it’s stupid of me to assume that you even want to leave, i guess you’re technically on vacation right? How silly to think that you’d want to leave the house..anyway i’ll just be gone a few hours..” 

He’s got his back turned to you by the time you’re finished, fishing for something in a drawer. You dumb ditzy bitch! You’ve ruined it! Ruined! “You outght’a put on some sunscreen, lovie..” He says, turning around with a tube of it in his large hand. Oh! He’s so thoughtful! He’s so sweet! Providing for us like a good alpha! Can we thank him? Can we kiss him? Please, please, please!!! “S’long walk into town, s’awful sunny out..” Before you know it, his large palm is smathering a layer of the thick lotion onto your bare skin, grazing the top of your breasts. Your face is on fire, heat rushing to it, though you can’t look away from him, his brown eyes on yours as he works it in. “There ye’go, can’t have this delicate skin puckering up out there, can we?” His touch is lingering, caressing even, and you open your mouth to say something but before anything can even come out he’s opened the door, sun shining down as he ushers you out, hand going to your lower back as he steps out after you. 

The walk into town was a long one, and while you typically didn’t mind it, it felt even longer with the presence of him by your side. A tall, silent shadow right next to you, and if you stood on the right side of him he did more sun blocking than your hat ever did. You talked enough for the both of you though, and though you were sure you were annoying him with your endless babbling about the things you needed to buy and why, he was kind enough to grunt and throw in the occasional ‘yeah’ or ‘wow’ in where it seemed needed. You didn’t mind, though you were finally slowing down on the word vomit once you neared town, you found yourself instinctually moving closer to his side, wanting nothing more than to just cling on for dear life as townfolk began watching the two of you. 

You were familiar with most of them, you were an usual face having made many trips into the village since you’d been here, but something about the way some of the men stared at you was making your skin crawl. Was it because you were with Simon? Were they jealous? Or were they just being cautious because this was an Alpha they hadn’t seen before? They were used to you coming into town every now and then with John, but mostly by yourself, it was rare to see you with someone else, let alone another man. Your head pounded, and sweat began dripping down your face under the brim of your sunhat. 

Your belly cramped, a low grunt coming from your chest as it did and suddenly, you have a revelation. 

Heat, heat, heat, heat. You pouted, your wolf louder in your mind. No wonder she was reacting this way to him, you thought. It was just because you were due for your heat. You felt silly for not having tracked your cycle or paid attention to the dates well enough to realize it was time. Pups! Oh he could fill us with his litter! I bet his cock is nice and fat, get us nice and full! Your cheeks flushed as you tried to decipher the difference between your thoughts and hers, unsure of who thought what at that moment. 

“Okay there?” He asks, bumping your shoulder with his elbow. 

You look up and he’s already staring at you, eyes drawn tight under that damn mask. How was he not hot? “Just fine.” You smile, looking at him. “I have a few things to grab at the market..it’s just the next street over, can we go there first?”

He follows you silently, if he’s not right next to you, he’s trailing behind and in all honesty his strong, silent presence makes you feel safe and comfortable, at ease. You know you don’t have to watch your surroundings constantly while you’re out, he’s an Alpha, his natural instinct is to protect and he seems to do it just oh so naturally, holding his arm out to stop you when you’re about to cross a busy street, holding your hand gently once he deems it safe enough, ushering you to the part of the sidewalk farthest from the bustling street, his body shielding you if something were to happen..

He opened the doors of the market for you, got you a little buggy and though you insisted on pushing it, he refused, keeping your cute little purse safe in the childs seat once you had set it down. Simon followed along the aisles, watching you pout down at your little list and then stare up at the shelves, your frown deepening when they didn’t have a certain item and you had to settle for an alternative. You didn’t see his fists clenching around the mental handle of the buggy as he watched you, didn’t hear the internal battle he was having with his wolf about leveling the entire store because you were unhappy at their lack of a certain product. 

It was when you were waiting in line for the butcher that he finally spoke again. You just wanted some chicken cutlets, and a couple of good steaks but your body seemingly had other ideas. Your heat was coming strong and fast, evident in the way that you whimper and nearly double over out of nowhere, grabbing Simon’s hand as you grab your lower belly, lips puckered and eyebrow furrowed. 

“Al’righ, Rosie?” He asks softly, worried, looking down at you, his big hand is on the middle of your back, the other on your shoulder as he crouches down slightly, as if to bring himself closer to your level. He’d smelled you since about the time you had first whimpered walking through town, your scent making his mouth water more than it normally did, his wolf trying harder and harder to take control of him, now that you were clearly in pain though, his wolf was whining, crying for him to do something and he couldn’t just ignore it. You nod meekly, trying to suppress a sniffle, to discreetly wipe away the tears welling in your eyes. “No, you’re not.” His voice is gruff, and he cringes as it reaches his own ears. “Wots wrong, lovie?” He asks, gentler this time, quieter. 

You look up at him, lips quivering and eyes watery and his body just wants to sag. Fix it, fix it, fix it, fix it, she’s sad, she’s sad i dont like it! What’s wrong with you? Why are you letting her be sad? Why is she in pain? If he could tell himself to shut up and it actually work, he would have, but dammit the beast was right. Why wasn’t he fixing it? 

“Heat..” 

It was whispered, but it was all he needed. “Okay, lovie, lets get the rest of the groceries and get you home.” Home. Not just his boss’s cabin. Home. A meek nod in response. He tucks you into his side, dropping his big beefy arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side tightly as he gives a long hard glare to the staring Beta’s and Alpha’s lingering around, even the one behind the meat counter. Your face is buried in his rib cage, just under his armpit as you breathe in his scent to calm yourself down, but also to protect yourself from the stares of the other people. Other unmated omegas, even some of the mated ones staring you down as you burrowed into the side of the giant man, your scent marking the whole store. Why wouldn’t they stare? You were the stupid one who couldn’t keep track of your own cycles. 

Simon does the rest of the shopping for you, slapping your list down onto the meat counter as he glares at the butcher, tells the man to make it snappy. “Need t’get this one ‘ome.” He says, his arm still wrapped tightly around your body, his voice just as tight as his grip as he talks to the grocers. You’re still clinging to his side, now shaking as the pain is coming quicker and quicker, when he makes it to the check out. He’s polite as he can be when you squeeze his hand, pouting at his gruff words and demands to hurry as he unloads the buggy, hands the cashier a wad of cash from his wallet while the bag boy works as fast as he can. 

You can barely fathom the walk back home, can barely stand on your own two feet as the light of day shines down on you when Simon helps you step out onto the street some more. He’s kind enough to think ahead, hails a taxi that the town is just barely big enough to justify having and ushers you in, giving gruff instructions to the driver as he plops down into the seat next to you, grocery bags at your feet as you curl into his side. 

“S’alright, Lovie,” He murmurs into our hair, hand rubbing up and down your bicep soothingly as you whimper again. “Get you home and into a hot bath in no time, okay? Get your nest all built up for you..”

This was going to be a long, long week. 

taglist:

@wise-owl

[lolxdswag123]

Just friends?

Percy Jackson x reader

Warnings: making out, I think that’s it tbh

——————————————————————————

My brain was fried. I had been working on homework and studying for hours all week. I had just about isolated myself in the library, and even managed to get on a first-name basis with the librarian.

I regretted my decision to take so many credits this semester, but I just got so excited when I got into New Rome University that I went a little overboard. The only person who was taking more classes than me was Annabeth- of course. She had spent some time with me in the library this week, but other than that I hadn't gotten any social interaction outside of my classes. I knew my best friend Percy was probably wondering where I was.

I submitted a paper that I didn't even have the energy to proofread. I just was hoping for the best at that point. Just as I clicked submit, I got a text notification on my computer. It was such a relief to be able to use normal technology at school. It was so hard in the mortal world to constantly explain why I couldn't have phone.

The text was from Percy.

Where have you been? Haven't seen you all week

I smiled, immediately pulling out my phone to text him back.

Library. So much work :(

I glanced over at the window, seeing that the sun had begun setting. I sighed, pulling out some of my notes to begin studying. I only got a few minutes in before my brain couldn’t take in any more, and I checked my phone once again. Percy had responded.

Got any free time tonight?

I rolled my eyes. ‘Only for you’ I thought, although I decided not to text it.

What do you have in mind?

After I sent that text, I tried my best to give my attention to my notes. Again, I failed. I wasn’t sure my brain could take in another ounce of information without giving up on me.

I slowly packed up my belongings, deciding it would be best for me to just go back to my dorm. When I exited the library, it was dark. I quickly walked back to my room. As soon as I got there, I dropped my backpack, changing into comfortable clothes. My phone buzzed again.

Want to come over?

I yawned, considering it, then deciding I didn’t have the energy to leave my dorm tonight.

Can you come here?

I hadn’t even finished putting my hair up when he responded.

On my way

I smiled, unlocking the door and turning on my tv before getting comfortable on my bed.

I was relieved to be seeing him again after my extremely long week. When we were growing up, we had gotten used to only seeing each other in the summer. At college however, we saw each other at least four times a week. Even when it’s doing small things— walking to class, going to the dining hall— we had really gotten used to eachother’s presence this year. It felt weird to go a week without seeing him.

I also was slightly relieved that it would just be the two of us tonight. I loved Annabeth so much, but I honestly didn’t have the social battery to interact with more than one person after my mental exhaustion. Plus, Annabeth would be doing homework all weekend anyways.

A few minutes after I’d gotten comfortable, I heard a knock on the door. “Come in!” I called.

A moment later, my best friend came walking through the door with a plastic bag and a cup carrier in his hand. I smiled, standing to close and lock the door behind him.

“Hey,” he said, setting the drinks on my desk.

“What’s this?” I asked, gesturing to the bag.

He shrugged, holding it up slightly, “I just assumed you’d be too busy to think about eating, so I picked up some take out for us.”

I beamed up at him, gratefully taking the bag and thanking him.

After being best friends with someone for almost ten years, you really get to learn how they work. Percy always was one that hit the nail on the head when it came to my habits. He was right, I probably would have forgotten about dinner if he hadn’t brought it.

He kicked his shoes off, jumping onto my bed and pointing to the drinks, “I also got some hot chocolate, I wasn’t sure if you wanted any, but I was stopping anyway.”

I nodded, smiling at him, “Thank you, Percy. You’re the best.”

We both sat on my bed, watching the new season of Outerbanks together as we ate our dinner. I tried my best to pay attention to the show, but I couldn’t stop myself from yawning and zoning out.

When we both finished our food, Percy stood, taking the trash from my bed and throwing it into my trash can. I yawned again.

“You okay? I can go if you want to just go to bed,” he said.

I shook my head, “I’m okay,” I said, patting the spot next to me, “stay a little.”

I knew that I needed sleep, but I missed his presence. It felt weird that this was the first time seeing him in days.

I layed down on my bed, getting comfortable and yawning again. Percy paused the show, taking his place next to me again and laying on his side to face me.

“My mom called today,” he said quietly.

“Yeah?” I said, “how is she doing?”

He chuckled, “she’s good, she said she’s happy you and Annabeth are here to ‘keep me in check’,” he said, using air quotes on the last bit.

I laughed, “seems like it’s the other way around right now, I wouldn’t have even remembered dinner if you didn’t bring it to me.”

He paused, rolling onto his back and fiddling with the edge of his sweatshirt sleeve. He didn’t say anything, and I could immediately tell that something was off.

“What’s up?” I said, still facing him. I found myself staring at his pretty face, and thinking about what Annabeth had been saying to me earlier that week. She always said that Percy and I should ‘stop pretending and just get together.’

It definitely wasn’t something that I could say I’ve never considered, I just couldn’t risk ruining the friendship. I’d seen several of my college friends lose their friends by taking it a step too far. I would never recover if I made things awkward between us.

He interrupted my thoughts, when he spoke again. “Paul and my mom asked about you.”

I smiled, moving slightly closer to him to get more comfortable, “Oh yeah? What did they say?”

He looked back down at his sleeve, fiddling with it again. He paused for another moment, before saying, “Just like— they keep asking about us…”

I hesitated, having an idea of what he meant, but I decided to push, “What do you mean?”

He sighed, tossing his arms down to his sides and staring back at the ceiling, “They like… make assumptions— just because we hangout so much.”

I nodded, deciding to question him further, “We hangout with Annabeth too most of the time.”

He glanced over at me, opening his mouth like he was about to say something, but turned back to the ceiling and began playing with his sleeve again.

I leaned forward to rest a hand on his arm, which he glanced at, before looking back at the ceiling.

I took a deep breath, realizing that he wasn’t going to speak up, so I did. “So they’re inquiring into the nature of our relationship?”

He snapped his head over to me, brows furrowing in confusion.

I laughed, “They are asking if we’re really just friends?”

He turned his head back to face the ceiling, “Ohhhh, yeah. Pretty much.”

I nodded, removing my hand from his arm and propping myself up slightly to get a better look at his face.

“And what did you say?” I asked.

He turned on his side, fully facing me now, and propped himself up on his arm so we were looking at eachother.

He breathed in, before saying, “I said I’m not really sure.”

I nodded, looking into his eyes and knowing where this conversation was leading. We’d been putting it off for years. It scared me. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but looking into his sea-green eyes I knew that I couldn’t keep pretending.

“You’re not really sure?” I asked, cocking my head slightly to the side.

“I mean…” he started, and I watched his eyes scan my face before continuing, “I don’t know. It felt weird not seeing you this week. Like… I missed you.”

I laughed at his awkwardness, but said, “I missed you too, Percy.”

I swore I could see his gaze flicker down to my lips for a millisecond, but I chose to ignore it. It made me feel tense and my heart started racing.

He sighed, nodding, but sounding confident when he said,“What should I say then, next time they ask?”

I could feel my face heat up. I can’t keep dodging this. I can’t avoid it forever.

“What do you want to say?” I asked, trying to stall so that I wouldn’t have to make any decisions.

He pursed his lips, but didn’t lose his confidence, “I think it’d be fair to say that we’re not really just friends. And that we should have had this conversation a while ago.”

I nodded. Of course he knew what I was thinking. How could he not? We know each other almost as well as we know ourselves.

I swallowed, and my voice came out as a whisper, “I think that’d be fair to say.”

He nodded, and his gaze flickered down to my lips again, only slightly more noticeably this time.

I cleared my throat, my heart racing, “So if not friends, then what?” I asked quietly.

He searched my face, and I could feel his breath now. I wasn’t sure when we had gotten so close, but we were really close.

It’s not that I had never kissed a guy, I had. They’d all just been with people I never really cared about. I knew somewhere deep down that I would never really like anyone else. He was always in the back of my mind. And now with his breath on my face, I was nervous. We’d never crossed the line in our friendship beyond the occasional cuddle, but even that was rare.

“What do you want us to be?” He flipped the question on me, and his lip quirked into a small grin.

I paused, not knowing what to say. I searched his face, eyes focusing on his lips for a second longer than they should’ve.

“Can I be honest?” I whispered, eyes falling to his lips again before meeting his eyes.

He nodded, his eyes falling to my lips too. I could hear his breath quicken as the distance between us seemed to shrink.

“I’ve known we should’ve had this conversation for a long time, but now that we’re having it I don’t really know what to say,” I said, and his gaze returned to my eyes, “I really care about you, Percy.”

He nodded, “I really care about you, too.”

We stared at eachother, neither of us knowing what to do. Neither of us had ever been in a real relationship before. It was new territory for both of us. But of course Percy always knows exactly what to say.

“Will you go out with me? Tomorrow night?” He asked, before quickly saying, “Unless you have too much work, I mean.”

I smiled, feeling a fluttery sensation in my stomach before saying, “I’d love to.”

He nodded, scooting closer to me, “Yeah?”

I nodded, biting my lip and smiling, “Yeah.”

Our faces were inches from each other now. I let my gaze fall to his lips, and his hand reached out to rest on my jaw.

Slowly, he finally leaned in. His lips touched mine, softly at first, like he was scared that if he moved too fast, he might break me. I let out a soft exhale through my mode, and he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. I could feel his hand slide from my jaw to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair.

We pulled away for a moment, both of us breathing heavy, and looking deeply into eachothers eyes. We both had massive grins painted on our face. Without a second thought, our lips were on eachothers again.

The room suddenly felt hot. My hands made their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my finger tips. All I can think is— why did we wait so long? I let my fingers curl in his shirt, bringing him closer, as the kiss quickly grows more urgent, more intense.

He held me tightly, like he was afraid I might slip away. I felt his hand slide down to my waist, pressing me against him. I let out a quiet gasp as he pulled me onto his lap, firmly guiding me until I straddled him. Nothing else mattered. Just him, our lips, the feeling of our bodies so close together after so many years.

His fingers hesitantly trailed up under my shirt, the touch sending shivers through me as he let his fingertips move along my bare skin. I could feel my breathing pick up, my hands sliding up to his shoulders. I found the courage to tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up. He pulled away, breaking the kiss just long enough to let me lift it over his head, revealing the warm skin beneath. My hands explored his chest, his shoulders, feeling every inch of him as he watched me with that soft, intense gaze, like he’s waiting for my every move.

He slowly pushed my shirt up, and I shakily lifted my arms, letting him slide it off. When it was off, we locked eyes, still smiling like idiots. His hands quickly found my waist again, his fingers splaying across my back as he pulled me close, his lips finding mine once more. I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine, the slight brush of his chest as I pressed myself against him, feeling his heart racing just as fast as mine.

He grabbed my hips, encouraging me to move back and forth. I gasped into the kiss, and began grinding with his grip. We moved together, the friction between us heavy, and I let out a quiet moan. I couldn’t believe we were really doing this. I felt him shiver at the sound, his breath catching as he presses his forehead to mine, pulling away from the kiss but not stopping his movements.

“Gods,” he whispered, his voice rough, barely more than a breath. “I’ve wanted us for so long.”

I could almost feel tears prickle in my eyes, as I breathlessly replied, “Me too.”

He leaned down, kissing my neck with an intensity that I never knew he was capable of. He nipped and kissed, only pausing to mumble, “Since we were 15.”

His confession sent a surge of warmth through me, my hands moving to explore his back, tracing the muscles there. The muscles that I was so familiar with. That I’d seen in battle countless times.

I felt him shudder, his grip on my waist tightening as he lifted his head from my neck, pressing me against him with a need that matched my own. I rolled my hips, feeling the heat build, and he let out a low, breathless groan, his fingers digging into my skin as he joined our lips together again.

Our kiss was electric, heavy, and full of everything we wanted to say and do to each other for years. I leaned into him, pressing my forehead to his, feeling the warmth of his skin. My eyes welled when he stopped moving our hips together, and I saw the soft, vulnerable smile that played at his lips as he whispered my name like a promise.

I whispered his back, feeling my heart fill with an affection that I’d been holding back all these years.

We stayed like that for a while, embracing each other with a few soft, stolen kisses every now and then. We whispered to each other about how happy we were, and he suggested a few dinner places for tomorrow night.

Eventually, we decided to lay down together, but when I finally got comfortable he sat up, saying it’s late and he should probably let me sleep.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes, “Stay, dummy.”

He smiled brightly, and layed back down, embracing me again. We fell asleep like that, only to be woken up the next morning by a knock on my door. I hadn’t been expecting anyone, but I nudged Percy awake.

We looked at each other, wide eyed, and scrambled to find our shirts and fix our appearances.

The knock came again.

“Just a second!” I called out, combing through my hair with my fingers as Percy carefully straightened out my blankets. He gave me a thumbs up when it looked satisfactory.

I nodded, turning to open the door. There stood Annabeth, open notebook in hand, not looking up yet but saying, “Gods, what took you so long?”

I looked at Percy for help, before hesitantly saying, “Sorry, my room was a mess.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, looking up suspiciously, when her eyes caught on Percy. She smirked, closing her book and looking between us.

She checked her watch with a knowing smirk, “Wow, Percy, what are you doing here so early?”

I could feel my face heat up, as Percy struggled to find his words.

“I- uhhh… yeah…” he so eloquently said.

Annabeth shook her head, smiling at us. “It’s about time. I’m going to the library, was just going to see if you wanted to come, but obviously you’re already occupied.” She said, turning and walking back down the hall.

I closed the door as she walked away, and Percy’s face was just as bright red as mine felt.

We stared at eachother for a moment, both of us unsure of what to do.

“Wanna get back in bed?” Percy asked, scratching the back of his neck.

I smiled, taking his hand and dragging him back up to my bed. “I’d love to.”

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Is there anything better than pussy? Yes! A really good book.

Part one

Barbie dolls: Spencer Reid x gn! Reader

Word: 900

Summary: Derek find out about your secret relationship with Spencer

Warnings:non sexual nudity, you wear a robe, um idk, you eat cereal now and read books, extremely short

There wasn’t a lot you enjoyed about mornings. The sun was too bright. You were expected to stop sleeping. You had to get out of bed and get dressed. That’s a lot. You did enjoy it when you didn’t get the call first thing in the morning so you could laze around with your amazing, though mostly secret, boyfriend Spencer.

This morning, you laid around in bed with him tucked into your side for a whole 45 minutes. Then you both got up, made, and ate your breakfast in your pajamas. Now, you were taking a shared shower. You were scrubbing Spencer’s head, making the shampoo foamed up. It was nice when you got to stay in each other’s company without stressing about perception or cases. It felt like it was just you two in the world, wrapped up in your own warm and foggy universe.

And then there was a knock at the door. You huffed. You dropped your hands from Spencer’s hair, making him groan. You rinsed your hand in the stream of water from the shower head. You tugged the shower door open, slipping out to wrap yourself in your robe.

“I got it, you rinse your hair out.” You said. You slipped into your house shoes, leaving the attached bathroom to Spencer’s bedroom. You headed across the apartment to the front door. You looked through the peephole, dropping your jaw when you saw Derek. You muttered a curse and pulled the door open.

“Hello, Derek.” He raised a brow at you, looking you up and down. You opened the door further, Derek stepping through. He stopped near the door, looking around the living room.

“Is Pretty Boy here?” Derek asked. You nodded, pointing your thumb back at the bathroom.

“Yes, my water broke back at my apartment so I’m borrowing Reid’s shower. He’s in his bedroom right now, reading. I’ll go get him.” You said, skittering off to Reid’s bedroom. Derek nodded, dropping himself onto Spencer’s couch. He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, crossing his ankles.

“Feet off the coffee table.” You said, slipping into Reid’s bedroom. You burst through the bathroom door.

“Derek’s here. You have to get dressed and pretend like we weren’t just in the shower together if you want to keep up this act.” You said. Spencer groaned and stuck his head out. You waited in the living room with Derek as Spencer rushed out of the shower.

A handful of minutes later, Spencer joined you two. He was in a fresh set of pajamas, slippers and everything. His hair was damp but it could be perceived as he took a shower earlier. You doubted Derek would believe that.

“Good book?” Derek asked. Spencer nodded. Derek bounced his foot, still on the coffee table.

“No feet on the coffee table,” Spencer muttered. Derek dropped his feet and stood up.

“Right well. Pretty Boy. I came over here to pay you back for last week.” Derek said. Derek moved across the living room, standing in front of Spencer. Derek shoved his hand into his pocket, digging out his wallet. You watched them from the couch. Derek handed Spencer a few bills before spinning back around to head for the front door. Spencer thanked him, following after him because his wallet was in the key dish next to the door. Derek held his hand up, turning back around to face Spencer.

“Also, you two are going to have to try a little harder to hide this dating thing from Penelope,” Derek said. Spencer looked over at you for a split second.

“We’re not dating,” Spencer said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I told you, my water broke in my apartment.” You added, crossing your arms.

“And Reid still has shampoo in his hair behind his ear. You have matching house slippers, cute by the way. Your favorite book is sitting on Reid’s counter. Your keys are in his bowl. You two are stuck together like glue at work. You know Pretty Boy’s house rules. I saw your favorite cereal sitting over Reid’s Chex mix. There are pictures of you together on Reid’s fridge. If you guys really think this is going to fly under Pelenope’s radar, you’re missing a couple of screws.” Derek said, turning back to the door.

“Don’t tell Penelope. Let her figure it out on her own, please. Once she finds out, everyone will know.” You said, avoiding Derek’s eyes to stare at the coffee table. Spencer hummed in agreement.

“You know I can’t lie to her, but I won't bring it up,” Derek said. He faced Spencer again, slapping his shoulder. “Look at you, growing up.” Spencer pouted his lips, staring at the ground.

“See you at work,” Spencer said. Derek hummed.

“yeah, whatever, losers.” You added. Derek gave you a small smile, waving before slipping out of Reid’s apartment. Spencer locked his door again and looked over at you. You stood up and dragged him back to the shower.

Three days later, Penelope did figure it out. She peiced it together when she watched you make Spencer his coffee and set it in front of him. She saw your hand resting on his shoulder for just a second longer than a friend’s would and almost dropped her Hello Kitty mug. Within minutes, everyone knew and Hotch was calling you and Reid into his office.

You fully tought he was going to tear you both a new one but it ended with him handing you both a stack of paperwork and congratulating you. So your movie and take-out date night turned into paperwork and take-out date night.

[bbystark]

hi beautiful and wonderful writer, I requested the part 2 of Simon being a bad stalker and I need moreee

It is so gooodddd

♡ badstalker!simon extras ♡

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: just more of what simon would do to make your life easier while he was simultaneously being a lil freak stalker. mdni

a/n: thank you sm for requesting pt 2 and more anon ily!!! i bet you guys thought i up and left again, surprise, i am no longer depressed and am manic and full of inspo. enjoy xoxoxo

simon was constantly around, lurking in shadows. and when he couldn't be near you physically, he was watching you through the cameras, stalking socials, you name it

he didn't really want to admit it to himself, but he felt guilty when he was deployed or was otherwise taken away from you.

that's really where the (strange) acts of service started, he was trying to ease his guilt of not being there to protect you by doubling down with his affections when he could

it started with things you would never know about, trailing you home to make sure you got back safely, watching your house as often as he could to make sure no one broke in, one time cleaning up after your cat broke a glass while you were gone. "bad cat arn't ya" he had mumbled, "gonna giv your mum a heart attack one of these days when I ain't around."

then he was leaving you umbrellas when he had watched you forget one in the morning as you left for work. linking prepaid cards to some of your random bills, smiling to himself as he watched you discover you "magically" had a few extra dollars left over at the end of the month and bought yourself something special.

hated seeing you sad, thought you deserved nothing but pure happiness 24/7. called and complained to corporate about a fellow employee you were having issues with, making up some lie to get them in trouble all to prevent you from dealing with the stress of workplace drama

he can think of dozens upon dozens of times he silently showed his devotion to you. it always left him with a whole feeling, like he was finally doing something right.

he didn't realize it, but being silent and distant stopped being enough for him when he was sitting in his bunk one night, drowning out soap's god-awful snores with your voice drifting through his cheap earbuds.

you were on call with a friend, and simon couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips when you giggled at something dumb your friend had said.

"i'm serious! this has to be my year or something, i'm having the best luck ever and i have no idea why."

he went a little rigid at that, feeling the overwhelming need for you to know it was him making your life so good, not some mysterious force of the universe.

it got worse after that

he'd watch you sleep, adjusting you when your neck was in an uncomfortable position, (bad time to be a heavy sleeper), shooing your cat away from bothering you, re-cover you when you'd seek out the blankets you had kicked off 10 seconds prior.

started hanging out in your house a lot, desperate to be as close as you as possible. military training would kick in as he would silently organize forgotten corners of your house, cleaning spaces you wouldn't have bothered with because you never see them

even replaces the batteries in the smoke alarm when he realizes there were none, knowing you had probably taken them out to make it stop chirping and forgotten to replace them. hides a carbon dioxide alarm too, just in case

he was feeling particularly desperate one day and took a shower, lathering himself in your scented body wash while working his fist up and down his swollen cock, imagining you were with him. you were mortified when you return home to see drops of water still dripping from the walls of your shower.

he flies too close to the sun, getting sloppy. you're suddenly more on edge, casting more glances over your shoulder. he stops making as many visits to your house when you start seeing a therapist.

that doesn't stop him from reaching out in other ways though, leaving notes, calling you, sending texts and random gifts.

this time his advances scare you a little less, and intrigue you more than they should.

he almost wishes he had been more careful. almost. he can't deny the thrill that goes through him at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he isn't deluded, and this could actually work.

he'd just have to wait and see.

besides, he wasn't exactly confident in his ability to leave you alone whether you wanted him to or not. and that is something he could promise.

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 9 - Nothing Stays the Same

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 8.2k words. Why can things never stay the same, the omega just wants to be happy.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (scenting), use of weapons, Non-consensual drugging, blood, descriptions of wounds, horrible military inaccuracies, angst, nightmares, memory blackouts, gaslighting.

AN: This story arc is definitely one of the most fun I have ever written. Chapter's might come out a little quicker since I'm having so much fun writing. (No promises check HERE for updates)

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

You wake before the sun is up. You would have to get used to early mornings again after you spent the last week getting as much rest as possible. The sun is just peeking through the clouds as you finish dressing and tiptoe through the barracks. As soon as you make it outside you take in a deep breath of pine filled air as you cross the green over to the lab. As you expected, Dr. Miller is the only one here this early. His head pops up from the desk as soon as you walk in. 

“Good morning.” He smiles as you walk over to him. 

“Good morning.” You smile at him sitting down on a stool next to him as he types something on a laptop. 

“What are we doing today?” you ask, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. 

“Nothing too serious. Drink this,” he says, handing you a plastic cup filled with what looks like water. 

“What is it?” you ask. He looks up at you quickly, you can smell his alpha now. 

“If I tell you it could change the results. I’ll tell you after you’ve drunk it.” He smiles. You smile at him, swallowing your nerves. You bring it to your lips and drink it down as he watches you. It doesn’t taste of anything. Maybe it’s just water. You think you can taste salt but maybe that’s just your mind trying too hard. You put the empty cup down on the table. He smiles again, turning back to the laptop. 

“So John is your alpha now?” he asks. Your mouth suddenly goes dry. 

“Yeah,” you say, smacking your lips together. 

“What about Professor Hale?” 

You’re hit with a wave of dizziness. Your hand flies to the back of your neck. You cough, looking at Dr. Miller. He turns looking at you. Your body feels heavy. Adrenaline kicks in and you stand up off the stool. 

What’s happening? 

He gets up off his stool too as your vision goes blurry. Your body collapses to the ground. 

“It’s a mild sedative, you won’t remember any of this,” he says as he bends down in front of you, his words echoing in your ears. 

“It didn’t have to be like this,” he sighs. Then everything goes black. 

You jump awake. You’re laid in the bed in the exam room. Your head is spinning, and you don’t remember what happened. There’s a pain at the back of your neck. Your hand goes to feel the familiar indent of John’s mark. You’re alone, the pale yellow walls being lit up with shades of red. 

What happened? 

You came here to see Dr. Miller. 

What happened?

You get up making your way to the door. When it opens and you head to the stairs. You can only smell alpha in the air. It has to be Dr. Miller. You grip the banister as you walk down the steps. You can see the top of his head as you reach the bottom and he turns to look at you.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he calls, smiling at you. “I went to take some blood and you passed out.” 

You look at him, confused, as you make it to the bottom. 

“I’ve never seen you drop so fast. Have you been eating properly?” he asks as he comes over to you. You try to remember the last meal you had. 

“Pork something,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“The canteen hasn't had the nicest food lately,” he says smiling. You look up at him. He was taking your blood and you passed out. He's looking at you with a concerned look on his face. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You can lay down for a few more minutes if you want?” 

You shake your head. You need to get back to the barracks before anyone notices you’re gone. 

“Take it easy,” he calls after you as you leave the lab. Your hand drops from your neck as you see the sun rising over the top of the trees. You take in a deep breath, and the cool morning air fills your lungs. You can smell the pine, the wet ground. Your head feels fuzzy. 

What the hell happened?

Dr. Piper wakes you up by shaking your shoulder. She's smiling at you as you blink awake.

“It’s almost noon, thought you might want to eat.” 

You nod, swinging your legs out the bed. 

“What’s that?” you ask, looking at a pile of something on your desk. Dr. Piper looks around. 

“Simon got you some books. He and John managed to pull some strings so you would have something to do while they’re away.” 

“While they’re away?” you ask standing up. 

“Yes, I’ll let John explain,” she says, leading you out of the room. You make it into the common room. John is sitting at the table but you can’t see anyone else. 

“‘Afternoon,” he says, smiling as you sit next to him at the table. 

“Tea?” Dr. Piper asks. You shake your head, and John already has a mug in his hands. You both look up at her and she seems to take that as her cue to leave. John puts his hand on your thigh under the table as he waits until the door closes and he’s sure the doctor is gone before talking. 

“We have to go away. For a mission. It shouldn’t take us long, a few days at the most,” he says. You look up at him.  

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he says 

“You’re a soldier,” you say, swallowing away the lump in your throat.

“Yeah, but it’s better if you don’t know.” 

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” You feel sick again. The thought of John or anyone in your pack getting hurt makes a knot form in your stomach. You want John to say something. You want him to tell you it’s all going to be okay. He doesn’t say anything though, and it feels like the seconds are dragging on. 

“We may be soldiers but we’re special forces. Counter-terrorism. We stop the worst of the worst people,” he says. You look up at him waiting for him to continue. You remember what Dr. Miller said that one time: ‘They will kill for you, they have killed for you.’

“You kill the bad guys,” you say, forcing a smile. 

“Exactly, you don’t need to worry. We’re experts,” he says. 

“How long will you be gone for?” 

“A few days. 2 at the most.” 

“Let me guess, you can’t tell me where,” you say, smiling, trying to lighten the mood. You want him to know you’re okay with this. It’s just a part of their life you need to accept.

“California. That’s all I can tell you,” he says, and you smile. You get the feeling he wasn’t supposed to tell you even that. Who would you tell though, Dr. Piper? She probably already knows. Dr. Miller? What’s he going to do? 

“Bring me a souvenir?” You smile at him, trying to keep the mood light. He smiles. 

“Thank you for the books,” you say. He squeezes your thigh. 

“It was Simon who suggested it actually, made the boys take a trip to a charity shop. I’m sorry if you’ve read some of them already. 

“It’s fine honestly, thank you.” You’re grateful for something to do other than watching TV. 

“When we come back would you be interested in helping with some more training?” he asks. You nod. You like being helpful, especially if you can help them. His hand leaves your leg, and he gets up. 

“Lunch?” he asks. You nod, following him out.

Ghost walks towards the top of the hill backing up on the house they were due to raid. Soap was by his side. Price and Gaz were on the other side of the building with SWAT.

“Hill’s a pain in the ass,” Soap pants as they make it to the overview point. 

“You need to workout more,” Ghost sighs, getting into position laying down and setting up his sniper. Soap lays next to him pulling out some binoculars. 

“Nice house, could you imagine something like that LT?” 

Ghost sighs looking down at the massive house with the immaculately mowed garden. There’s a pool and gazebo. Why have a pool when you live less than a kilometer from the beach.

“Bravo-2 in position,” Ghost says over the radio, ignoring Soap’s comments. 

“A mansion with a pool, a nice big lawn, surrounded by greenery,” Soap says. The light is low in the sky. It’s still early morning. The best time to catch this guy. 

“Get in position, Soap,” he says without looking over at him. He hears Soap sigh shuffling down the hill to drop behind the wall surrounding the garden. Ghost’s watching the house for signs of life. His job is to watch their backs to make sure there are no surprises.

“Bravo-1 in position. Any movement?” Price’s voice comes in Ghost’s ear. He looks through his scope checking the windows again. 

“Negative,” he responds as he sees Soap jump the wall. 

“Remember boys, as soon as the place is clear we’ll send in the locals,” Laswell’s voice states over the comms. They didn’t need to be here for this. Ghost and Price knew that. This could have easily been done by the local constabulary. Or even Shadow Company. Shepherd is doing this on purpose to get them off the base.

It felt wrong leaving the omega alone with the threat of Professor Hale hanging over them. Price had spoken with Dr. Montgomery though. She wasn’t a soldier but she was willing to protect the omega with her life and that’s all they needed. The sound of dogs barking pulls Ghost’s attention to the backdoor. 

“Shite, no one said anything about a dog,” Soap says, moving away from the back door. There are lights coming on in the house now. 

“Got movement, upstairs,” Ghost relays. Shit, they’ve been caught. 

“Watcher, call in the troops we’re going in hot,” Price says as Ghost starts to put his rifle away. “Ghost, Soap, take the back door.” 

Ghost’s not even paying attention as he puts the rifle down, sliding down the hill and jumping the wall to meet with Soap. The dogs are barking again as downstairs lights are being turned on. 

“Bravo-2, we’ve got movement here.” 

“Remember, there are civilians inside with the mark,” Price says.

“The mark is a male, 40, is to be considered armed and dangerous,” Laswell says. 

“Copy,” Ghost replies as he stacks up on the door with Soap. Price starts a countdown as Ghost can hear the man inside trying to wrangle the dogs. The countdown stops and on zero Soap kicks the door in.

Everything happens fast: there’s shouting, banging, voices of people from different parts of the house. Soap has a man in the kitchen on his stomach, hands behind his back in zipties. As Ghost makes it through the massive kitchen and dining room to a door, he spies Price and the rest of the officers fanning out. Soap comes up beside him.

“Where do you reckon the dogs are?” he asks as Ghost scans the adjoining room. 

“Garage by the sound of it,” he replies. That's good that they’re out of the way for now.

“We’ve got one civilian in the kitchen,” Soap relays over the radio. There's a steady stream of information coming through the radio now. Price and Gaz finish securing the ground floor before meeting with Ghost and Soap in the living room. Police and SWAT were moving around the house securing the civilians. No sign of their main man though.   

“LT wanna clear the garage?” Soap shouts. Ghost turns to nod at him. He walks back through the kitchen and SWAT are talking to the man Soap tied up earlier. Ghost gets a good look at him as he passes, following Soap to a door. Definitely not the mark, too young, not tall enough.  

Soap stacks up on one side of the door while Ghost takes the other, moving his weapon to fit more comfortably in his hands. 

“I hate shooting dogs,” Soap says. 

“Don’t. I'll do it then,” Ghost says.

“You’re a cold bastard sometimes you know,” Soap says, tipping his head. Ghost rolls his eyes pressing down on the door handle as he pushes it open. He scans with his weapon and there are 2 cars in the massive garage. He walks in with Soap behind him, there very well could be someone in here.

They still haven't found the mark and there are no signs of the dogs. Ghost and Soap split, with Ghost walking behind the cars and Soap walking in front of them. They walk in sync, slow as they scan each corner. 

It’s when they’re standing between the cars that someone springs out. Ghost doesn’t have much time to determine if it’s a threat or not. He sees the weapon in his hands. Soap is shouting at him over the hood of the car. Shots ring out, and the man drops.

“Contact, garage,” Ghost shouts as he hears people rushing in. He looks over at Soap. He can smell the blood in the air, he can smell pain.

“Johnny!” Simon calls for his attention as they walk round to check the body. Ghost watches him looking for where Soap is injured. There’s the body of the man, blood pooling from his head. 

“Watcher, target eliminated,” Ghost says as he watches Soap lower his weapon, his hand pressing on his shoulder. Now he can see the blood.  

“Good job boys, sending exfil, we’ll leave the clean up to the locals,” Laswell says in his ear. 

“Ghost what’s the sitrep?” Price asks.

“Mark down, Soap’s hit,” Ghost says, letting his weapon swing down going over to him. 

“I’m good LT, it’s just a scratch.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be the judge of that,” Ghost says, half dragging him out of the garage and back into the building. He pushes him down on the first available seat. Soap is still protesting when Gaz comes round the corner.

“What’d ya do Soap?” he asks as Ghost pulls his sleeve up. He’s been shot through the shoulder. 

“How do you feel?” Ghost asks. 

“I’m fine LT, don’t need you fussing,” Soap says as he looks up at Ghost. A shoulder shot could take him out the field for weeks. Ghost starts pressing bandages into the wound as Soap winces.

“Holy shit,” Gaz says looking at the back of his shoulder where the exit wound should be. “It was through and through right?” Gaz looks up at Ghost who looks confused, he moves to see what Gaz is looking at. It’s definitely through and through but the bleeding has stopped. The exit wounds indicate the bullet shattered but the smaller wounds are healing up before their very eyes. Ghost takes the bandage off the entrance wound. It’s stopped bleeding already.

“What is it?” Soap asks, trying to look, but Ghost grabs his arms, keeping him in place. 

“It’s healing already,” Gaz says. 

“How do you feel?” Ghost asks him. Soap stands up moving his shoulder. 

“Fine, we’re super soldiers, remember,” Soap says playfully, nudging Ghost. Price walks round the corner taking the scene in for a second. 

“You solid?” he asks Soap who nods at him. “Gaz, Soap go help SWAT out front. Try not to piss them off before exfil gets here.” He sighs watching Soap pull the skin around his wound. 

“Don’t play with it, it’ll get infected,” Gaz says, swatting his hand away and placing a bandage over it.

“We’re fucking super soldiers mate, a little infection isn’t going to slow me,” Soap says. Ghost shakes his head. He must still have adrenaline running through his system. Price looks up at Ghost moving so Gaz and Soap can leave. Price nods him back to the garage which has been opened out to the garden now. He can see officers and SWAT doing their thing, a tent has been set up with a table and a laptop. Vans are being driven into the driveway.

Price walks down the steps to look over at the body while Ghost follows him, but something catches his eyes and before he reaches Price, he picks up a piece of paper. His stomach sinks. Now that Soap is not in the room, he can smell the familiar smell of blood and death. There’s something else there too. Beta. 

“Look at this,” Ghost says, taking a step and handing the paper to Price. He reads the same thing Ghost read a few seconds earlier.

“Omega initiative. Shit.” He looks back at the body, they both do. Ghost killed him. He had a weapon in his hand, and he shot Soap. 

“Whoever doesn’t go back to work for Hale has a death sentence,” Ghost says as a matter of fact putting the pieces together. 

“Not necessarily, our orders were to take him alive,” Price corrects him. “Back to Graves.” 

“Back to Hale,” Ghost says. Price sighs, turning to him he folds the paper up putting it in one of his vest pockets.

“Seems like Hale’s doing a bit of a recruitment drive.”  

“What are you reading?” Dr. Miller asks as you sit on the stool reading the last few pages of the chapter. 

“Moby-Dick.” You show him the cover, smiling.

“Here, smell this one,” he says, pressing a q-tip under your nose. You wince at the strong smell. 

“Smells like chemicals,” you say, turning the page. He sighs writing something down. 

“Try this one,” he says with a new q-tip and a new smell. You breathe it in. It’s not as strong. 

“Smells like beta,” you say. He sighs again and writes something else down. 

“Stronger or weaker than the last one?” 

“Weaker,” you say, unsure. 

“How’s it going?” you ask. He seems frustrated about something. 

“The scents are either too strong or not strong enough to mask anything.” You watch as he dips a clean q-tip in another clear liquid. He sniffs it then holds it under your nose. 

“Smells sweet, like apple pie,” you say. It’s the smell of your mother. Or at least the smell you used to think was what your mother smelt like. You put the book down, marking your page. It makes you sad. Your head is starting to spin after smelling so many different things.

“Smells like sadness.” You sigh. 

“I’m sure your pack will be back soon. It’s been 2 days,” he says. You nod, standing up. You don’t want to do this anymore. 

“One more, come on,” he says, reaching out and lightly pulling your arm. You sigh, turning back to him, letting him push the q-tip under your nose. You breathe it in. 

“Alpha,” you say. He nods, smiling. 

“You should get some rest. You did good today,” he says. You nod, gripping the book and heading back to the barracks. You hate being in the barracks when your pack’s not around. It just feels empty. You walk in to see Dr. Piper making coffee. Almost as soon as they had left, she had moved a coffee machine in. 

“Hey, where have you been so early?” she asks, stirring a cup of something. 

“Dr. Miller needed my help for the scent blocker.” She looks confused for a second as she sits at the table. 

“Do you help him a lot?” she asks. You shrug. You’re tired now. 

“Not really, I just wish it wasn’t so early,” you say, sitting down opposite her. 

“I’ll have a word with him. You should get a good night's rest,” she says, sipping on her coffee. “How have you been sleeping? Have the nightmares been getting better?” 

You nod. They haven’t been as bad. It feels like everything gets worse when your pack’s not around though. You miss them. 

“When do you think they’ll be back?” you ask. 

“Well, actually Kate told me they should be back tonight. I didn't want to tell you because they still might get held up,” she says. You look up at her smiling. It makes you feel warm thinking about the fact they could be back tonight.

You’re too excited to take a nap now. You smile at her, almost skipping down to your room. You look at the sun rising over the trees, the pile of books and the scent of nature in the air makes you happy. Happier than you’ve been in years. 

You curl up in your nest, feeling the warm bubble inside you get stronger. You end up in your nest with a stack of books. You manage to make it through Moby-Dick before you start feeling sleepy. Your mind wanders to your pack wondering what they’re doing as you find yourself dozing off a few pages into your next book.

You’re back in the lab. You’re laying in a bed. It’s a hospital bed. You can’t smell anything in the air, but you know where you are. You’re back in the bunker, the horrible dark place. The door opens and you expect the Professor to walk in. Instead it’s Dr. Miller. You don’t relax though. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you try to move but you can't. You're tied down. He doesn’t say anything, going over to a table and picking something up. You try to move and as you can’t, panic rises in you. You feel sick as you see him turn round. He’s holding a scalpel in his hand. The door opens again and it is Graves, the man who went into your personal space, who ordered your nest destroyed. You stare at him wide eyes, confused as you look back over at Dr. Miller. 

“What’s happening?” you ask, panic rising in your voice as you try to move but you can’t. You’re pinned down too tightly. 

“It didn't have to be like this,” Dr. Miller says, pulling a surgical mask over his face. 

“No, please,” you plead as he nods at Graves whose hands land on your face, pulling your head to the side uncomfortably. The back of your neck is exposed as you can feel Dr. Miller touch your mark. You plead for him to stop, but he doesn’t say anything. You scream as his scalpel makes contact with your skin. Everything goes blurry as tears stream down your face. You’re fighting with Graves’ grip as best as you can, trying to move your head. There’s more pain now, another cut and everything goes black.  

You wake screaming. Your hand flies to the back of your neck. You can feel your mark, the indents John’s teeth left. You’re shaking, panting, it feels like you can’t breathe, your nails digging into your hand. You hear commotion as your door is flung open. Dr. Piper is there. She rushes over, her cool hands finding your face forcing you to look at her as you rub the back of your neck. 

“You’re okay, it’s just a dream,” she says. You’re not listening to her. You smell alpha in the air, and looking behind her you can see Johnny in the doorway. They’re back. You look down at Dr. Piper, trying to take deep breaths but it just comes out as sobs.

She pulls you into her arms as you let your hand drop from the back of your neck. You close your eyes breathing in her calming scent. She’s shushing you, rubbing your back. You open your eyes, blinking the tears away looking over at the doorway. John is there now, standing in the doorway outside the threshold of your space. 

“John,” you breathe. Dr. Piper lets you go as John steps into the room. She turns to look and gets up. 

“Hey,” he says, kneeling down by you. Your nest is a mess. You must have been thrashing around in your sleep. You don’t wait, throwing yourself in his arms almost knocking him over. You see Dr. Piper leave, pulling the door closed and shooing the others away. You need this time now with your alpha. You close your eyes breathing in his scent, letting it fill your lungs. He’s back and he’s safe. 

“I’ve missed you,” you say, gripping him tighter like this is a dream too and he’s going to vanish at any second. 

“We’ve only been gone 2 days, not even 48 hours.” You can hear the smile in his voice as his hands run over you. You break away from the hug. 

“What was the dream about?” he asks. 

“The bunker, Graves was there,” the memory is fading. There was someone else too, but you can’t remember who. The Professor, probably. 

“You’re never going back there. We destroyed it, remember,” he says, smiling at you. You nod. You know the place is gone. It’s not gone in your mind though.

“Want to lie down in my bed?” he asks, and you nod. You do, you want to be near him. You support yourself on him as he helps you off the floor. He holds his hand out and you take it letting him wrap his arm around you. 

“You know Graves is never going to be coming in here again. You’re safe here,” he says. You can see in the common room.  Johnny and Kyle poke their heads round the corner and you smile at them. John presses you into his room, and the place is messier than you’ve ever seen it. A bag half unpacked is in the middle of the room, and there’s an open laptop and weapons on the desk. They make your breath catch in your throat. You walk over and sit on the bed. 

“Did you kill anyone?” you ask as he pulls your chin up to look at him. He shakes his head. You can smell the lie in the air. 

“You don’t have to lie,” you say, swallowing. He looks at you like he’s deciding what to do, letting out a sigh and coming to sit next to you on the bed. 

“You told me you wouldn’t worry,” he says.

“I didn’t worry. I just missed you,” you say as he strokes your thigh. 

“Lay down,” he instructs. You follow his instructions, laying on the side of the bed pressed up against the wall. He lays next to you and you turn your body to the side so you can look at him. 

“So, we have this mission. One guy, suspected to be smuggling and selling large quantities of pharmaceuticals to private buyers. We work with the local police and SWAT but Commander Graves wants him brought in alive. Unfortunately, he managed to get a weapon and took a shot at John-”

“Johnny got shot?” you gasp, propping yourself up in the bad. You feel a wave of nausea wash over you. Someone in your pack got hurt.

“He’s fine,” John says, his hand resting on your shoulder pushing you back down on the bed. Your eyes dart to the door. You saw him in your room, and he did look fine. Maybe he is fine. Your heart still aches for him though, the image of him being injured is swimming around in your head. 

“John’s fine but Simon shot the guy and unfortunately he died. The police secured the house and found the evidence they needed to arrest the other members of the family then we came back,” he finishes explaining. You swallow hard. You knew they were doing horrible things, they’re soldiers. 

“Does that happen a lot? Getting shot?” you ask scooting closer to him. 

“No, we don’t make a habit out of it.” He smiles, his fingers coming to brush hair out of your face. You close your eyes relaxing into the pillow. 

“Dr. Montgomery told me you’ve been helping Dr. Miller?” You nod. “You should get some rest. I’ll wake you up for dinner?” he asks, you nod again. You still feel tired, all the scenting this morning must have really taken it out of you. He leans over and kisses you on the forehead as you get under the covers. He gets up, takes his laptop and leaves the room. You smile rolling over to his side of the bed. His pillows have his scent. You relax, breathing it in, closing your eyes. They’re back and they’re safe. It’s not getting easier though, each time they go away. 

You wake to shouting. John isn’t in the bed, and something is going on in the common room. Your body feels stiff, and you can already tell you’ve been asleep for way more than a few hours.  

“Fuck off!” That’s Johnny, you can hear his accent cutting thick through the air. 

“Shepherd wanted me to deliver the message personally.” It’s Graves. You swallow, opening the door to the hall. You can see John and Simon standing there both with their arms crossed. Johnny is the one who looks back and sees you. He walks up stopping in front of you. You try to look around him, his hand lands on your shoulder. 

“What's going on?” you ask. 

“‘Hey sleepyhead, how ‘bout you go back to bed for a bit,” he says smiling at you. You can see it’s getting dark out. You must have slept for a good few hours.

“Is that her?” you hear Graves call. You freeze, reaching out and gripping Johnny’s arm. John said he would never be back. 

“Time to go Graves. Don’t you have a base to take care of?” John says. 

“You have until the morning,” he says. You swallow hard looking up at Johnny. You can smell him projecting a calming scent. You wonder if he and Kyle have had time to practice. Or maybe they are just naturals. You hear a door close and let go of Johnny’s arm. He smiles, putting his arm around your shoulders, and you stop, nudging it off.

“You were shot Johnny,” you say. He smiles, putting it back round you and continuing to walk you into the common room. 

“Super soldier remember, thanks to that drug of yours.” Simon is still standing with his arms crossed watching Graves walk across the green back towards the main building. John is sitting down at the table with Kyle sipping tea. 

“Sorry we woke you,” Kyle says looking at you sympathetically. You look at John. He looks tired. You feel sad all of a sudden, like you want to reach out and hug him. He looks up at you and meets your eye-line for a second. A shiver runs down your spine. 

“Did you get into trouble?” you ask

“No,” it’s Simon’s voice that speaks up. So harsh in the air you almost jump. John pushes his chair out getting up with his cup of tea. You feel bad, like you’ve done something wrong. You watch as he disappears into his office without saying a word. 

“Sit down, lass,” Johnny says, placing a cup of tea down in front of you. For someone who doesn't drink it, Johnny somehow manages to make the best tea. You nod, sitting down. Simon finally moves. He walks behind you knocking on John’s office. He doesn’t wait for a response though before going in. 

“What did Graves want?” you ask. Johnny and Kyle look at each other then back at you. 

“‘Nothing you need to worry about,” Johnny smiles. You try to ignore the yearning to know more. You wish they wouldn’t be so secretive. You wish they would tell you what they were doing. No, you don’t deserve that information , you remind yourself. You’re not a soldier, just an omega . It only feels like it’s been a few seconds of awkward silence before John and Simon walk back out into the common room. You sip your tea as John sits at the table opposite you. 

“Professor Hale has requested to have contact with you.” You freeze at his words. The tea suddenly tastes horrible in your mouth. You want to spit it out instead you swallow it down letting it burn your throat. 

“You can say no, but he wants you to know the option is there.” It feels like John is looking into your soul, his eyes harsh as he tries to read your reaction. The Professor has always been such a constant in your life. You think back to what Dr. Miller said. Maybe he did love you? Maybe this was his way of saying sorry? Or maybe he’ll let you stay with your pack, watch you from a distance, and then spring when you least expect it. It makes you feel sick. 

“I—” You start but the words catch in your throat. What if this was a test, some weird fucked up experiment. You look up at John. Simon is standing behind him with his arms crossed. You trust them, there’s no way this is a test. Does Dr. Piper know? What would she say? She worked with him for years. Maybe she would like to communicate with him again. You close your eyes, sighing.

“I don’t want to see him,” you say, looking down at your tea, gripping it harder like you’re about to be told you don’t have a choice. You feel guilty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s like it’s the end of a massive part of your life. If you never see him again, will you ever forgive yourself? A hand rests on the top of your back, and you look up seeing Kyle smile down at you. You look over at John. He’s watching you, and you can’t tell if he looks disappointed or not. Simon’s still standing behind him with his arms crossed. You can never tell what he’s thinking.  

“If you ever change your mind.” 

You shake your head. 

“He’s been the only other constant in my life. He did love me. I feel like I should give him the benefit of the doubt.” You look back down.

“You don’t owe him anything,” John says. You don’t know if you believe him or not. The last time you saw the Professor, he was breaking your ankle for trying to leave. Kyle's hand runs across your back. 

“He tortured you. You spent your whole life being hurt. He doesn’t deserve the right to even ask. You never have to see him again. You shouldn’t see him again,” Simon says, his voice is sharp in the air. You look up at him. You’ve come to learn that Simon’s not the most talkative person but he means everything he says.

“He’s right,” Kyle says. “You have no reason to talk to him.”

You look down at your mug. You feel the tears coming, your eyes welling up as you try to stop them, squeezing your eyes shut. You have to be strong, you don’t get to cry for him. Simon’s right and Kyle is right. You never have to see him again. When you open your eyes everything is blurry. You swallow the lump in your throat away. 

You don’t know what happens but the next thing you know Kyle’s hand has left your back and everyone is walking out of the building. John stays seated. You bring your sleeve up to wipe your eyes. You try to hide it but you’re not doing the best job. John waits until the building is empty before getting up and sitting in the seat next to you. He turns your chair to face him slightly. You let go of your cup, as you turn to look at him. His hand comes up to your chin pulling your face up to look at him. He leans down and kisses your forehead. 

“Simon’s right, Professor Hale doesn’t deserve the right to even ask you. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t even be asking,” he says, his thumb stroking your cheek. He brushes one of your tears away. 

“I feel guilty,” you admit. You want to look down but John’s hand on your face won’t let you. John nods.

“You don’t have anything to feel guilty about.” His thumb brushes your cheek. You nod. He stands up, offering you his hand. You take it and he leads you to the sofa. You sit down and you sit next to him. He spreads his arm over the back of the sofa and you smile at him as you lean up against him. He reaches over to pick up the remote. 

“More of the screaming women?” he asks, flicking through the channel as smile.

“You pick,” you say, snuggling up against him more. 

“John?” He hums rubbing your arm. “Are you going to kill the Professor?” There’s silence. You don’t know why you were expecting a quick answer. You don’t know if you’re going to like the answer. 

“I would kill him. If I had to.” You look up at him. He smiles at you. 

“Do you ever regret it? Killing anyone?” 

“From time to time, sometimes people get mixed up in all sorts of things.” 

“How do you do it?” 

“The good outweighs the bad.” He squeezes you tighter. “You don’t need to worry about that kind of stuff.” You sigh, stretching your arm across his stomach. You let yourself relax. You don’t know how you would feel if the Professor was to die. Maybe you would feel relief, or maybe you would feel even more guilty.

John starts talking about what’s happening on the TV but you’re only half paying attention, your mind preoccupied with the Professor. It doesn’t feel like you’ve been laid there for very long when the door to the building opens. John turns and you sit up to see who’s walked in.

“Johnny’s shoulder’s playing up. Si’s taken him to see the doc,” Kyle says as he sticks his head in the door. 

“Dr. Piper?” you ask as you sit up, a lump forming in your stomach. John said he was fine. Kyle nods and John gets up off the sofa. You follow him as he walks out of the building. All of you take a quick walk across the green to the lab. When you get in, a few scientists look over at you all. You see Dr. Miller who smiles at you. 

“She’s upstairs if you’re looking for her,” he says. John thanks him and you make your way up to the medical room. When you walk in, Simon is leaned up against the wall on the far side of the room, his arms crossed. Johnny is sat on the edge of the bed with his shirt off. Dr. Piper’s taking the bandage off his shoulder. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you see him topless. He’s fitter than John is, and hairier too which you didn’t expect. He winks as you and you look away trying not to feel embarrassed. 

“It’s healed fine. You say it’s still painful?” she asks, pressing down on and around where the scar is. 

“It healed that quickly?” John asks, shocked crossing his arms as he leans in to look. 

“Yeah, one of the wonders of the drug,” she says, smiling. “If it still hurts tomorrow we’ll do an x-ray but it’s most likely your bones just taking a little longer to heal. I’ll get you a sling.” She heads through the door in the room. You peek your head in seeing a bed and some storage. 

“Physical wounds and broken bones will repair themselves relatively quickly, most of the time within 24-48 hours, as long as you’re in good health. Blood is a big factor too. Lose too much of it and you will not be able to repair yourself,” Dr. Piper says as she hands Johnny his shirt back. He pulls it on. 

“What about getting sick?” Kyle asks.

“You have a stronger immune system but you can still get sick, also of course the healthier you are the better it works,” Dr. Piper says. 

“Okay so we don’t have to worry about getting shot in the field,” Johnny chuckles.

“Well if you get shot in the head or the heart, you’ll still probably be dead. Trauma is still trauma,” Dr. Piper says, helping him secure the sling.

“I can show you,” you say looking round the room. They look at you confused for a few seconds. You walk over to a tray and pick up a scalpel.

“Woah, wait!” They all start to protest as you bring the blade to your lower arm.

“It’s okay, the Professor used to make me do it all the time,” you say, shrugging. 

“Stop!” John’s voice is harsh in the air as you look at him waiting for what he will say next. “You don’t have to hurt yourself to show us.” You look up at Dr. Piper who shrugs. You move putting the scalpel back down. You feel the collective sigh in the room as you look around them. 

“Okay, so we still need to continue to treat injuries seriously,” John says to everyone. Johnny jumps down off the bed.

“If you want I can look into maybe making something that can speed up the wound healing process? Professor Hale was pretty close to a breakthrough before you rescued the omega,” Dr. Piper says as she walks around everyone, opening the door to back out to the lab.

“Sure, if you think you can,” John says as everyone piles out. You smile at Dr. Piper as you pass her. 

“You should all get some food before the mess closes,” John says, stopping at the top of the steps. 

“What about you?” you ask him. Now that you think of it, when does he ever get time to eat? You’ve only seen him eat a few times. 

“I’ll catch up, just have to have a word with Dr. Montgomery first,” he says, placing his hand on the small of your back and gently pressing you to the steps. You sigh following Kyle down the steps. The lab is empty. Most of the scientists will have gone for breaks since it is almost midday. Kyle waits for you, holding the door open as you all exit. 

“So did Professor Hale make you hurt yourself a lot?” he asks as you walk next to Kyle across the grass.

“It’s the best way to prove to people it works. He would have people come and I got to show off for them.” 

“What do you mean?” he asks. 

“Well like, he would have these people called ‘investors’ I think, and I would get to dress nice and get out of my room for the day. He would show them around the lab and they would meet all the scientists, and then they would meet me. I would show them the ‘miracles’ of the formula,” you explain as you make it to the mess.  

“Do you remember any of them?” It’s Simon ahead of you who asks the question. You shake your head.

“They were always men, always in such nice clothes. I never knew their names. He would always just call them ‘investor,’” you say, picking up a tray. Simon hums and you follow him and Johnny piling your plate with food and two pudding cups.

“Dr. Piper might know,” you say. Simon nods. You want to be helpful, but a lot of the time when it comes to what happened in the bunker, it can get blurry. You’re never quite sure where the real memories start. Besides, thinking about them upsets you. It’s enough that you have nightmares, you don’t need to worry about it during the day too. You follow Kyle to a table sitting down in front of Simon. You’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t even realise Simon has pulled the bottom of his mask up. 

You think back to a few days ago when you saw the top of his head and his blonde hair. You’re trying to piece the two together to imagine what his whole face might look like. You’re staring at him, gawking at him as he chews on his food. His head tips to the side as he looks at you, and you watch him swallow as his fork comes back up to his mouth.

“It’s rude to stare,” he says. You immediately feel heat come to your cheeks, looking back down at your tray. Your hands fiddle with the lid on your pudding cup as you let the wave of embarrassment wash over you.

“Be nice LT,” Johnny hisses under his breath, nudging him. You feel like you’ve invaded his privacy. Maybe you should apologize. You look back up at him as you pick up your spoon. You don’t know what to say, so you just spoon some pudding in your mouth. As soon as it hits your tongue it tastes bitter. You almost want to spit it out but you swallow it, frowning as you look at the cup. 

“Not good?” Johnny asks. You look at the flavor, butterscotch. You don’t think you’ve ever tried that one before. 

“I don’t think I like butterscotch,” you say, putting your spoon down. Johnny reaches over picking up the unopened one. 

“That’s not possible.” Johnny smiles at you. You smile back picking up your fork. Guess it serves you right for skipping straight to dessert. You eat your food listening to Johnny and Kyle talk, but you can’t help your eyes wondering to Simon every now and then. You really want to see him smile. You wish you could see him without the mask. Maybe you will, if he’s getting more comfortable around you. At one point he turns and your eyes meet his, you smile at him but instead he ignores you, turning back to listen into the conversation between Johnny and Kyle. 

You spend most of the meal just pushing food around the plate. You’re distracted by something you can’t quite put your finger on. You’re not hungry, just tired. You want to crawl into your nest with a book and sleep. You’ve been sleeping in there more than in your bed. It’s not comfortable sleeping on the floor but you feel like that you have less nightmares when you’re safe in your nest compared to in your bed. 

You excuse yourself from the table, ignoring Kyle’s comments that you’ve hardly eaten anything. When you make it outside, the dark clouds make the air feel electric. Maybe there’s a storm coming. You can hear the distant rumbles as you make your way across the green to the barracks. The lights are off. John must not be back yet. You turn the one in the common room on then walk to your room. 

Your nest is still a mess from earlier. You pull the duvet and pillows off your bed and bend down fixing it. You stack all the pillows back up, laying blankets over them as you arrange everything around. You keep going till it feels right again. You go over to the books on the table. You don’t know what you want to read. You pick up ‘ The Secret Garden’ if not just for the pretty cover. You take it over to your nest climbing in and leaning up against the wall. 

You hear Johnny, Kyle and Simon coming back from the mess a few pages into the book. You hear their voices in the common room, the sound of doors opening and closing. You smile, letting yourself relax, and you read until you fall asleep.

When John makes it back to the barracks Johnny and Kyle are laid out on the sofa. Simon is sat at the table with a mug in his hand. John stands in the doorway as everyone turns to look at him. Simon meets his eye line, John tips his head gesturing outside. 

‘Follow me.’

Simon gets up immediately leaving the table as John steps back outside. He walks away from the building to the wall round the edge of the base. He waits a few seconds before speaking. 

“The labs have been bugged,” John says. 

“Think it’s Graves?” Simon asks. John sighs.

“Don’t know, she only found it yesterday.” 

“Mic? Camera?” 

“Microphone,” he replies. 

“Think there's more?” Simon asks.

“Think so, why only plant one.” 

“What do you want to do?” 

“If it is Graves, I don’t want him to know we’re on to him. It could be something else though.” John sighs scratching his chin. 

“Who? Shepherd?” 

“I don’t know. If the lab is bugged though there’s a chance the barracks are too.”

“Want to search it?” 

“I want to do it without raising suspicion, from Graves, Shepherd, anyone.” 

“What about Soap and Gaz?” Simon asks as they make it back towards the barracks.

“No, let's keep it between us, until we have proof or know who’s doing it. Dr. Montgomery is going to keep an eye out. She’ll let me know if she finds anything,” John says, stopping at the door to the barracks. Kyle and Johnny are still sitting on the sofa as they both walk in. 

“Hey LT, Kyle found the football!” Johnny says enthusiastically. 

“Manchester United, that's the good one right?” Johnny smiles. Simon sighs going back over to the table to get his cup of tea.

“Just keep it down,” John says, going to his office.

“It’s the first match of the league Cap, wanna watch?” Kyle calls. He does but he shakes his head, he has work to do. He watches Simon take his tea over to the sofa chair. He looks down the hall seeing your bedroom door closed, and he takes in a long breath. He can smell you in the air, strawberries. He smiles and walks into his office.

next Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui Beta reader and editor - rememberwren

[lay-z]

☃️ Day 11 ‒ Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

A continuation to 🎅🏼 Day 3 – Altruism, which means it's set in the same universe! 

Synopsis: On your way home for Christmas leave, you and Kyle get stuck in a heavy snowstorm. As the temperature keeps dropping, you suggest skin on skin contact to stay warm together. 

Pairing: Kyle Gaz Garrick x fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | military!Reader; fluff; humour; domesticity; established relationship; dirty talk; unprotected sex; accidental creampie 

Word count: 2.5k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

“Yes, sir, will do. Thank you.” 

You’re only half-listening with one ear as Kyle speaks to the Captain on the phone, informing him of your… predicament and coming up with a rescue plan while you glance out of the windshield, watching the rapidly thickening blanket of snow starting to cover it up. It certainly won’t be long until Kyle’s sleek black Audi car will be hidden from view at the side of the road, the only thing visible being its bright hazard warning lights flashing rhythmically. 

Kyle sighs deeply as he puts his phone back in its holder next to the steering wheel before he speaks.  

“We’re stuck… for the next three hours at least,” he informs you and when you glance over at him, he looks apologetic, almost pitiful, like a kicked street puppy, “I’m sorry, baby,” He reaches over and rests his large, warm palm on your thigh, squeezing it gently, “I should’ve listened to you.” 

Despite your initial annoyance at his stubbornness to take the risk and drive home for Christmas in a snowstorm, – a heavily announced one at that, – you cannot find it in you to be mad at your boyfriend, and your anger melts with ease like ice cones in the sun. 

“It’s alright,” you reply, cupping your own hand over his, rubbing your soft thumb over his dry knuckles, “I know you just wanted us to be home for the holidays and make the most of our leave.” 

Kyle’s lips purse as he exhales sharply through his nostrils, “It’s our first Christmas as a couple,” he mutters, “I just wanted to make it special for you.” 

You can tell that he is angry and blaming himself for this, so you give his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“It is special, though, innit?” You quip, making a vague gesture at the car cabin that you find yourself stuck in with him. For the next three hours. At least. 

Kyle snorts, unamused, “Yeah, right.” He pulls his hand back, crosses his arms over his buff chest and leans back into the soft leather of the car seat with an annoyed huff. Not angry at you, but himself; hating the feeling of not being able to live up to his own expectations and standards he’s produced in his head on how to be a good boyfriend. How to be enough for you. 

You can feel it, the way he’s starting to overthink, and you swiftly intervene. 

“Aw, come on, Ky-Ky. We’ve been through so much worse.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and shift in the passenger seat to lean over the middle console, placing a chaste kiss to his clean-shaven cheek before you pull back and pick up your packed rucksack from the leg room. You unzip it swiftly once on your lap and briefly rummage through it as you hum approvingly. 

“Good thing I packed some snacks and drinks for the drive,” you remark, holding up one of your favourite protein bars before dropping it into the chaos inside again. You flash a genuine smile at your boyfriend, “I think we’ll survive those couple of hours.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle agrees, kissing his teeth in thought as he glances out of his window, “Price said he’ll send someone out for us once it’s cleared up. Said we should keep the heater on as long as we can and just risk the battery dying.” 

But the wind is howling outside, the snowstorm getting meaner rather than ebbing down. Luckily, you two barely made it an hour away from base before you got caught up in the storm and forced to pull over. 

“Oh, I’m positive we’re gonna make it, baby. I trust in our combined survival skills,” you mumble casually as you keep going through your stuff, “Remember when we nearly died of hypothermia in Al Mazrah?” You ask, perking up with a snort, “I mean... that would’ve been so embarrassing. Dying in the fucking desert like that.” 

“Nah,” Kyle objects softly and the corner of his mouth lifts as he thinks back of that recon mission with you, “Drowning in the desert would be more embarrassing.”  

You laugh at that, “Good point.” Kyle’s brows furrow as he glances over at you, watching as you keep going through your rucksack like some manic squirrel looking for nuts, she thought she had hidden in the foliage. 

“What are you even looking for in there?”  

“Condoms.” You answer is so swift and dry that Kyle cannot quite tell if you’re messing with him or not. “But it seems that I forgot to pack them.” And then you click your tongue with a small shrug, “Guess you gotta go raw and pull out this time.” 

His jaw ticks and he squirms in his seat, his biceps flexes under his hoodie as he keeps his arms crossed and spreads his legs wider apart, something curious and warm already stirring in his lower gut, because you must only utter something vaguely dirty or sexual, and Kyle’s loins start buzzing eagerly. That’s how tightly you have him wrapped around your finger. 

“What? Why?” He asks, laughing breathlessly. 

"Never had car sex before," you mutter as you put your rucksack back between your feet before you start climbing through the space between the front seats to get into the back, already kicking off your boots as you go. 

Kyle grumbles but follows you without hesitation, no more questions asked, as he struggles to wretch his bigger body between the seats, "Yeah, I better fuckin' hope ya haven't, princess."  

You can't help yourself but laugh at his sudden display of jealousy, snickering softly as you scoot over and make space for him on the backseat. Lacking your feminine grace, he still manages to join you with some huffs and grunts. 

It’s getting darker in the cabin as more snow starts piling up and covering the windows, the blowing winds now muffled in your forced shelter.  

"Of course not, honey," you say, rubbing his chest affectionately as he pants slightly, looking dishevelled with his hoodie rucked up and his bomber jacket askew. His head turns to follow your movements as the warmth of your touch seeps through his clothes. 

Then, he gets that look in his eyes. The one that disarms you, no matter the situation. It has you melting on the inside and always urges you to grab his face and kiss him senseless. Devotion. Love. Sincerity. All mirrored in his warm brown eyes, like freshly harvested honey dripping from a spoon. Sweet and precious, and only reserved for you to taste. 

"I'm gonna keep you warm, baby," he says, his voice husky as he scoots closer, raising an arm to wrap around your shoulders, his other hand cupping your cheek as he leans in to kiss you audibly; plump lips smacking against yours two, three, four times until you giggle. 

"You know I will, right? Always." He mutters against your lips, his thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek with a tenderness that leaves your chest aching and your pussy pulsating. 

Warm as in safe.  

When you became official on New Year's, almost exactly a year ago, Gaz became Kyle. Off duty, he is Kyle Garrick. Your sweet, doting, and yes, sometimes jealous, and overly protective boyfriend. The one who holds an umbrella over your head when it rains and adjusts the chair for you in a restaurant. On duty, the lines blur sometimes, and both of you must remind each other in turns that you're still teammates, that the job is a priority and that no, you cannot catch a grenade for each other if push comes to shove. Not if it compromises the mission and puts the rest of your team in danger. You’re both learning, though. 

“Are you sure you wanna do it in here? Someone might catch us,” Kyle murmurs responsibly, but starts peppering kisses along your jawline, down your neck.  

“Yes,“ you sigh softly, tilting your head to the side as he pulls the collar of your hoodie down, exposing more skin to his mouth, “Anyone who’s daft enough to take a walk right now and is able to peek through these windows, deserves a bloody show.” 

Kyle is getting harder in his sweatpants the more you speak, the more he kisses you and you let him. He sucks your skin into his mouth and bites down lightly, growling playfully. The sound of your half-whine/half-giggle has his cock twitching, blood rushing south steadily. 

He releases your skin with a wet pop, grazes his teeth over the darkening love bite, “Always driving me bloody fucking crazy.” 

Your right hand reaches down between his strong legs, and you grasp him skilfully over his sweatpants, making him shudder as you give his rigid manhood a firm squeeze.  

The windows have fogged up from the inside. The heater is now redundant as your bodies keep each other warm, skin on skin, no barrier in between. It’s getting hot, slick, and sticky. 

Your lips are kiss-swollen, parted as breathy, hiccupped moans are torn from your throat while Kyle has worked you open with his long fingers, his mouth latched onto your left nipple; suckling, nibbling, flicking his tongue over your hardened bud. 

After stripping down and draping a spare blanket, one you’d brought along as a matter of prudence, Kyle manhandled you onto your back on the, thankfully, spacious backseat. Now he’s keeping his hands braced next to your shoulders, his hips grinding languidly, dragging his thick cock through your wet, puffy folds with each roll.  

“You’re so mean, Kyle,” you whine eventually, head tipping back with your eyes closed as you feel yourself getting impatient, “I want you inside.” 

You like calling Kyle mean, because he is the least mean or selfish lover you’ve ever had. It’s the needy, breathy, and pathetic tone you say it in that has him crumble and fold at once. 

He bites your nipple gently, making you shudder and gasp before he pulls back, gazing up at you with dark, half-lidded eyes, “Want?” He repeats mockingly, “Nah, baby, you know how to ask nicely. I taught you better than that.” 

He reaches down between your bodies, grabs his thick shaft and nudges your silky folds apart with the weeping tip of his cock. Your thighs part wider and your lift your right leg to brace your foot on the driver's seat for purchase, keeping yourself open and presented nicely to him. 

“Such a good girl for me, baby. Look at that pretty pussy,” Kyle mutters heatedly, teasing your swollen clit with his cockhead, “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

“F-Fuck... Fuck me, please, sir.” You’re practically trembling beneath him, bucking your hips to try and make him slip his tip in, and Kyle’s chest rumbles appreciatively as you call him ‘sir’ again. It happens rarely, you’re the same rank on duty, after all, but whenever it slips your lips when you’re alone, it boosts his ego and makes him preen internally.  

His cock twitches, oozing more precum, and the tightness in his balls almost becomes unbearable.  

“Fuck – ah – alright, y-yeah.” 

Kyle shifts on top of you and you push your hips up for him, chest heaving with deep, slow breaths as you look at him through hooded eyes, and you exhale a breath of relief that ends in a breathy moan when his tip finally nudges past your dripping hole, fluttering around him eagerly as he pushes in slowly, making sure your wetness coats his shaft nicely with each push and pull until he can bottom out, heavy balls resting against your crack as his hips are flush with yours. 

“Feels good?” Kyle grunts out and you nod slowly, “Very good... oh god, so fucking good.” 

He pulls out up to his tip and slowly sinks back in again, stretching your quivering walls repeatedly. That familiar blissful warmth starts pooling in your lower stomach, licking at your spine and spreading through your limbs, up to your chest, flushing your cheeks as he starts thrusting more shallowly. Your thighs are sticky with your slick. The sound of your bodies connecting fills the car and rocks it gently when Kyle picks up the pace. 

You wrap one arm around his shoulder loosely, your free hand reaching over to dig into the back of the passenger seat while you keep your foot braced against the driver’s seat, so you’re not pushed off the backseat.  

Kyle leans in to capture your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss; tongue licking into your mouth, flicking and sucking on yours obscenely as his thrusts become more powerful; pubic bone nudging against your pulsating clit with each grind.  

“...’m close, baby,” Kyle utters, his muscles bunch and flex as his handsome face contorts in pleasure, and his hot breath mingles with yours, saliva keeping your lips connected. 

The hand wrapped around his shoulder sneaks down between your legs and you start rubbing your clit in tune with his thrusts, tendons straining in your neck as your head tilts back again, back arching. Your velvety walls squeeze around his cock, squeezing him mercilessly as you rub yourself to completion. 

“Kyle– ngh, Kyle–” Your eyes squeeze shut as the tension keeps coiling, his large hand grabs a handful of your ass cheek, nails digging into your skin and groping you tightly as he snaps his hips harsher, knowing you need his full length massaging your sopping cunt to make you cum. 

The pitch in your moans as you cum, the way you cry out his name in pleasure and your inner walls convulsing and rippling around his cock, is enough to have Kyle lose all restraint with you. He tries to pull out, he really does, but his body goes weak on him, knees giving out beneath him on the backseat as his vision goes white and his head buries into your shoulder while his throbbing cock spills inside you with several long pumps.  

“Fuck... fuck... ‘m sorry, didn’t–didn’t mean to,” he groans against your skin, but his hips keep rutting into you lazily, relishing in each hitch of your breath and shudder of your body beneath him as his cock begins to soften inside you slowly. “I’m so sorry,” 

Releasing your grip on the passenger seat and pulling your hand back from between your legs, you wrap both arms around his neck again, hugging him closer with a soft, contented smile.

“...’s alright, honey,” you mumble hoarsely, exhaling a soft sigh against his neck as you nuzzle him, “Just consider it a very risky Christmas present.” 

[claudiafrankie]

Pick a Card: How is Your Soul Doing

Disclaimer: Tarot is not an evidence-based practice. You are in charge of making your own decisions.

Pile 1 - Water

Wowie pile 1! This feels really good. The picture on the oracle card you picked made me feel like you are in this drop of water, protected and encased in this womb. The rainbow looks like it's feeding/emptying into the water drop, kind of like an umbilical chord. You are kind of churning around and developing, maybe growing a little uncomfortable, feeling like you are too big for your current environment.

Then, bursting over the waves or a rocky mountain range in the distance, a bright white sun explodes into the sky. I see you with your back to this, you aren't aware of it yet.

It looks like the drop of water is suspended over the ocean - and not a calm one. You are cocooned amidst a storm. You probably have felt like you've been in survival mode for a long time. Trying to do small things to bring the light and spark back into your life, with nothing really sticking or working for you. You might have been feeling like you just want to cut everyone off and run away, or like you need to do something drastic, or make some kind of otherwise significant change in your life.

I think you are being heavily protected right now, and watched over. The rainbow emptying into the drop, to me, is like your ancestors and guides providing you with the nourishment you need should you decide to seek it out. They have been sending you messages and communicating with you, and want to pass on advice and wisdom. It's like your outside looks solid or mostly the same, but on the inside you are caterpillar chrysalis enzyme goo, not quite sure what you are going to solidify into.

I think you have been emitting light and hope to those around you during this time of transformation, whether you are aware of it or not. There seems to be light emitting from the right side of the water drop, which spirals upwards and connected with the illuminated sky. I think people around you are anticipating your reveal, waiting to see what kind of person you are going to become.

I think you feel pressure from this, like you have to become something extraordinary and "wow" people that you might not even know very well to begin with. This is part of why you are in this cocoon, you are connecting with who it is that you want to be. Without taking outside opinions into consideration. Going deep into that space within you that is always there, that's quiet and still, that connects you to god.

Pile 2: Fire

Hey pile 2, welcome to your reading!

You chose the 'fire' oracle card, which reads: "As one of the four physical elements, Fire brings us inspiration, creativity, and focus, while also being associated with the masculine properties of strength and life-force. This card can indicate a powerful time of transformation and creative energy."

Your tarot cards are: Queen of Swords, 3 of Swords, Knight of Swords, Nine of Swords, and the Page of Cups.

Looking at your oracle card I was getting the feeling that you have been putting out signals, trying to communicate the need for help, ask for assistance from the universe or your guides or some higher power or source, whatever you believe in.

It looks like the pyramid in the bottom center of the card is lit on fire with the orange/red triangle on the top. Then the large planet-looking object hovers above, and I get the sense that there is help coming to you that may come as a surprise, maybe in the form of a person you wouldn't expect.

Also with fire, and asking for help, I started thinking about fire signals, and then that moment in Lord of the Rings where Gondor lights the beacons to summon help from Rohan - "The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!"

Looking at the Queen of Swords kicking off your spread, (using the universal waite deck) she holds her sword upright looking straight ahead, gesturing outwards with her left hand. She gazes over the rest of your cards, we only see her right profile. The 3 of Swords stands before her, and the Knight of Swords comes crashing in, sword raised, windswept and single-minded.

The 3 of Swords is sandwiched between the queen and the knight... big red juicy, pierced three times, exposed to the elements.

The queen has placed her sword in the heart and so has the knight. Then there is a final ace of swords down the middle - remember in Avatar the Last Airbender, one of the very first episodes, we learn that Sokka tried to remove a fishhook lodged in his hand with another fishhook?

The nine of swords... Something has been attempted to be solved from an angle that doesn't work anymore. A cerebral, thinking one. You have thought yourself in circles about something. You have learned a great deal, about yourself and whoever else this involves. But it's hurting you. And ultimately, it's done. Whatever has happened is over now, but it's like your brain cannot seem to let go. You hold on, desperately trying to decipher some riddle, some code, some writing on the wall that at this point you think you might be imagining.

The Page of Cups stands at the very end of your spread - the only card that's not in the suit of swords. He sees the woman in the nine of swords suffering night terrors, and the repetitive cerebral approach being taken to mending the broken heart. He doesn't seem to be judging, he offers his cup lightly, almost like he's dancing. Here is the help you called for - the Queen, looking over all the cards between her and the end of your spread, is beginning to see above the clouds. How her sword is not a one-size-fits-all tool for solving problems. She has become so used to running her world using her brain. The page sees this and, filled with respect and admiration for her obvious intellectual prowess, lovingly and informally suggests a new way. One that's a little less heavy than that steel sword in your hand.

The four of cups at the bottom of the deck - the page offers his cup but won't force you to take it. After that, the six of swords, ace of pentacles, queen of wands, ace of wands... I think you might want to take that cup.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

I saw this edit on Pinterest..... do what you want with this but I was literally freaking out on this part. I wanted to see if it's possible to write something based off this .. *look.* Maybe the reader just constantly likes to tease Hiccup but one day he just had it and just did ... The look. I would be flabbergasted. <3

Thistle, Scout and Scottish Bluebells

Pairing: Grumpy!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2094

Things don’t happen the way they’re supposed to. The universe sends you to compensate.

Tags:  httyd 1, aged up, au, time travel

Next>

 The sounds of rustling ferns and the ends of pine trees larger than you’d ever seen them, of crackling twigs and wind whistling past fauna and over dirt made its way inside past thin wooden walls and through large cracks in between shuttered window sills and other things.

You sat, knees touching, head resting over folded arms. The chair below you was slightly wobbly, the table beneath your hands uneven.

You listened to the sound of gently sloshing water, watching as boxy, freckled hands dipped unevenly fired and sealed clay into an old, scratched bucket. One of the bucket’s handle’s hinges was broken and the metal bars holding it together were discolored in many places, scratched and dented in others.

A man crouched before the table on the side opposite to you by the door, donning a long, old worn tunic in green. It’d been torn and hastily sewn back together many, many times. That much was obvious.

“...And you have no idea how you got here.” He grumbled. He was crouched along packed dirt floors, wiping cribs and washing leftover bits of stew off your one shared plate.

He boasted a head of slightly fluffy hair, verging on auburn. It usually looked much darker, but he’d washed it recently, though ‘washing’ was a particularly strong word for whatever it was he’d done, going over it with a slightly damp cloth and ridding it of the thick oils and soot it’d worn like dressing.

“None at all.” You responded, the same way you’d been saying it for the past… However long you’d been here. The words spilled awkwardly from your mouth, tongue running over unfamiliar vowels and deeper tones.

Honestly, you missed home. You missed the convenience of a washing machine, for both dishes and otherwise. You missed the way the sun felt on your face, the way the sidewalk felt beneath your feet, the sound of people moving about, the sound of cars, the way paper felt beneath pen and the way the world sounded when it wasn’t filled with the constant sound of war, animals bleating and screaming and great, scaled beast letting out fervent death-cries and the dwindling numbers of a miserable warrior people.

“Any idea how to get you back?” Hiccup asked from the floor. He wasn’t near as quirky as he had been in the first movie, but that was just as well. He was a teen, then. He was a man, now.

“Nope!” You said, voice bordering on mischievous. As you spoke, something quite melancholy made itself known somewhere deep and sensitive. You made efforts to suppress it.

You weren’t lying when you said you weren’t sure how you’d gotten here. You were lucky, you guessed, that you’d been found by who you had been... Or maybe it was that you had been unlucky. 

You weren’t sure yet.

You thought he probably appreciated the company- or he detested it. It could go either way, really. Regardless, he never kicked you out.

“You… You’re....” He started, grumbling, “The worst.”

You heard the sound of drizzling water, watching small drops hit the bucket again as he stood, sighing.

“Says you.” You rolled your eyes. “Hiding away in the woods like a, ah, a hermit.”

“I was never this annoying.” He kept on grumbling.

The ‘he’ in question was your host. This was his shack, technically. His own miserable fortress of solitude.

You hadn’t… You hadn’t really figured out how to say his name, yet. Not in Norse. It was only the two of you here, see, which didn’t give you many opportunities to learn, even as you went romping around the village. 

It hadn’t posed a problem yet- it was mostly just the two of you, and so all you really needed to address him was ‘you.’

“You probably weren’t.” You shot back. “Maybe.”

It was mostly supposition, half based on what you saw and mostly gleaned from what little of the first movie you could remember. 

You weren't that close. You’d had maybe one or two conversations, some serious talks about life and other things that had only been half understood, at least by you. Now, whatever acquaintanceship had grown in the silence between you two as you struggled to learn more about Berk had dampened slightly as you’d begun pestering him.

You kept your arms carefully positioned over crinkled treatise, fingers gripping the edge of one splayed piece of cloth off to the side.

You were careful not to smudge the charcoal marrying each page, though your efforts were probably all for naught. Charcoal was a flakey medium, and your sticks had been perhaps left in the fires for much too long.

Perhaps too tired to say much else, he grunted and looked away, shaking his head slightly. 

You knew you were wearing his already thin patience even thinner.

“I want to shoot down a dragon.” You said, lifting your head and leaning it against your hand.

You’d been asking for a while now.

It was stupid, to keep pushing and pushing and pushing this way. You kept doing it anyway.

“Hand me the rag.” He said without looking at you, holding out one hand.

His hands were littered with scars, small and medium, from a life spent working in the forge. They dusted his knuckles, lying in wait in between and around patches of small freckles and moles and little croppings of baby hairs.

You’d never felt them either casually by accident, nor did you intend to, but still, his palms looked both rough and nice-to-the touch.

You shifted your elbows over your papers, slightly jostling your notes and resting your weight against a cleanly sealed note. The rough face of the cloth was scratchy against your thumb. “If it will lead me closer to dragon-shooting-”

“For just a moment, can you-” Your host stopped himself, gritting his teeth and looking you in the eye.

He had a nice pair of forest green eyes and tapering brows, moles and freckles scattering his cheeks. His face was slightly red from the sun, something which lasted the whole summer months, growing as the sun got brighter and staying throughout the colder nights. 

His chin was lined with a hearty dusting of fuzzy, peachy hairs.

His shoulders were set wide, mouth slightly handing open, as if to expel the force of all of his annoyance from his slitted open mouth, his head tilted downwards with a glint in his eye that might have looked menacing on any other person but only just looked a measure exasperated on him.

 He stared into your eyes, looking at you sideways for a very, very long moment. 

In that expression, you could almost see the shadow of the man he was supposed to have been; perceptive, determined, and a few other things, too.

Right now, those were the eyes of a man who knew exactly what you were doing

You kept your face resolutely blank.

“Help me shoot it.” You responded stiffly.

All in a moment, the man you saw was gone.

If you really thought about it, you might say that whatever spirit he’d once had had been killed a long time before you’d met him.

His brows were almost perpetually furrowed, his eyes weary, the lines under his eyes prominent, mouth stuck drooping. 

His shoulders were almost always dipped, too. If he wasn’t slouching, his shoulders were at a most imperceptible incline.  

While his face was not nearly wrinkled enough to be easily mistaken for the Chief, he looked a great deal older than twenty. He looked like his father- or, what you could remember of his father.

The darkness of the shack and the waning, settling light from the outside made it all look that much more severe.

“You’re not being serious.” With cinched brows, he looked at you as if to ask, ‘Are we really going to keep playing around like this?’

The answer was, ‘Yes-’ as long as the Night Fury remained in the sky and as long as your own project -the one hidden out back by his poor excuse for a well and hand-water pump- was in pieces, you felt quite obligated to keep going. 

“...No.” Your host finished, finally.

He looked down pointedly as you pulled your feet closer to you, heels just missing your chair’s legs as they came to rest before the pile of junk you’d hastily hid underneath. 

You dipped your head back towards your arms, miming bashfulness, though you didn’t feel too bad at having been caught. Stubbornly, petulantly, you continued on; “Why not?”

“Because-” He started, grimacing deeply.

You raised a brow, half expecting him to give up- to go silent.

“Because I said so.” He ended firmly, emotively.

“No.” You said, stubbornly.

“You’re- we’re doing this now?”

“As long as we need to,” You paused, “Until you help me shoot down a dragon.”

“You can just go and do it.” He snapped.

You didn’t mind it. You didn’t intend to stop, even if you drove him crazy.

You could be as crazy as you wanted here. You could run around naked, screaming in tongues and It’s not as if anyone would listen. Your words held no merit. The people were busy and you were just… not a member of society.

 You tried talking to people, once. People other than Him. They’d probably assumed you had brain damage. 

Honestly, you very well could have. When you’d woken up, your head had been aching pretty bad. 

Maybe this was all just an illusion and you really were still back in the real world, probably wandering around the streets, homeless, or locked up in a hospital or a mental facility somewhere, talking nonsense about Dragons and wanting to go home.

Wouldn’t that be a hoot?

There was also a very small part of you that didn’t want to say anything to these people. Really, you didn’t trust your host any farther than you could throw him. 

You hardly knew him.

“I need you to do it.” You insisted. Truthfully, you felt encouraged.

This was probably the most you’d heard from him. Ever.

You might have heard more if you’d spoken to him more, but to be fair, a man of little words attracted very little conversation to himself. Despite what you’d heard, he wasn’t… He wasn’t an easy conversationalist.

“Then you’re not going to be the one shooting down a dragon.”

“So, will you do it?”

He didn’t respond, shaking his head slightly, less so as if he was telling you no and more so as a general expression of his disapproval and of his frustration.

You tapped your finger against wood and paper, feeling at thick, packed paper ends.

It was time for a change of tactics.

“There was, uhm, a missive.” You said, “Someone delivered it while you were out. I think it’s from your dad. It says…”

Dried pulp felt rough against your hands, the wax seal clumsy and easy to peel apart as you unfolded the note. 

You wondered if opening someone else’s mail here was illegal. Hopefully you wouldn’t be arrested… Or thrown into the dungeons, or anything else. Beheaded, maybe?

You resisted the urge to snort.

You made a show of opening it and reading it, which was bullshit and you both knew it because you couldn’t read old norse. You kept your expression still, voice as serious as you could make it, “It says you have to help me shoot down a dragon.”

“No, it does not.” The man hunched for just a moment before turning back around quite abruptly, “Give me- Give me that.”

He reached over the table, snatching it from your hands.

“What does it say?” You asked curiously.

He shot you a look.

“...I think I’d rather shoot down a dragon.”

“So are we-” You tried again, feeling some sort of joy shoot its way up your chest and burst into a million little adrenaline-filled pieces.

You needed him to agree. Now, preferably.

You didn’t know why you were here. What you did know was what the movies told you and, well, you had two eyes, you could tell, quite obviously, that things had not happened the way you’d been told.

It was a one-plus-one sort of situation; a bunch of half-assed guessing and clumsy hoping, but you worked with what you knew. Maybe, if you made things right, then you’d finally be allowed back home from wherever this was. 

“No.”

You huffed. Instead of Hiccup the Useless, his name really should have been Horrendous the Stubborn.

You’d wear him down eventually.

[morganbritton132]

so I am primarily an Eddie x Chrissy shipper but I ADORE the Eddie Munson TikTok saga with my entire heart

can we get some more insight into how Eddie was affected by Chrissy in your universe?

Thank you for asking this!

I’ve wanted to talk about Chrissy in this AU since the beginning, but I just don’t realistically see Eddie talking about her on his TikTok. Anytime Eddie has so much as alluded to Chrissy over the years, it has stirred up all this drama about that spring break and it always gets back to her family. And he doesn’t want that.

He doesn’t want to remind her remaining relatives of her death. He doesn’t want the accusations that some people still have that he killed her. He doesn’t want to attach all that pain and suffering onto the memory of Chrissy.

She was more than that one awful week in 1986. She was so much more and every time the Hawkins Murders get brought up she becomes less and less a real human person and more just a footnote in a bigger tragedy.

So, he doesn’t talk about her publicly.

So, Eddie honors her in the quiet ways that he can.

He honors her in the tattoo over his heart and in the initials engraved on the inside of the ring he never takes off. He honors her in the silence before every live performance and in all the songs so filled with grief that they’re never performed to an audience.

He honors her in the life he lives.

He tries to at least, because Chrissy is not a ghost that haunts him.

She is a presence that sits beside him. She is the sun warm on his face and tea made just a little too sweet. She is the skip-beat of his heart, the stroke of a guitar, the sadness that seeps behind his eyes. She is an empty house built inside him, and she is the windows he made in those walls, and she is beautiful still. And he misses her. Still

So, he honors her in silent ways when she deserves so much more.

She deserved a life, so he lives his thankful and fully. She deserved the same love that she put into the world, so Eddie never misses an opportunity to show his. She deserved adventure, and travel, and to see a world so much brighter than Hawkins, so when Eddie got the chance. It didn’t feel like running away. It felt like honor.

Eddie knows that he was not always kind.

He knows that he has a capacity for cruelty, that Wayne raised him right but he has shades of his father in him. He knows that for as much as the world othered him, as much as Hawkins ostracized him, he played into it. He othered himself. He grew bristles and thorns young, and he bared them to anybody that got close. He was mean.

He could be so mean, but Chrissy.

She didn’t remember him that day in the woods, but Eddie has always noticed her because she was kind. She was so effortlessly kind to everybody, even to him. She apologized in the hall for bumping his locker. She stopped when he dropped his dice instead of kicking them across the floor.

She smiled at him like he wasn’t a freak, the same smile she smiled at everybody.

She was so kind. It was for everybody. She was kind to him the way that she was kind to everybody else, and it was just… It was never fair. It was never going to be fair.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Follow Me

Request: Can you do something like Vault 4 in the show but with Coop and the reader and how they'd react to friendly faces (or what seem like friendly faces?) A/N: This prompt GOT ME GOOD. I started out with Vault 4, scrapped that, and somehow ended with hippie Ghouls singing Uncle Kracker songs that we're pretending are original because they definitely didn't exist in the pre-war Fallout universe a totally realistic Fallout story that involves hippies and the ocean Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language Summary: You can't help but be suspicious of everyone you meet in the Wasteland, but a group of friendly, musically-inclined Ghouls just might be the exception.

Word Count: 1.9k+

(Gif Credit to @オレは強い)

“You get the caps?” 

Cooper tosses a bag tied with twine your way in response. It’s heavy, the sound of bottle caps clinking in a soft reassurance that you can afford to rest your aching body for more than just a couple nights.

“There isn’t anything in these damn dunes but sand and rocks.” You kick at the ground, “Might as well start pedaling back east.”

There’s a moment of hesitation before Cooper answers. 

“Not this late. We’ll go west. Follow the coastline.”

You sigh in defeat, resigning yourself to the fate of slogging through thousands of tons of sand. 

“Problem, sweetcheeks?”

A scowl curls your lip at Cooper’s sarcastic jab. He’s already walking west into the orange halo of a setting sun. 

“Just don’t want to hike back through more miles of dunes if we don’t have to.” You mutter and follow behind him. 

If he was going to be a prick, you were at least going to use his already-irradiated body as a sun shield. 

After a substantial payout on your most recent bounty, Cooper and yourself were both ready for a break. It had been a long few months of job after job and patience was wearing thin. You’re both getting more snappy with each other as the days slip by; Cooper is more dependent on his Vials after exerting himself, and you’re plain exhausted. Sunburned, sweaty and dry all the same. It is a volatile mix of attitude and flaring tempers, both of which you and Cooper possess a staggering amount of.

The drop location for the bounty had been far west in the sand dunes, nearing the coastline. Cooper had made the drop while you sought out shelter for the night. Sought being the key word, as you’ve been hiking through sand for hours with nothing to show for it. You met back up with Cooper at the crest of a dune, where he’s huffing down a Vial and pacing like a caged animal. 

And now, you’re back on the move. 

You trail in his shadow even when the sun sinks below the sand and a full moon rises. You’re comforted by the absence of heat and creeping relief of dusk as it soothes away the day’s burns, but desperate for a reprieve from the elements. It takes you a few moments shuffling through your pack while walking to find the salve you’d mixed up months ago and slather what remains of it on your roasted cheeks. Trying to put the lid back on and not fall flat on your face is a chore, made more difficult by Cooper’s sudden stopping in front of you. 

“Damn, a little warning would be…” You trail off, looking ahead. “Nice.”

It had been years since you’d seen the ocean, and its grandeur isn’t lost on you. Waves lap at the thirsty shoreline, breaking up the moon’s silvery reflection. For miles and miles, as far as the eye can see, water dances and shifts until it mixes into a twilight sky on the horizon.

A childish bout of excitement washes over you as you observe. Only one more hill of sand separates you from the water. Cooper sighs as you weave around him and hustle towards it. 

“Don’t you get in that water, woman.” He barks, “I ain’t fishin’ you out.”

You ignore him and hike up the next dune. Forever seems to pass as you climb upwards and you curse the sand once more. You’re almost to the top, ready to make a mad dash to the water when a voice stops you. 

“Hello!” A surprisingly happy voice catches you off guard, coming from your left, “Welcome, friends!” 

Cooper is immediately on guard, pulling his pistol. The Ghoul persona steps up to bat, his face all hard edges and glaring eyes. Despite the arguing and bickering you’ve been putting each other through, his protective streak drops over you like a shield. Now at your side, he nudges a shoulder in front of you.

Ghouls can take bullets a lot easier than a human, after all.  

In the direction the voice came from, you take stock of not one but several figures in a circular camp. They’re grouped around an old cable spool that’s topped with bottles of various liquor and drinks, and they move to the twang of what you think is an old guitar. A small fire crackles next to the table. The guitar chords reach your ears in slow waves, an inviting tune that makes you want you go down and dance with them 

The figure who’d called out is closer, hands held up in a placating manner. You’re surprised to note the familiar lack of a nose and wrinkled skin that labels him a Ghoul. He’s apparently younger than Cooper - as most Ghouls are- with skin a little less warped and blonde hair that still seems to grow rather wall from his scarred scalp.

“Woah there, brother. Take it easy.” 

Cooper doesn’t relent. “We ain’t here to make friends. Just passin’ through.”

There’s something about this stranger that’s genuine. That’s not to say you haven’t met real, genuine people in the Wasteland, but kindness is something found few and far between these days. You've met a few Ghouls outside of Cooper, most of which are inherently more friendly due their outcasting from a lot of the major settlements. They’re usually chatty, comforted by the sight of a smooth-skin traveling and being in close quarters with another of their own kind.

Your Ghoul, though, is less willing to accept friendship on the fly. 

“It’s not about the destination, folks. It’s about the journey.” He pauses, “And the people you meet.”

You blink at him and turn to Cooper, who snorts. “Well ain’t that sweet.”

“Listen brother, I know life is rough out there but I swear- we’re just here to enjoy what we can.” He motions over to the camp, where another male Ghoul is picking the guitar and laughing with the others.There’s no weapons lying about, and a clear line of sight in every direction.

A smile pulls at your lips, and you place one hand on Cooper’s forearm. The music is washing away any sort of hesitation you had, reinforcing the desire for rest. 

“Sorry, my partner here is a little paranoid. We wouldn’t mind stopping.” 

It takes a few moments of convincing (half of them being threats of physical violence) for Cooper to stand down. You’re fairly certain he knows these Ghouls are harmless, but can’t escape the suffocating paranoia that comes along with two hundred years of Wastelanding.

Shortly thereafter, you're introduced to the ragtag group, sharing only your first names and settling your things against the side of an overturned car that only has half of the roof sticking up from the sand. Kevin, Phil, Desiree, Cody and Mallorie regale you with their stories, about leaving the major settlements for a life on the road and somehow being happy and relatively unscathed by Wasteland violence. 

Through it all, Cooper is predictably standoffish, amber eyes shooting daggers into anyone that gets too close.

Which, with this group, is everyone. 

They aren’t just friendly, but physical, rubbing your shoulders and patting you on the back. One of the female Ghouls braids your hair while Cooper sits stock still across the firepit. They attempt to make conversation with him, most of which ends with no response. You scowl at his rudeness each time, and nudge his shoulder to prompt one word responses once you’re returned to his side of the fire. 

“So, where are you folks headed?” The female Ghoul who’d braided your hair inquires. 

Cooper is quiet beside you, cigarette dangling from between his lips. 

“Not sure.” You answer, glancing to your side to look at the ocean. “We kind of just... Move. Wherever we can find work, we go.”

“A shame that we’re still slaves to money after being nuked.” Phil, who’s been strumming on the guitar since you joined, speaks up. “You’d think everyone could just be peaceful now.”

And that statement actually gets a reaction from Cooper. It’s a snort, but a reaction nonetheless.

“Ain’t nobody peaceful out here.” Cooper stubs his cigarette out on the rotted metal of the car, “Everybody wants somethin’. Money, drugs, power.”

“Guns.” You add, lighting your own cigarette. 

“Not us.” Desiree, the very same that braided your hair, looks around the group, “We left all of that. All we want is peace.”

While it was a nice thought, you’d seen too much to ever believe it was true. The Wasteland truly metamorphosizes people, and not always in a good way. There’s always someone clamoring to be the newest leader, the brightest glow of hope for the world. 

“True that, sister.” Phil lifts his drink and the group follows, toasting to her words. “And to our new friends, I hope you can find peace someday.”

You smile in spite of your own thoughts, raising the cigarette in your hand in a lazy nod to their previous toast. The group cheers once again and lifts their drinks towards the sky. You bump playfully into Cooper’s shoulder, and your Ghoul stares at you from under the brim of his dirty hat. His eyes are narrowed and you know deep down he’ll never be able to escape the grip the Wasteland has on his heart, but that doesn’t mean you won’t try your damndest to get a smile out of him. 

“I got something the cowboy will like.” Phil pats his guitar as if it’s a shiny new car, “I dabble in the country genre.”

Cooper tilts his head back and steals the cigarette from between your fingers. “This oughta be good. You gonna regale us with some Johnny Cash this evenin’?”

Kevin pipes up then, smoothing out his blonde locks. “No Johnny Cash here, man. Phil’s got some original stuff. We call it ‘new age’ country.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Cooper finishes your cigarette, and starts working on lighting a second to make up for it. “Let’s hear it.”

The sarcasm drips heavy from his voice, and you resist the ever-so-common urge to slap him for his rudeness. You’re plucking the newly-lit cigarette from scarred fingers when Phil starts strumming the guitar again, now in a slow beat that immediately makes you think of the ocean swirling behind you. It’s a melody far different than that of the Wasteland radio stations, something new and creative that sends an excited tingle up your spine. You nod your head with each note, nudging the Ghoul beside you. He takes a long swig of whiskey, watching your swaying out of the corner of his eye. 

“You don't know how you met me, you don't know why

You can't turn around and say goodbye.”

Happy to have something cheery  in the sprawling hellscape you’re forced to live in, your smile cracks wider. Cooper is watching Phil now too, one hand resting on his thigh and the other loosely gripping his whiskey. 

“Follow me, everything is alright. 

I’ll be the one to tuck you in at night. 

And if you want to leave, I can guarantee

You won't find nobody else like me.”

Warmth washes over you at the lyrics and you lean into Cooper’s side. He shifts around to make it comfortable for you, and the fingers of that arm find your hip. Phil keeps crooning into the night, lulling your eyes shut as your cigarette turns to ash. Your eyes flutter when Cooper takes another swig of liquor, sweeping over the group. Everyone’s swaying to the tune, singing along and dancing. It’s not until you move to settle back down that movement catches your eye and a shit-eating grin spreads across your face. 

Cooper’s boot just so happens to be tapping along with the beat.

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[zaceouiswriting]

The favorite Bat-Brother?

Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Brother!Male Reader

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Slight Brutality

The warm summer sun shone on the beautiful world. On a day like this, you would usually have been sitting by the pool or challenging your brothers to a water fight, but instead, you were in the garage working on your car to distract yourself from what you saw the day before. 

To say you were heartbroken would be an understatement. For the first time in your life, you cried. You had felt like a schoolgirl as you stormed through the front door of your home and cried your heart out. On your way to the room, you ignored your brothers' and even Alfred's pleas to talk, but you couldn't speak. Since then, you've been ignoring everyone, whether, in your bedroom or the garage, you always had your headphones on.

So it was no wonder someone tapped you or, in this case, gently kicked your leg. That alone let you know who it was, and that didn't help your terrible mood.

As you rolled your board down, on which you went under the car, the light was blinding, but you, thankfully, didn't have to get used to it because Damian came to stand over you, blocking the light. He looked moody as always, but that day he seemed strange. Suddenly, he motioned for you to take out your earbuds, which you did, only for him to squad next to you.

“Do you remember Alek? The tall black-haired one? The one who models part-time?” Damian asked you casually. But his words broke your heart even more.

“You mean my boyfri- sorry, ex-boyfriend?”

“Whatever,” Damian said, rolling his eyes. But before you could tell him to fuck off if he wanted to make fun of you, he suddenly took your hand and played with your longer fingers. It could only mean one thing: he had done something he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do.

"What happened? Did he do something to you? Do I have to punch him?"

Damian looked at you questioningly, as you both knew that as the only pacifist in the Bat Family, you wouldn't do that. Still, it made Damian smile.

“I think he learned his lesson.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him suspiciously because his questionable words made you feel uneasy.

“Someone got to his car last night, you know, the red sports car, where he cheated on you with this blonde girl. That someone scratched his car paint and broke his windows with a crowbar.”

You were stunned, unable to speak, and not knowing what to say. On the one hand, you were grateful, but on the other, you were afraid that he might get negatively involved with the law, even though your family is filthy rich. However, Damian had taken your silence strangely as he was fiddling with something in his pocket while, at the same time, moving nervously and still playing with your hand. You didn't know whether he was excited or nervous.

But since you still hadn't said anything after a few minutes, Damian took his hand out of his pocket, placed it in your open palm, and dropped something into it. As he pulled his hand back, you saw something small that looked vaguely like a small pebble. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When you raised your gaze again, words were on the tip of your tongue, but when you looked at Damian's nervous face, your throat tightened.

Nothing was said for a moment, but when your eyes finally met, you saw the fear in his green orbs, letting you know you had to say something.

“What is the meaning of this?” You asked him quietly. “Why did you give me a pebble?”

Damian shrugged. "When I destroyed the dickhead's car, he was there too," he finally confessed. “He won’t be doing any more photo shoots anytime soon,” he continued cryptically. “Unfortunately, he was with a gang I was hunting for a while.”

You were stunned. Up until that point, you thought no one cared. You were always quiet and often felt left out of place. Unlike the others, you couldn't hurt a fly. At least not yet, even though you're Bruce's blood son, just like Damian. Although it didn't matter to you, all four boys were your brothers. You still looked after them, helped them when they were sick or injured, lent them an ear or your strength, whatever they needed. But all the brotherly love was never reciprocated. It was the very first time one of your brothers did something for you. And it was the baby brother of all people.

“Why?” You could only ask before a lump in your throat stopped you from making another sound.

Damian rolled his eyes again as if the whole thing was a nuisance to him, even though you knew better now. “I couldn’t hear you crying at night. You know our rooms are next to each other. I hear everything that happens,” he spoke the last part exasperatedly.

“But-„

Damian groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes so hard he bobbed his head. "Can you just accept it and not make a big deal about it?" His voice was just as annoyed as the rest of his demeanor.

At this point, you could only nod, still in a strange trance. You were sure that this had to be a dream because it couldn't be real life. Damian had gotten up again and was about to leave. But after a few steps, he stopped.

Damian was always the easiest for you to read, so you knew he was reluctant to say something. But as you knew him, he would turn around once to make a decision. And just as you thought, he did just that. Meeting your eyes, you could see his body tensing and then hopelessly deflating.

“It’s not a pebble,” he admitted strangely. Your face contorted in confusion. “It’s a tooth.”

“What?” you asked, confused. Your eyes fell on your hand. “Whose tooth is that?”

“Shouldn’t you remember that?" He asked you dryly. "You tongued it several times in the lounge,” Damian told you, suddenly teasing with a sideways smirk. Only to have his face scrunch up in realization and disgust. You could only laugh.

“And why is there red...color? I believe?"

"Oh." Damian suddenly became more sheepish. “Well, I accidentally broke the idiot’s tooth on his car. Even though I had already destroyed it before when I found the tooth, I took it and scratched it further in front of the dickhead's face, but just to be safe, I followed with a knife."

Damian tried to remain casual, but you could see a spark of pride in his glimmering eyes. At that moment, all you could feel was the same thing: Pride. With a speed that not even your battle-hardened little brother could comprehend, you stood up, scooped him into your arms, and swept him off his feet. You spun in circles, laughing as you watched Damian try not to smile.

“What did I do to deserve a little brother like you?”

You slowly stopped spinning until you placed him back on the ground. Only then did you see the blush growing on his pale cheeks. You nudged him and asked what was wrong with him. He didn't want to talk, so you laid your hand on his little head and ruffled his hair. You told him everything was fine, not wanting to overwhelm him further. You turned to your car but stopped when you heard a whisper behind you.

"What?" you asked, chuckling in delight.

“Because I love you,” Damian whispered again, but this time you heard it. When you saw him look away, his ears glowing red and tears in his eyes, your heart melted. It made you wonder if your brother had always been this cute or if this was a recent development.

Once again, you were in front of your brother before he could react. You pulled him close, his head barely reaching your chest. Tears quickly wet your dirty shirt. It was the first time he had shown real feelings towards someone. You couldn't bear to say a word, so you petted his head instead.

For minutes, the two of you stood there silently, enveloped in each other's warmth. Only when a lightness befalls the atmosphere did you dare to speak.

“And I love you too, little bird,” you whispered in return with a big smile. “And from today, I break my neutrality! You’re my favorite now!”

“Really?” he asked quickly, looking up. His eyes were bloodshot, and his cheeks were even redder than before.

Instead of saying anything else, you kissed the top of his head, ruffled his hair again, and turned away, only to burst into silent tears. You just couldn't let him see you like this, you were still sore from the heartache you had just endured.

***

Damian took it as a sign to leave, but not before hugging you from behind, giving you a tissue, and running away. He went outside and walked back to the main house from the back. When he went back into the main living room, he found Jason and Dick there. He didn't care that they saw him in this mess. Instead, a devilish grin crossed his face.

Both older brothers looked questioningly at the boy, who they believed was the devil reincarnated.

“I’m his favorite!” he announced proudly. His two older brothers looked at him stunned. Then they looked at each other, wondering where Damian had come from. At the same time, something clicked within them. They both stood up simultaneously.

“You liar!” they shouted, not angry but more panicked.

"What did you threaten him with?" Jason asked further through gritted teeth, ready to pounce on the little boy.

Damian shrugged. "I just helped him get rid of a little sadness by beating up his ex," he told them, equally proud. He bathed in their stupid looks before he started whistling and walked away completely relaxed.

The information left the two older brothers speechless, thinking you didn't like brutality. But maybe they had the wrong idea.

Dick jabbed his elbow into Jason's side with a mischievous grin, and when their eyes met again, he couldn't hold it back any longer. “I told you we should have done it ourselves!”

Jason mumbled something incomprehensible before leaving. Dick never thought the other one would be the soft one since he prevented them both by going after your ex, but he had a feeling another chance would soon open up. After all, you're handsome, intelligent, and a Wayne. There are other fish in the sea for you. Maybe, if he finds your future husband, he may finally become your favorite, everything he ever wanted to be. And all your brothers fought about. Only now the war has really begun.

[Masterlist]

[annievrse]

red carnations

dazai x reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic c/w: 1.5k wc, alcohol, one mention of dazai's suicide book

“Oh, shit,” Dazai laughed, stumbling over his own feet as he stood. 

You paid no mind to him, digging your face further into the couch to shield your eyes from the sun's glare. Groaning, you squinted through the daylight to peek into the kitchen, where Dazai tried his best to fill up a glass with water from the sink. 

“How did we end up out here?” He asked, rubbing his eye with his knuckle and taking a sip from the cup as he walked back toward you.

“Pretty sure it was Kunikida’s cheap ass rosé,” You said, face twisted in disgust. “Why did you make me drink that again?” 

You took the glass from Dazai’s outstretched hand and ignored him when he jumped onto the couch beside you. His hand circled your thighs and brought them onto his lap, his fingertips rubbing softly on your skin. 

“If I recall correctly,” Dazai puts his forefinger in your face. “You were the one who forced it down my throat. I took no part in stealing Great Kunikida’s favourite alcoholic beverage.”

You shook your head, sipping water from his glass and raising your hand to run your fingers through his messy hair. “Never let me steal it again.”

“Mhm,” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand, tilting his head into your touch. “It’s hard to sway you when you’re set on something.”

You rested your head on the back of the couch and looked at him. His cheeks were still tinted deep red from when you last saw them last night, but you were unsure if it was from the hangover or something entirely different. 

“Are we gonna clean the candle wax off the shelf?” You mumbled, eyes flickering between his dark irises. 

Dazai sighed loudly, turning his face forward, breaking your staring competition. “Nah, we’ll clean it up next time.” 

You raised your eyebrows, nails grazing the top of his bandages at the back of his neck. "You'll clean it up next time."

Dazai glanced at you, fingers running higher up your leg. If he wasn't so entranced by you, maybe he would've declined.

“Have you heard from Dazai lately?” You asked Yosano as you walked into the ADA. 

Yosano turned to face you from her desk, eyebrows knitted. “Yeah, he was just here, like, 20 minutes ago.”

Your mouth opened slightly in disbelief. “Really?” The question came out in a whisper, and you were too caught up in your thoughts to notice her calling your name. 

“Why?” Yosano asked, now standing in front of you with her arms crossed. It seemed everybody else in the office was out, so it was deathly quiet while you contemplated what to say. 

Nonetheless, you felt your face heat up at the memory. “He came over on Sunday night, and we–“ 

“Don’t tell me you–” Yosano shook her head, eyes locking onto the fading maroon bruise on your neck. 

“No!” You gasped, body tingling with embarrassment. “No, just let me explain.” 

The universe only gave you 12 minutes to explain your current predicament before Atsushi and Kyouka walked in, confused looks on their faces when they saw you waving your arms around. 

“What’s going on?” Atsushi asked, placing his black gloves on his desk. 

“Where’s Dazai?” Yosano inquired, raising a single eyebrow at the younger boy. 

“Oh!” Atsushi looked at Kyouka, who turned away and pretended to shuffle papers on Kenji’s desk. “Uh, he’s… around, you know how he is.”

“Uh, huh,” The physician nodded, tongue pressing on the inside of her cheek. “Kyouka?”  

The teenager paused her hands, dropping the documents. “He’s downstairs.” 

Atsushi groaned softly while you and Yosano shared a glance. “Thanks.” 

Dazai had always gotten a kick out of begging various women to die with him; that much was true. And you didn’t mind – why would you? You weren’t exclusive, and he could go after anyone he wanted. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you saw his cheeks were still burgundy – you could see that much. But what you couldn’t see was the face of the waitress who sat with her back to you. 

The pain on your face must’ve been obvious because it was enough for Yosano to call his name, venom dripping from her words. 

Dazai popped his head up at the sound, a smile spreading across his cheeks when he saw you. “Belladonna!” But his expression then morphed into one of panic. “You need to leave!” 

You were taken aback. “What?” 

The brunette stepped around the waitress and walked toward you, eyes bouncing around the room. He finally stopped before you, hands reaching out to take yours, gaze locked on the woman beside you. “Yosano, take her upstairs.” 

“Dazai–”

“Please,” His dark eyes were pleading, yet they twinkled with something close to mischief. “I’ll let you know when to come back down.” 

“No, I don’t want to go upstairs. Tell me what’s going on,” You argued, snatching your hands out of his. 

“I’ll tell you later, okay?” Dazai added. 

You tore your gaze away from him and fought against the tears in your eyes but let Yosano guide you back to the office anyway, a look of abrupt understanding on her face that you couldn’t begin to comprehend. 

Upon returning, Kyouka looked regretful, and Atsushi had his head in his hands. 

“Get over it!” Yosano announced, rolling her eyes when the pair jumped in surprise. 

You were at a loss for words and tired. “I’m just gonna go home.” 

“No!” Atsushi sprung up from his chair, clearing his throat when Kyouka glared at him. “I mean,” He coughed. “Just stay here a while. I’m sure everything’s fine.” 

But you shook your head and grabbed your bag from the floor where you’d left it when you arrived. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” 

A knock at your door was the last thing you wanted to deal with. Covered with two blankets and a tea in your hand, you grumbled when the knocking didn’t stop. 

So, you got up, paused the episode you were watching and opened your front door. 

Your breath hitched when you recognised Dazai’s shoes on your doorstep, a bouquet of red carnations covering his face. “What do you want?” 

Dazai violently shoved the flowers to the side, his face visible now. “What do you mean ‘what do you want’?” He pushed past you to enter your apartment and placed the bouquet on the kitchen counter. “I’m here because you left the office.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, irritation simmering in your veins. “I’m going to ignore the fact you just invited yourself in.” 

“Whoa!” Dazai taunted, shrugging his coat off his shoulders. “What’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong with me?” You questioned mockingly. “You!” 

“Me?” He tilted his head. 

“Yes, you!” You stepped in his direction, skin heated and blood pumping quickly. “You told me to leave the cafe, so I left! Dickhead...” 

Dazai treaded slowly toward you, palms facing upwards. “I told you to stay in the office until I called you.” 

“What am I?” You laughed bitterly. “A dog?” 

Dazai sighed and shook his head. “You know what, you’re right. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that, but you didn’t have to leave.” 

“You’re impossible, Osamu.” 

Dazai raised his eyebrows in shock at the use of his name. “Oh, okay. I’m the impossible one.” 

“Yes!”

“What if I said I asked you to leave because I was planning the best date of your life in the cafe?”

This made you pause. “Huh?”

Dazai took your hands in his, but you wouldn’t pull away this time. “I wanted to ask you out properly. But, someone had to open her big mouth and ruin the surprise.” 

“Kyouka did nothing wrong,” You laughed. “You should’ve just told me.” 

“Do you know the definition of a surprise? Or should I get the dictionary for you? Perhaps send you back to first grade?” 

You slapped Dazai’s bicep and twisted your lips in thought. “Were you really going to ask me out?” 

“Do you think I would subject myself to a florist for fun?” Dazai joked, nodding his head back at the flowers on the counter, placing his hand delicately on your cheek. “Of course I was! I like you.”

“Oh, Dazai,” You mumbled, voice thick with emotion. 

And for the first time in the entirety you’d known him, Dazai was speechless, awaiting an answer that you’d soon give him. He chewed on his bottom lip, never fearing drawing blood because the thought of rejection was more painful than anything he’d ever tried from his book of suicide. 

But when you smiled, pinching his pink cheek between your thumb and forefinger, Dazai knew it would be okay. “You’re so cute.” 

“Wha–What?” He pouted. “I’m bearing my soul to you, and that’s all I get?” Shaking his head, Dazai let a smile slip out. “Lord, give me strength.” 

“Shut up!” You laughed, hand on his neck to pull his face closer to yours. And when his nose bumped yours, his hands found home on your waist. “I adore you, Osamu.” 

[taste-in-music]

my top 10 songs of 2024

picks 11-30 beneath the cut

30. Divine by Saleka, Kid Cudi: Before watching Trap by M. Night Shyamalan, I knew it was part thriller about catching a serial killer, part vehicle to launch his daughter Saleka’s singing career. After watching it, I was a certified stan of father and daughter alike, because I don’t care about the nepo baby allegations when the music is this fucking good. (I also had a blast with the movie. Must a film “make sense?” Is it not enough to watch Josh Hartnett go berserk at the in-universe equivalent of the Eras Tour?) While Saleka created an entire album of bangers for her fictional pop star Lady Raven, “Divine” has to be my pick off the track list, a silky-smooth R&B crooner with an energetic thrum to make it appropriate for both chilling out and throwing back. Saleka isn’t the first to compare a love affair to a divine calling, but she does a great job of actually capturing the intrigue and transcendence evoked by the metaphor, and she also has great chemistry with Kid Cudi. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a sequel to Trap, partly because I'm always down to watch Josh Hartnett go berserk, but mostly because that means we'd probably get another album from our corvid queen.

29. Scorsese Baby Daddy by SZA: SZA comes in right under the wire once again with a release in December, making my job a lot harder, because if SZA drops new music, how could I not include it on my year-end list? It’s hard to say which track of her SOS deluxe album LANA is going to stick in the zeitgeist, but my immediate pick is “Scorsese Baby Daddy,” which was so immediately addictive that I listened to it 20 times in a row when it first dropped. SZA treads familiar lyrical ground on the song, grappling with insecurity, unapologetically pursuing amazing sex, and spiraling into emotional attachments. “Addicted to the drama,” she sings in tandem with the song’s title, batting away the self-chastisement with the heady rush of a new love, “doing the most” and hoping it isn’t too much for her lover to take. Much like my list pick off SOS, “F2F,” I love how “Scorsese Baby Daddy pivots SZA’s sound towards a loping rock palette, a swaggering drum kick fleshed out with guitars and more affirmed vocal delivery. Sonics aside, it’s SZA’s conviction and blunt honesty that makes the track one of the best of the year, even if it arrived the latest.

28. Tough Love by Gracie Abrams: This song could’ve been a ten second voice note of Gracie Abrams saying “No chance I’ll waste by twenties on random men / Not one of them is smarter than all my friends” and it still would’ve made this list. Abrams’s Swiftian mode of detail-laden songwriting doesn’t always cohere for me, but on “Tough Love,” they map out a chilly post-breakup night in Boston. Killing time on a bench by the river. A ripped jacket. Her ex kicking her in bed while sleeping. Aaron Dessner’s production captures the melancholic expanse of these experiences: atmospheric drones with a hint of warmth, the gentlest swell of strings. It allows Abrams’s storytelling to shine, celebrating female friendship and the newfound independence of young adulthood, reveling in its thorny edges and small joys. “Tough Love” is the gentle smack upside the head, the reminder that no matter what useless boys might throw your way, you never have to take it on alone.

27. It's No Fun by Grace Enger: Enough about romanticizing my life and daydreaming about unrequited crushes! Only Grace Enger is brave enough to tell it like it is about wanting someone who will never want you back: it's no fun. Like her previous best track “The Neighborhood,” Enger ups the ante behind her singer-songwriter schtick on "It's No Fun." Her acoustics get a little crunchy and electric, her voice rises to a frustrated belt, the drums clammer in like a pounding heartbeat. “In my eyes, you’re the sun,” she sings, “Think you liked the way I spun and spun and spun around you.” The only way to keep yourself from getting sucked back into the toxic cycle is severing the ties, and Enger dramatizes this in one of the most cathartic bridges this year, describing the fury at having to take the high ground, break off the friendships, and pursue reconciliation all on her own. Just because the love isn’t mutual doesn’t mean that your heart won’t break, and I’m grateful for songwriters like Enger that transform these feelings into songs I can scream along to to get to the other side of it.

26. DENIAL IS A RIVER by Doechii: I was embarrassingly late to the Doechii train. While I had heard praise for her latest record Alligator Bites Never Heal throughout the year, it took watching her electric turn at NPR’s Tiny Desk to finally get off my ass and check out her music. The song that lit the fire was “DENIAL IS A RIVER,” a dialogue between Doechii and an alternate persona dramatized as a rapped conversation about her life until now and her current mental state. It doesn't just offer bouncy flows, memorable punchlines, and sparkling chemistry, but a great place to start if you’re also just now catching up with the Doechii phenomenon. Her free-flowing narration is basically a "previously on..." segment, covering catching up with an ex’s side piece over Zoom, being thrust into the spotlight in the wake of viral success, and coping with the stress through less-than-sustainable means, culminating in a breathing exercise where Doechii dramatically dry-heaves into the mic. Doechii’s raw wit and charisma as a performer is impossible to deny, and I won't make the mistake of being behind on her releases ever again.

25. Truth Or Dare by Tyla: One of the most exciting rising figures of pop music in 2024 was South African amapiano star Tyla, who broke through onto the Billboard charts last year with the splashy jam “Water.” The self-titled debut album came in 2024, and with it a cavalcade of sexy, sumptuous music perfectly crafted for glitzy nights on the town. “Truth or Dare” first popped out to be when I saw Tyla’s set at Lollapalooza, where she delivered its silky beat and hooky melody while dancing atop a giant tiger in a marble printed bodysuit with a team of backup dancers. On the song, she cuts into an addressee that dismissed her in the past but is suddenly all up over her now that she’s successful. “Dare you to forget / That you used to treat me just like anyone,” she reminds them with a voice like sugar viper venom, “Is it true you care? / Now that you see the love from everyone.” It’s that touch of spikiness within the sensuality that lends the song its magnetism, a raised brow daring you to keep coming back for more.

24. Right Back To It by Waxahatchee, MJ Lenderman: “Right Back To It” was easy pick for one of the best songs of 2024 the day it came out. Mind you, that day was January 9th. Nearly an entire year later, that first impression hasn’t faded in the slightest. With her quiet confidence and knack for serene folk compositions, I’m convinced Katie Crutchfield could write poignant yet down-to-earth crooners about complicated relationships and the passage of time in her sleep. But “Right Back To It” is no snoozefest, it's vivid and homey, all tangy banjo and canoodling guitar with a steady foundation of bass to anchor it into the earth. Crutchfield’s vocals are a warm hug, her signature rasp melding perfectly against MJ Lenderman’s subtle harmonizing. But what makes the song particularly special is how it articulates what it's like to have someone with whom, no matter how much time as passed or how many conflicts arise, you can return to with certainty and stability. “You just settle in like a song with no end,” Crutchfield says, knowing it's something to hold close to her chest: “if I can keep up, we’ll get right back to it.”

23. Check by FLO: British trio FLO are on a quest to bring the sultry sass of 2000s girl groups into the 2020s, bursting onto the scene with the cheeky confidence of divas that have already been slaying the scene for years. Jorja Douglas, Stella Quaresma, and Renée Downer wield their supple triad harmonies into sticky hooks that rival the best songs of the era they pull from. Is this song catchy? Check. Are the harmonies on point? Check. Is it one of the best pop songs of the year? Check. The lyrics focus on the post-launch vetting process of modern dating, the narrator ringing off each desirable quality of her new beau like she's scribbling it in a heart-locked diary with a glitter gel pen. He’s trustworthy, loyal, spoils her, and pays for their dates. Finished off with perky squiggles of guitar, gossamer synths, and a locked-in drum groove that begs for hip swinging, it’s a song that matches the boy toy described, “a perfect ten.”

22. Yeah x10 [MIXED] by Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross, Boys Noize: It’s hard to write about a song off the Boys Noize-remixed version of the Challengers soundtrack in isolation, because my enjoyment of that album is deeply wrapped up in how every song on it flows together. But amidst the pulse-pounding thrum of sultry electronics that comprise the record materializes the particularly insidious hook of “Yeah x10,” built around the simple refrain of the songs title. I can’t tell you how many times this year I mumbled “Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah” under my breath as I typed up essays, folded my laundry, or took out the trash, infusing these mundane tasks with the badass bitchery of Tashi Duncan and co. That’s the power of this song, it’s two-clap pop-and-locking, the sly swerves of car tires skidding across pavement, all ratcheting up to a fever pitch of static before it locks back into a catwalk groove. With this song yeah-yeah-ing it’s way into your ears, for a moment, we all get to be part of the hottest movie of the year.

21. THINGS BEHIND THINGS BEHIND THINGS by Bon Iver: “THINGS BEHIND THINGS BEHIND THINGS” hit me late in autumn, as most of Bon Iver’s music does, ushered in by chilly November winds and existential agony over what the hell I’m going to do with my life. It nestles comfortably within the established Bon Iver sound—folky guitars, crystalline textures, alto pontification from Justin Vernon. “I’m afraid of changing,” he admits, and this anxiety over stagnation saturates deep into the song. Lyrically, he bends platitudes backwards into modes of self-examination, “I get caught looking in the mirror,” “I got caught compiling my own news,” pursuing an explanation for it all. The song’s title offers up a hazy gesture towards the interconnectivity that links our lives together, echoes of history swirling into the edges of our reflection. “THINGS BEHIND THINGS BEHIND THINGS” is as comforting as it is confounding, a reminder that we cannot move forward without looking back, looking in.

20. Sucia by Empress Of: Just one of the many sensual pop gems on Empress Of’s forth record For Your Consideration, “Sucia” pulls apart from the rest of the pack by being one of the most unapologetically dirty songs of the year. “I’m’a roll around in it,” Lorely Rodriguez taunts over a filthy combination of churning bass and grumbling vocal samples that’ll get your ass shaking. Throughout the song, she alternates fluidly between English and Spanish, and boy howdy am I glad I sharpened my language skills while studying in Spain this year, because it means I can furiously blush along to her lyrics, which are bonkers explicit and so so fun. “I can’t keep clean when your face is between / Cuando estás entre mis piernas” makes me feel like I need to take a goddamn shower. “I smell your sweat / You’re so hard / to forget” is the lyric break of the year, slipping by so slyly you might miss the double entendre. “Sucia” ecstatically revels in the dirtiness, celebrating the pleasure it brings, polishing away the grime to reveal the sparkling pop gem at the core.

19. Motorcycle by Remi Wolf: I usually turn to Remi Wolf’s music for rambunctious production and boisterous energy, but on “Motorcycle,” the butter-smooth ballad that lands smack dab in the middle of her latest album Big Ideas, she chooses to take things slow. It’s truly special when the moment of reprieve on a pop album hits just as hard as the bops, and on “Motorcycle,” Remi Wolf’s minimal approach works wonders. Every detail is perfectly curated to supplement the sensual, balmy atmosphere, a sly shuffle of bass, a sprinkle of snare, a wa-wa-ing synth. The details are languid and sun soaked, smoking on the roof sans bikini top, watercolor puddles, the ordinary romance of positing “we could get a dog.” It’s hard to make comfortable rest as compelling as bombastic breakups or chaotic crushing, but Remi Wolf pulls it off. What’s the good of all that drama if there isn’t a great song to play over the end credits? “Motorcycle” is the sound of the breeze rippling through your hair as you ride off into the sunset.

18. bye by Ariana Grande: It’s a bold move to have the first proper song on an album be all about endings, but Ariana Grande pulls it off on her spectacular seventh record eternal sunshine. Despite the tragedy of the song describing a breakup, “bye” is a downright joyous listen. Like other titanic entries in her catalogue, such as "Honeymoon Avenue," "Greedy" and "Into You," "bye" transforms Ariana’s familiar realm of modern R&B-pop and infuses it with a timeless, exuberant extravagance off the bouncy horn accents, disco-dappled synth swing, and punchy strings. It’s the perfect backdrop for her to reframe the details of a breakup with a soft smile, her friend Courtney pulling up in the driveway, moving boxes, anticipating the moment in the future where she can "look back with love." Despite the controversies and Broadway blockbuster adaptations that shaped her public image in 2024, Ariana Grande sounds wholly comfortable and secure in the choices she narrates here. At this point in her career, she has nothing left to prove, but that doesn’t mean she can’t keep raising the bar regardless.

17. Juna by Clairo: Living up to the title of the album it hails from, Clairo’s sweet little indie hit “Juna” is reserved yet effortlessly charming, infusing her cozy bedroom-pop aesthetic with swanky jazz ornamentation. “Juna” shimmies and sparkles with lush details, glistening keys, velveteen-soft guitars, and a silly yet sumptuous mouth-trumpet solo. Clairo’s delivery throughout the track is reserved, almost hushed, like she’s whispering lovestruck confessions right into your ear. “You make me want to buy a new dress,” she whisps, before infusing the sweetness with a subtle sensuality, “you make want to slip off a new dress.” The subdued, rich orchestration of the song lends to its palpable intimacy and shimmying anxiety of recognizing just how well somebody knows you, how exciting it could be to eventually see more of them. “With you there’s no pretending,” Clairo affirms. “Juna” feels warm and familiar, but also opens up a new dimension to her sound. Despite the lingering shyness, she comes off more assured in herself than ever.

16. Better Hate by Jessica Pratt: My adoration for Jessica Pratt’s album Here In The Pitch was a slow burn this year. While opener “Life Is” captured my attention back in July, but it was the follow up of “Better Hate” that fully enraptured me and kept me coming back. The song's composition is dark yet sumptuous, like pitch black velvet, and inscrutable yet delectable mode of chamber pop infused with a lively bossa nova swing. Pratt’s voice careens out of the tapestry like it’s pouring out of a gramophone in the corner of an attic, welcoming the listener to ponder the nebulous lyrics on self-recognition and a relationship in question alongside her: “I’ve been clear before / what’s the longing there? / Just a sad case, I’m nobody’s fool.” Do I know what that means? Not completely, but I believe from the conviction of her delivery that Jessica Pratt does. In the meantime, I’ll have to keep letting this song welcome me into its enigmatic depths, parsing for meaning in the darkness. If we're all here in the pitch, we might as well get comfortable.

15. cherry cola by Devon Again: This might just be the poppiest pop song of the year, in title, subject matter, and sound. I started bumping Devon Again’s “Cherry Cola” back during the Summer, and in the months since, its pulse-pounding, explosive sugar rush hasn’t waned in the slightest, each repeated spin as fun and fizzy as the last. Every time I hear it my heart feels too big for my chest. Or maybe I'm just overcaffeinated, much like Devon Again herself. The song abounds with sweets-studded details of a whirlwind romance that’s almost too intense to bear. “Loving you is like sipping on straight syrup,” Devon Again belts on the chorus, “Cover me in in candy / I’m so lucky that I get to know you.” The production lives up to that description, reducing the thrill down to sticky pop concentrate. Every synth, cymbal hit, and flourishing swarm of guitar builds up and up to an impossible height, the carbonation foaming up over the lip of the glass and cascading over you for a taste of bubbly joy that you’ll never forget. Shoutout to @bellamysgriffin for putting this on my radar.

14. Theater by Etta Marcus: Etta Marcus busts down the door on her debut album The Death of Summer & Other Promises with “Theater,” an avalanche of drama and panache you’d expect from the song’s title. Lyrically, she recounts putting on a performance of perfection and nonchalance for her partner, and as the song progresses and the instrumental escalates, the reality of the situation peels back and back until there’s nothing but an empty stage and glaring lights laying her desperation bare for everyone to see. “I wanna be loved,” Marcus confesses with the power of an entire breath as the drums crash in, “I wanna be loved / Like right out of a movie where I’ll be the star.” Imagination is a powerful and necessary tool for us to picture the best for ourselves, but it can’t stop the pain which comes with returning to reality and all that idealism fades away. “Theater” is the song for that first breath of realization, the daydream and nightmare slamming up against each other in one of the best power ballads of the year. A round of applause, now, everyone, for the damn good show.

13. Ever Seen by beabadoobee: Even as beabadoobee continues to come into her own as a singular singer-songwriter and bona-fide rock star, working with the likes of Rick Rubin, I must confess that my favorite music from her will always be her adorably earnest synth pop tracks, like those from her 2021 EP Our Extended Play. Thank goodness she still offered up some of that on her latest record This Is How Tomorrow Moves with “Ever Seen,” a song so ridiculously lovestruck and adorable that it makes me both euphorically gleeful and jealously infuriated. The song captures the feeling of gazing into your lover’s eyes so hard you can feel hearts blooming in your pupils like a cartoon character, a gauzy whirlwind of fluttering guitar strums and beabadoobee’s cotton-candy wisp of a voice. She alludes to deeper reasons why this relationship means so much to her, but at the end of the day, it distills down into a single detail: “He has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” And sometimes it really is that simple, the act of seeing, of being seen, that mutual recognition that’s simply electrifying in such circumstances. Isn’t that what love is all about, at the end of the day? Until I’m able to find such magic in the real world, I’ll just have to keep returning to this song to remind that it’s obtainable in the first place.

12. The Architect by Kacey Musgraves: Kacey Musgraves writes an open letter to a higher power on “The Architect,” wrestling with the desire for there to be “blueprints or plans” that would imbue her life with a deeper meaning. Whether you’re religious or not, I think there’s something universal in this feeling, the clutching for an explanation of life’s haphazard mechanics and boundless beauty. Musgraves scales these emotions from a single sweet apple to the Grand Canyon to her own face in the mirror, her clarion voice set against a gentle rollick of simple strummed guitar. My favorite touch are Daniel Tashian’s backing vocals, a voice in the distance that seems reachable one moment and invisible the next. The song finds fruitful ground in the ambiguous confluence of fate and free will. “I thought that I was too broken / And maybe too hard to love,” she sings in the song’s final verse, “I was in a weird place, then I saw the right face / And the stars and the planets lined up.” Whose face is it? The architect’s? A lover’s? Her own? Even though life’s grand plan remains out of reach, Musgraves relays how, every so often, we can still find moments where everything seems to make perfect sense. 

11. Docket by Blondshell ft. Bully: “Docket,” Blondshell’s one-off single in collaboration with indie rocker Bully, takes the award for my favorite opening line of the year: “I said ‘Don’t shake my hand it’s wet’ he said, ‘I’ll kiss it instead’ / He said ‘I saw the whole show,’ I’m not scared of the sweat.” There’s an allure in someone cutting through your excuses and wanting you for everything you are, no matter how repugnant it can be. On the rest of the song, Blondshell and Bully unpack a doom spiral of sex and guilt amidst life on the road, parsing through the desire for closeness and distance, marking down hookups on a checklist of obligations to smother the self-loathing. “It’s cruel to let you love me” they harmonize at the brink of the chorus, remembering the partner waiting for them back home, “I don’t want what I need.”  The song animates the whirlwind of shame and half-satiated lust with scorching guitar riffs and screamed backing vocals pushed deep into the mix, the admission of guilty conscious clawing to the surface at the shoulder-shrug declaration at the end of the chorus: “My worst nightmare is me.”

Honorable mentions: "Down Bad" by Taylor Swift, "Do you wanna" by Astrid Sonne, "Comin' Around Again" by Amber Mark, "Love Me Not" by Ravyn Lenae, "Pushing It Down and Praying" by Lizzy McAlpine, "Whatever Forever" by Ber, "Houdini" by Dua Lipa, "Big Love" by Suki Waterhouse, "Touch" by Katseye, "Cha Cha" by Sophie Hunter, and "Sticky" by Tyler, The Creator, GloRilla, Sexyy Red, and Lil Wayne.

And that's the list! In a year where the blockbuster releases didn't let up for a second, I'm sure I missed a lot of great stuff. Please let me know what your favorite songs of 2024 were!

Thank you all for the support for this blog throughout the year. Here's to 2025 being just as amazing for music.

Much love, TIM

[gretavanlace]

Welcome To Hell

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, angst, degradation, praise, impact play and illusions to impact play, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk, oral sex, alcohol consumption, etc.

This one spun outta control like I wrote it on black ice. My apologies for length and shitty editing in advance xoxo

Jake hates a scene. Loathes raised voices that might demand the hushed attention of a room. Despises eyes hungrily devouring, unblinking, staring, consuming. The morbid curiosity of it all is abhorrent.

What’s going on here? Those eyes ponder, raking over the situation in devilish glee. It’s human nature, he knows, like when you struggle to look away from something gruesome, but he doesn’t have to like it.

Unless he is strutting his way across a stage, soaking in the anguished, desperate need and admiration of those who buy a ticket to take the ride, he doesn’t want it.

Wrapped in an embellished suit and spilling his soul into the universe from behind a sword made of frets and strings - that is the only time his stoic nature allows him to step into the light when he so often yearns for the shadows.

Jacob is a libertine of the finest sort, but only once the curtain has dropped. Or, with you wearing the marks of his teeth, legs spread wide and inviting, beneath him.

You know of this particular aversion, this detest of observation. Of course you do. You know it now, and you knew it last night. You just hadn’t been able to find the will to give a damn.

So, rather than taking a few deep breaths to center yourself and maybe making the switch to water, you had fumed, allowing frustrated thoughts to stoke the bonfire of anger within you - and you drank. And drank. And drank. Ordering rum and coke after rum and coke until you could feel the bartender clocking you carefully, attempting to decide if he’d overserved you. He had. He most definitely had.

As is so often the case with angry drunks, it suddenly seemed such an ideal time to pick a fight. A good time to pitch your voice loud enough to bring the conversation at your table, in a tucked away corner of the bar, to a grinding halt.

A great time to accuse him of wanting to fuck the bubbly little raven-locked beauty, with the tiny skirt and anything but tiny tits, that had been fluttering around him at the pool table. A sex dripping hummingbird flitting about in his personal space, while he donned a soft, welcoming smile.

A wonderful time to invite him to go fuck himself as you stormed through the crowd dramatically.

A fantastic time to rage against the situation concocted within your inebriated haze, complete with sloppy tears and dramatic overreactions, until Danny had finally wrangled you into an Uber…riding along beside you while you dozed, head heavy on his shoulder. Exhausted from your drunken tantrum.

When you woke this morning, you did so with no memory of how you had ended up in bed, or who had removed the complicated, strappy heels from your feet. Or who, like some great god of mercy, had left the tall glass of water waiting on your bedside table. But you had your suspicions, and they were paired with small flashes of memory that proved you were correct. Daniel. Who else?

Another elusive bit of information was when Jake had finally made it home. You’d found him, splayed across the couch, hair tangled against a throw pillow, boots kicked off, but otherwise fully dressed. He was home, but you were unsure of how long that had been so. He might have collapsed onto the cushions five minutes after Danny tucked you in, or he might have stumbled in with the sun, cock still warm from her mouth.

Though, without the alcohol clouding your judgment, the very idea seemed ridiculous. Jake, with his sleepy eyes and gentle heart could never, and would never, even if he could.

He’d rolled off the sofa while you quietly rummaged around in the fridge, yanking out the ingredients you’d need to create a ‘terribly sorry for being an embarrassing mess last night’ BLT…a peace offering stacked high with peppered bacon and remorse.

When he found you once more, he was showered and looking no worse for wear. He looked so softly domestic in his hard worn jeans and long sleeved T, and you had longed to make amends, but he declined your breakfast of apologies. Even waving off the steaming mug of coffee you held out to him, while muttering something about the studio.

Never one to withhold affection in twisted punishment, he had kissed your forehead and strode out the door, assuring you he’d call if things began to look as though they might run late.

But his irritation with you was evident. Tangible in a way that sent a sharp pang of guilt flashing through your heart. He hadn’t forgotten, and he hadn’t yet forgiven.

You’d spent the rest of the morning ambling through the market. Piling your basket high with carefully selected root vegetables. Bags stuffed full to their brims with parsnips, turnips, and sweet potatoes. Onions, carrots and fennel, nestled in beside the broth and spices that would soon create the base for Jake’s favorite stew.

Veggies, lovingly sliced and diced, were rolling lazily this way and that, dancing in a slow simmer, when the first spits of rain began to pebble at the kitchen windows…

And now, here you sit, waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs, legs tucked to the side and hidden beneath the hem of his favorite outfit. A worn and tattered, thrifted sweatshirt, at least three sizes too large, displaying the name of a university neither of you have ever heard of.

Inexplicably drawn to it at a flea market the two of you had stumbled upon, you plunked down a five dollar bill and immediately made it yours.

That same night, he’d watched you hack away at the sleeves with kitchen scissors, then hem the jagged edges with a needle and thread, tongue clenched between your teeth in concentration. And as he watched, he sank even deeper into the pool of his love for you.

That unskilled tailoring had resulted in sleeves that were uneven, but no longer swallowed your hands up. You wear that stupid sweatshirt around the house as a dress constantly, hair a mess atop your head in a bun, legs bare, and he doubts he could love it more if he tried.

You don’t know a thing about his little love affair with this particular article of clothing. Sometimes he says nothing at all when words threaten to fail, which is so very often the case between his heart and the tiny things that make you, you.

He finds you there, biding your time until he slips back into your orbit…waiting for his return with hopeful eyes glittering with love. That love softens his resolve and he feels the annoyance that has tried his patience all day, lessening.

“Hi.” You sound quiet, your one-worded greeting weighed down with contrition.

“Hi.” He takes his time leaning his guitar case against the door jamb, meticulous in its placement to be sure it won’t shift and hit the floor, and then adds a somber, “Something smells good.” as he pulls off his water sodden boots.

“I made stew.” You’re avoiding his eyes now that you can feel his energy. “Your favorite.”

“S’good weather for it.” He nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Chilly.”

You want to rise to your feet, to close the gap of space between the two of you. It feels cavernous. But, you prove rooted in place with the uncomfortability of it all. Are you actually discussing the weather? Like strangers on a train?

At last, you gather your bearings and stand, no longer a deer frozen in the headlights of his disappointment. “Jake…”

“Let’s just forget about it, alright?” He turns away, though you’ve reached for him. “Maybe it was a little much. It’s understandable that you’d be jealous, she was pretty. Beautiful, really.”

He’s said it to be cruel, to be hurtful, and the low blow has successfully landed, but you pretend it hasn’t. On with the show. He won’t remember she ever existed to begin with by the end of the night.

“But you’re still upset, baby…” you breathe the words gently and nuzzle your nose along his jawline. “You’re still angry with me, underneath it all. I can feel it.”

Relaxing his stance in your arms he huffs a tiny sigh. “I just— I don’t know why you have to—“

Your teeth graze over the delicate scar that lives just below his cheekbone. The spot that never fails to render his heart soft and his cock hard. “Why I have to what, Jake? Misbehave?”

A smoky ‘fuck’ slips of his lips when your fingers curl into the waist of his pants, tugging the linen with just enough force to remind him of where your fingers are.

“You should make me behave.” You kiss your way along until you find his mouth, licking into it with a quiet and obscene hum.

“I was mouthy and so mean,” your palm slides across his warm, soft stomach, fingers inching further downward just to hear the breath in his lungs catch. “and you’re always so good to me, Jake. So sweet. I don’t deserve it.”

Deeply perturbed though he may be with you, his love runs deeper still, “you do deserve it, sweetheart. Even when you’re drunk and terrible, you’re still my favorite girl.”

The pad of his thumb trails across your bottom lip, string-worn callous catching the velvet skin that scrubs and masks keep silken. “Careful with my lips, Jakey,” You lightly scratch against the sparse, downy hair that trails his navel. “I work so hard to keep them soft for your pretty cock.”

His hand runs up the nape of your neck and, with his fingers wrapped around the base of your bun, he snaps your head back with a deft flick of his wrist. The searing sting makes you hiss through your teeth and he calls back with a groan through his own clenched bite. “I didn’t ask for your smart mouth. You’re in trouble and I think a bit of respect would be a wise decision on your part, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” You arch forward, longing to press yourself against the sturdy warmth of his body.

Rather than allow it, he loosens his hold on you and steps back, studying your flushed face as though he’s never laid eyes on you before. As though he’s heard tell of what you’re capable of, and is deciding whether or not it might be worth his time to fuck the brat out of you.

“You want to be punished?” He walks his fingers down the outside of your thigh, barely making contact with the trembling muscle you’d give anything to feel him bury his grip into. To watch him spread you open wide and claim his prize.

You nod, cock drunk on him already, though you’ve yet to see it, touch it, worship it.

He tilts his head, as if weighing the possibilities “What if I take you outside, hmm? March you to the gallows?” His touch remains far too light, too gentle. “Make you pick a switch…put you over my knee right there on the front porch, show the whole neighborhood what a nasty fucking handful you are.”

“Whatever you want, Jake.” And you mean it. You probably shouldn’t, but you do. God help you, you mean it.

“Call me Jake one more time and I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.” He warns, pressing a finger to your lips. He doesn’t want a response. Watching you play by the rules for once will do just fine for him, thank you.

In a breath, his hand is warm between your thighs, fingers toying with you, taunting, teasing, withholding. “Upstairs. Now.” His demand comes gently, but it leaves no room for discussion all the same. “Everything off. I’ll be up when I feel like it.”

~

You wait without patience, but he isn’t in the room to scold you for fidgeting this way and that, nor is he close enough to hear your tiny huffs of annoyance…

…until he is.

You never hear a sound. Not a creak on the stairs, nor footfall in the hallway…he simply appears in the doorway like a specter. An apparition, bathed in darkness and sex, sent to ruin you.

Your black phantom moves closer, eyes never landing on you, though you wait on display for him. Nipples pebbled and aching, sitting on your heels with your knees parted so that he might catch sight of his favorite place to play.

He ignores all this and instead, focuses on the soft lengths of rope you have laid out beside you at the foot of the bed.

Jake knows this rope. His thoughts skip to the white rose bushes you planted out back one sunny morning, in homage to his band. You’ve cut it from the spool you use to tie the bushes to stakes, ensuring they grow straight and strong. He will never look at those white roses again without remembering this moment.

“And what is this for, baby girl?’ He runs a length of it through his fingers thoughtfully. “Are you expecting to be tied down? Would you like that?”

“Yes.” When did your voice grow so meek? “Tie me down and punish me…any way you’d like.”

He drops the rope, entirely disinterested, “Spread your legs and touch yourself. Love on her for me. She must need it bad by now.”

You obey instantly, earning a lazy smile in reward. But as quick as that smirk appears, it vanishes, when he leans in close enough to brush your nose with his own, while you circle your clit with faint pressure, careful not to get greedy.

“I don’t need rope, sweetheart.” He hushes like a secret “You will stay where I put you. You will lie still when I say so, and you will move when I say so. You will do as you’re fucking told, or you will suffer the consequences. Are we clear?”

Leaning in, your tongue laps over his lips, desperate to taste him…he takes momentary pity on you and offers the tip of your tongue a gentle suck before straightening.

Wandering over to the dresser, he begins digging around in your top drawer, shuffling satin and lace around, searching. “I’m thinking of filling your pretty mouth up. You look so lovely with my cum dripping off your lips.”

A sound of wanton anticipation whines out of you. “You like that? You want to get down on your knees and ask forgiveness? Prove how sorry you are with a cock in your mouth?”

He’s fucking obscene, and you plan to relish every second of his condescending filth. You sigh shakily in confirmation and lick the lips he spoke of so indecently, eager to get on with it.

“Well, it sounds like you want it, so I suppose that isn’t much of a punishment at all, now is it?” At last he turns, and you drink in the beauty of his face.

“Put these on.” A scrap of fabric lands on the duvet beside you.

Fingers clasped around white silk, your eyes squint in question. “You’re asking me to get dressed? I thought we were moving in another direction here, Kiszka.”

He is across the room in a blink, grip locked around your chin. “Watch your tone, miss mouth. You’re toeing a line you don’t want to cross, I promise you.”

The brat in you shoves up her sleeves, ready to get to work. “Or what? Are you going to bend me over and spank my ass until I beg you to stop?”

The light in his eyes snuffs out, leaving only a menacing darkness that sets your pulse to racing as he slowly leans in. Lips caressing the shell of your ear, he strokes a thumb down the swell of your breast. “No, Sweetheart, I’ll bend you over and fuck your ass until you beg me to stop.”

A sigh of a gasp escapes you, fluttering his hair.

He straightens and casually pets your hair, “But we don’t need to worry about that, do we? Because you’re going to be a very good girl for me, aren’t you? You’re going to be the best girl - all for me, isn’t that right?”

Your response comes immediately, and without thought. “Yes, sir.”

“You see?” He smiles, booping your nose with the tip of his finger. An innocent, cuddly act that doesn’t match the tone of the room “My baby girl has such manners. Now,” he swats a finger at your cheek, “put your panties on.”

“Why?” You’re doing as you're told even as you question him.

With an off handed air, he answers, as if bored with your inquisitiveness. “Because I’d like to taste your cunt on them, that’s why.”

“Please?” Oh, how fucking pathetic you are - and oh, how little you care.

“Please what?” He is so quiet, so tender, as he sinks to his knees before you, you can almost trick yourself into believing he’s going to give in.

“They’re on.” You snap the elastic at your hip and fall back on the bed, nestling into the cool cloud of blankets and sheets beneath you. “Taste me on them. I want your mouth.”

He hums softly, the back of his knuckle trailing over your clit as it aches in desperation. “You’re beautiful everywhere, aren’t you? My pretty, pretty girl. Don’t you wish for a kiss, baby? Wouldn’t that feel nice? Soft and slow? Right here on this perfect clit?”

His fingers wander with just enough intent to make your hips rock as he gazes down between your thighs “Sweet and swollen. Just wants to be spoiled a little, doesn’t she?”

Nodding eagerly, you fist at the blankets, grounding yourself. “Please,”

“You want my mouth?”

Suddenly, you have it. His tongue, like warm, wet satin, laps over you through the scant material you’ve already soaked. “Like that, baby?”

He sounds so smug “is that how you want it? Or do you want it like this…” his fingers peel your panties aside to allow his tongue to wander along freely.

A muffled hum chokes it’s way out of your chest “Yes, baby, please. Don’t stop…” your hips thrust up to meet him “More...”

“Aw, sweetheart…” he taunts, landing a cruel smack against your center that makes your thighs snap together “and you were doing so well, too. Bossy gets you nowhere, little girl.”

Shoving your legs apart, the pad of his thumb circles over the dripping material that is, once again, concealing your clit. “Think you can cum like this?” He sounds so casual, as though he’s asked you for the time. “If I touched you and licked you just like this?”

As his face draws nearer, you begin to pant…breathing lust heavily into the room. “Yes! Yes! Please, Jake…”

His eyebrows raise, mockingly pondering your face as you stare down at him, silently willing him into action “But I’m not even really touching you. I’m touching your panties, that’s all. Are you really that pitiful? Needy little pussy, dripping and begging.”

“Fuck!” Your fist tangles in his hair, tugging at it urgently and without care.

He hisses at the burn of the sting - the flash of pain he has never hidden his affections for - and then there are both of his hands, wrapped around your throat carefully. Ever mindful to never hurt you in a manner unintentional. To never get carried away and leave a mark he hadn’t thought out, coaxed a tear he didn’t anticipate.

You’re left to whine under his wicked glare until, at last, his voice comes…guttural and threatening, yet still glazed in velvet, lush and rich. “Fucking behave yourself. I won’t tell you again.”

His grip tightens, locking you in the warm vice of his hands. He sees the insubordinate gleam in your eye, and he’s warning you, though he knows it will do no good. “And if I don’t?”

The second you speak, you wish you hadn’t. He isn’t the only one who can read the thoughts behind your eyes, and a poisoned malevolence is darting about in his.

“If you don’t,” he offers you a cruel tip of his brow, like he thinks the answer should be obvious. “If you don’t, I’ll make you watch her preen, pretty and sweet, with my cock down her throat.”

You ought to be ashamed for the way your body writhes and throbs at the very idea of it, but you’ll worry about that some other time.

“You’re evil,” you breathe.

He seems amused as his thumb begins to stroke over your pounding jugular, “Am I?”

“Yes.” You’ve never wanted him more.

“Well then, pretty girl…” his tongue snakes up the side of your cheek, “welcome to hell.”

~

Hours may have ticked away, or perhaps just minutes. It’s entirely plausible that time stopped its monotonous shuffle all together, and you’re now floating in limbo.

There is no way to tell. There is only Jake.

Jake, as he moves above you slowly, deliberately - tangled waves of silken chocolate gently swaying, creating a hazy curtain of his scent around you as your vision blurs.

“Harder, baby…” your words are quiet, barely a whisper, and pointless. “Please.”

“Shut up.” He hushes back as if confessing his love. “I’ll fuck you harder when I decide you deserve it.”

You shouldn’t do it. It’s manipulative, and underhanded. You do it anyway. “Did you really want her?”

You know he didn’t, you’re simply aiming to weaken his resolve. It backfires in a way you’d never expect.

“How do you know I didn’t have her?’ He taunts mercilessly, slipping his thumb in your mouth to pry it open. He speaks into it, licking and sucking at your lips and tongue between vicious words, still sliding in and out of you at a maddeningly slow clip.

“How do you know I didn’t go home with her?” He eases his thumb into your mouth for you to suckle comfortingly “Maybe, while Daniel was tucking you into bed, I was tucking my cock inside her?”

“Liar.” You choke out through a moaning clench around him.

A feral sound growls out of his lungs as you squeeze up tight. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it. You were being so mean. Maybe I wanted her because she looked at me like I hung the moon and made her little pussy all wet and messy.”

Your teeth bury themselves into his flesh, but he merely curls his thumb and pries your bite open.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” With a blissfully swift snap of his hips he fucks into you a little harder. “You don’t wanna play in the kitchen anymore now that the heat’s caught up with you?”

Your hands move to latch onto his shoulders through the shirt he has refused to remove, his pants are only unbuttoned and shoved down far enough to slip inside of you, he says it’s all you’ve earned.

Yes, your hands reach for him, but he puts a stop to it with a harsh, clipped, order. “Hands down. Now.”

Palms once again flat against the bed at your sides as you’ve been instructed, he carries on fucking you, filling the room with your desperate moans and whines, and his bullshit lies.

“I wanted to put my hand on her waist right here,” he tucks into the dipping curve just above your hip and grips tighter and tighter, tugging you closer. “Yeah, right here, just like this. Just the way you like. Right where I grab you when you’ve been a good enough girl to take it hard.”

He can feel the muted fury seize your muscles up tight while your heart begins to pound a hyper-beat of fiery madness, and he jabs at you further with a taunting grin, smoothing his palm flat up your trembling skin sweetly until the globe of your breast is cupped in his hand. “And I’d have done it, baby girl. I’d have fucked her, but I knew you’d smell her on me…perfume that wasn’t yours, the scent of her skin, of her pretty cunt…”

“Fuck you,” the blow comes out of left field, even to yourself, and lands hard upon his cheek.

He fights the recoil and nuzzles into it, body humming with electric lust. “You’re so mean, sweetheart. Do it again.”

“Please!” The sobbing need turns your plea into a prayer, fraught with the desperation he has grown completely addicted to.

It rips a carnal, raspy groan out of his chest. He is full of lies, and he knows it just as well as you do. He needs what only you can give. You’ve rendered him a man willing to do anything to get even just a taste of the way you love him.

But, Jake loves the game, as well.

His warm clutch, rough from the unforgiving metal of strings, closes around your throat once more, eyes fluttering when a moan chokes out of you.

You sound like angels sighing, but he doesn’t allow himself to be lost completely, lest you win this round.

“I said, do it again.” Teeth clenched, his demand comes with authority that leaves no room for defiance.

He steels himself to absorb the blow, but his cock twitches wildly inside you upon the cracking impact and you can’t help yourself. “You like that? You sick fuck.”

A grin, flashing and gorgeous, settles upon his beautiful lips. It steals the moment, shaping it into something new, something softer.

“You fucking love it. You want me to hit you back, I can see it in your eyes.”

You can’t hide anything from him - never could. He reads you with astonishing ease; fingertips racing deftly over the tiny blips of braille that map your thoughts. The rushing thump of your pulse spoken word poetry whispering secrets to him.

“I do.” Your confession slips off your tongue with quiet confidence. You are safe with him.

He caresses your face gingerly, adoring you with a feather-light touch you haven’t asked for, “I’d never hit you, baby. I don’t want to.”

A frown that you try to fight pulls at your lips, eliciting the softest chuckle from him, baptizing you in his love. He is your sweet Jakey again. Just that quickly. You don’t know whether to rejoice or mourn. “She pouts because I refused to mar her lovely face. Scandalously filthy, sweetheart.”

You take advantage of that pout he can’t seem to resist, “Fuck me harder now, sir. I need it, baby.” Sir and baby intermingle strangely, but something about it works.

“Yeah? You need it?” He begins moving faster, roughly jerking his hips back until only the silken tip of his cock rests inside you before driving back in, punching a cry of relief out of your lungs each time, over and over and over.

“Let me touch you…” you’re panting and struggling to speak.

“Go ahead, baby,” he sounds so gentle, but he dips down and bites into your neck viciously, releasing only to groan your praises as your fingers lace into his wild tangles “there’s my good girl, there’s my good fucking girl.”

He sweeps airy kisses over the apples of your cheeks, each in turn. “Pretty little piece of heaven, just for my cock. All snug and soft, aren’t you, sweetheart? My girl.”

Nodding in frantic agreement - you are his girl. You couldn’t be anyone else’s - you raise your head and press your forehead to his shoulder, wailing against the cotton of his shirt as you bite into it…so close you can nearly taste the grainy, sugary sweetness of your long awaited release.

“Cum for me pretty, baby.” His demands are breathing out of him tenderly now…gentle as the rain that’s still tapping at the windows. “And say my name, it sounds so beautiful on your tongue. Makes my heart hurt.”

You know what he means, sometimes there is too much love between the two of you. It batters itself against the cages of your hearts. Enormous and overwhelming, threatening to split you wide open at the seams of your very souls…it is too much, and it is never enough.

And you do; you call his name. Chanting it like the chorus of your favorite song, pressing it into the cracks in the wood, etching it into the glass with your cries, so this room, this house, never forgets the love it once held.

The house will remember him as well, the pained sounds that claw out of him wildly as he fucks you through it, and lets go, sinking into you as though he’d like to disappear inside you completely.

This is all that matters. Jake. You. Love.

You’re both breathing up at the ceiling, hands clasped between you as you hunt down some semblance of calm.

“The stew.” You remember, too tranquil to really care.

He sounds just as serene as you do, “Took it off the heat before I came up.”

You squeeze his hand in silent thanks. “We’ll go down and eat soon. I’ll heat up the bread I picked up and…”

Trailing off, you don’t finish your sentence, but he’s crossed over into half-sleep as well, so there’s no one to notice.

Some time later, you blink slowly awake, confused by the darkness in the room. He stumbles his way back to consciousness soon after, and the night settles in with you curled in his lap on the back porch, sharing a bowl of stew - the rain, now nothing more than mist, dancing on the grass.

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