#IM STILL SOBBING LOVE AND RESPECT IN THEIR EYES

[unriding]

very messy word dump below the cut + in tags :^) heh

okay it’s officially been a full day since reading this and i’m going to write down everything i remember feeling from day 1! and then in the tags im going to reread this (for the third time within 24 hours) and add thoughts that i didn’t put down here. SORRY FOR THE MESS & NO PRESSURE TO READ ALL THIS SJKDMF IT IS JUST A LOT OF WORD VOMIT BC IM INSANE OVER THIS FIC

okay i should start from the beginning. Wait I’ll use caps so it’s easier to read if you’re reading it bahahhaa OKAY. The way you write alpha / omega!!! It’s different from what I’m used to reading— and I mean it has a lot of a depth. The way you wrote reader being an alpha = being so protective over Aventurine fucked me up so bad /pos. Reader just wants him safe and they’re so real for that.

Going off on that, I LOVE HOW U WROTE THE READER. Understands Aventurine so well. Will literally do anything to keep him safe. Understands what sets him off and what he’s comfortable with. The part where Aventurine was talking about the next mission & reader seeing right through him ): are you serious /pos. WAIT I SKIPPED TOO FAR AHEAD. When Aventurine was trying to get reader to join the IPC? Dead. Evie DEAD. Reader saw right through him omg. Being able to notice the little changes in his scent, the way he tries to mask it etc etc. I love that so bad.

WHEN READER FOUND HIM IN HEAT FUUUCK. ARE YOU SERIOUS /pos. Fighting the urge to help him vs waiting to just make it better because reader has the power to ): I loved that so much. The struggle was so real. Literally bringing a doctor just to hear that he needs an alpha to help anyways omg. Lowkey when the doctor said that I was like PLEASE LET US HELP YOU PLEASEEEEEEE. But also. I didn’t want him to be scared either you know ):

I skipped over another scene sighs. THE part where reader said ‘I like your eyes because they’re yours” and then the end. Him saying he likes our scent because it’s ours. Are you serious /pos. Be so serious /pos.

Okay the scent gland scenes actually fucked me up so bad (I unfortunately did not dream about anything but maybe that is for the best because I’m still recovering from this scene). The part where he asks for just the wrist. Reader struggling when they FEEL HIS TEETH GRAZE THE WRIST IM GONNA EXPLODE OMFG. The immediate pulling away because we don’t want to scare him please. + the scent gland scene at the end. HE DIDN’T FEEL LIKE HE HAD TO BE ON TOP. We could lay side by side ): I was so happy that he was okay with that omg. Literally all giddy like aaaaa!!!!!! IM NOT A THREAT!! Actually that’s a lie I wasn’t giddy. I was literally in tears jejdkckckckk Aventurine 😭😭 ughhhhhhh /pos

I won’t comment on the actual scene (I am commenting on it right now actually) because I was literally so sad and my heart hurt so badly for him. I wanted him to see himself from our POV for just one moment so he can understand that we genuinely love him and treasure him & want to keep him safe. ):

ABOUT YOUR WRITING ITSELF : insanity. I will just say insanity. How should I put it in words….. just thinking about this fic again is taking all the words out of my mouth shejdjfjj (I say this as I type a 27738 page essay about it). I love how you write. I really do. Your writing style is so beautiful. I haven’t read the other tags under your fic but I’m sure many others have said the same thing!!! They word it better than me I’m sure bsjsjsjsjsk

I just love everything about it. How you add in little details (oh! Speaking of details— Aventurine’s reaction to reader cozying up to her husband in the other fic) HEJDJJDJDJ omg. But in this fic, the little signs of him being scared. Scared 24/7 actually ): I love how you conveyed his fear so much. And the way he tries so hard to hide it. HIM CRUMBLING DOWN TO HIS RAW SELF WHEN HES IN HEAT. AND THE FEAR THERE TOO. INSANE.

^^ How you wrote him so adamant about not needing help at first …. To him asking for the scent gland ….. to him agreeing to use reader. It was all so real. He didn’t just change his mind like oh okay! It took him a while to be okay with it and I love how real it all felt. You write dialogue & little details so well— it actually drives me nuts (/compliment /pos)

Oh this just reminded me. Your description of how Aventurine smells killed me /pos. And how you describe his scent as sweet. I’m really not okay /pos. It fits him so well. And … for reader…. the scent after rain ? Oh my god ???? I love that smell so much. It’s so comforting…. OMG. COMFORTING????????? BECAUSE. Oh wow. I’m really not okay now. I JUST LOVE ALL THE DETAILS LIKE THAT )))): it’s so clear you put so much thought into all these things because your fic has so much depth. I lowkey yanked out Notibility for your other Aventurine fic to highlight the parts I wanted to comment on ehdjdkkck I was annotating it like a book (I’m so sorry if this is creepy I promise I don’t do this on a regular basis. I don’t annotate fics normally. Actually please disregard this because I’m a bit red admitting this) (I just have the memory of a goldfish and can only remember feelings and not actual content) (That’s a lie because here I am remembering a lot of this fic MOST LIKELY BECAUSE I READ IT WITH MY EYES AN INCH FROM THE SCREEN PROBABLY I WAS LIKE O_O) /pos

NIGHT FLOWER: part i

Your place in the world was one of a tool. This was true of every slave: you were all things to be used. Kakavasha understood this about you, and he understood this about himself. It was how he survived all those years ago, and it’s how he survives now. And so, when Aventurine goes into his first heat in years and decides to suffer it alone, you can only think of one way to get him to accept your help: You offer to let him use you.

written for @/lorelune's spring fever collab & @ficsforgaza

13.5k words of omegaverse, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst with an eventual happy ending. gn alpha reader + omega aventurine (they each have both amab and afab genitalia). explicit piv sex, reader bottoms, the sex is consensual but emotionally complicated and deeply sad. cw slavery, racism, gendered violence, including very brief and non-graphic (but direct) references to sexual abuse during slavery. the sa and slavery are not eroticized. dead dove do not eat, mdni.

thank you to @acerathia, @minnaci, @owlespresso for all your help with beta reading and to @kosmiccarma for brainstorming omega aventurine hcs!

“I’ve alw███ l█ved ███, Ka██v█s███”

You knew it from the moment you met him.

Gaunt, pallid, weighed down by heavy chains. Irises that glowed like the auroras back in your world. Delicate features that made every passerby in the market stop to read the description on the placard. (Sigonian, it said, although you couldn’t read at the time. Avgin. Male. Omega. Sixteen years old. Sixty Tanba, no tax.) He had an all-consuming scent that was impossible to ignore—one that possessed you, made your heels dig into the dirt, every atom in your body resisting the impatient jerk of the chains at your wrist. Even through your muzzle, through the perpetual stench of carbon-steel and blood, you could smell it: honey and wildflowers. A fragrance that settled deep within you, flooded you with a warmth that felt like home.

Aventurine is not a spiritual person. He once told you this, his smile cold in the glow of an artificial moon. He'd been deeply religious as a child, but hasn’t since cared for fairy tales about fortune and fate, three-eyed goddesses or merciful rainfalls. Hasn't thought about anything like a destined love. He thinks the idea of a true mate is laughable, that no such bond could ever be forged between an omega and an alpha. That nothing so unconditional could ever exist.

You know differently, of course. You've known it from the moment you met him, from the second you laid eyes on him and thought, I need to help you, and I need to protect you, and I need you to be safe, and you’d never once heard the word ‘love’ in your life—slaves are never loved by their masters, after all, and you'd always been nothing but a slave—but every atom of your being knew that you loved him, that you'd always love him.

And when your master cradled your face that night and crooned that he owned you, that you'd always be his obedient, alpha pet—for the first time in your life, you knew that he was wrong.

You didn't belong to your slaver.

You belonged to him.

To Kakavasha.

These days, Aventurine does not smell like honey, and your jaw is not restrained.

Your muzzle was one of the first things that Aventurine threw away when he bought your freedom. According to the Amber Era system, it had been several months since the murder of your shared master. Ninety-five Star Calendar days after the Interastral Peace Corps had arrested Kakavasha. An entire rotation around the black hole at the centre of your wretched galaxy, all of which had been spent in the captivity of some new mistress. She picked you out because she liked your calming scent and the look of your face, but mostly she used you for the fighting pits just like your old master.

Aventurine had been sitting in the audience of your final match, then bought you out right after you won. “I’m in need of a fighter,” he’d said, smiling in his thick furs and jewels. He played the part of a slavemaster perfectly, his gloved hands wandering the span of your aching shoulders, touching the bloodied maw of your mask. “And I’d be willing to pay top credit for yours.”

She protested. You were her most prized possession, one of her greatest investments. Slaves from your planet were hard enough to come by—alphas capable of reproduction, nearly impossible. And you were so well-behaved, so poised, so endearing in a way that was rare for alphas. She was fond of you. Her omega slaves were fond of you too. They would be distraught if you left, and that would complicate her household affairs—and surely Aventurine, as a respectable owner of human capital like herself, could understand how inconvenient that would be?

Aventurine bared his teeth in a gracious smile. (You’d never seen Kakavasha make such an expression before—so disarming, so cunning, a crescent moon beneath snake eyes. He’d never smelt like this either, like an expensive cologne layered with bleach, and it left you feeling nauseous, wondering if he was ill.) He flirted his way into her good graces, made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, and then he brought you into the first-class ship on which he’d arrived. You were so stunned by its luxury—the handwoven carpets, the crushed velvet seats, the imported tea from several galaxies away and the custom-ordered outfit he had bought for you—that you nearly missed the tremble in his hands as he punched numbers into the remote control lock for your chains.

He had regained his composure by the time he pulled away your muzzle, though. He threw it carelessly to the ground—your titanium chains, too. Then kicked both away with his shined leather shoes.

“There,” Aventurine said, smiling cheerfully. “Much better, don’t you think?”

“Vasha—” you started, voice thick with wasted grief, and all you wanted to was reach for him, to double check that he was real, but he placed a finger to your lips and stopped you. You stiffened at the satin touch, but he seemed unbothered.

“��Aventurine’,” he corrected.

You stared blankly. “What?”

“‘Aventurine’. Like the gemstone. That’s my name now.”

“You—” Your voice caught in your throat. You realized that you’d been holding your breath. You always had the habit of holding your breath in the luxurious, private rooms of very rich men, because you never liked what happened in them. Forcing yourself to breathe, you asked, “You gave yourself a new name?”

“No. The IPC gave me a new name. They gave me a job, too.”

“A job?” you asked, voice faint. Now that you were breathing again, you were noticing once more just how bizarre he smelled. Sterile and expensive and completely foreign. “You’re free now?”

“Well, I’m a freedman, but I don’t know if I’d call myself free. I’m a bit… indebted to the IPC, let’s say. But that’s fine. I can’t complain. I mean—look around. This beats the fighting pits, doesn’t it?” He gestured lazily at your surroundings, and you nodded.

“It’s nice here,” you replied, feeling absurd but not knowing what else to say. Once Kakavasha got talking, it was impossible to get a word in edgewise.

“You like it here? Good. This room’s yours. Mine is the next one over. You’ll live and work here, with me. I’ll make sure you’re paid well. Full benefits, vacation, salary, and overtime. The standard pay for your role is seventy-thousand credits per month, but I’ll see if I can get you more. HR is pretty strict about their hiring policies, but—”

“You’re hiring me?”

Aventurine went very still, his smile tightly controlled. His eyes remained fixed on you, but they seemed less snake-like, now. They looked more familiar. More afraid.

“I’m offering, yes,” he said neatly. “You’ll be part of my personal security detail. I don’t have the contract for you to review yet, unfortunately. I didn’t arrange one ahead of time because, well”—he laughed, as if this were polite conversation and he were making a joke about the weather—“I didn’t know if I’d find you alive. But things worked out in my favour. They always work out in my favour. I’ll make sure they’ll work out in your favour too, so long as you’re with me. So you’ll consider it, won’t you? Staying with—working for me, I mean.”

Your eyes went soft. Beneath the artificial fragrance, you finally caught a hint of his familiar scent—more wildflower than honey at that moment, the way it always is when he’s scared.

“Kakavasha—”

“Name your price,” he said loudly, “and I’ll match it.”

You sighed. “Vasha,” you said more gently, and his shoulders relaxed at the subvocal shift in your timbre, at the famed alpha Voice that necessitated your muzzle, “I don’t care about the money. Of course I’ll stay here. But—what happened? Why did you kill him yourself? Why didn't you let me do it? That was the plan. It was always supposed to be me.”

It was my job, you thought then, just as you had thought to yourself every night, curled up in your bed and trying to recall the scent of fresh honey, to keep you safe.

He shrugged and said, “It would have been too risky to involve you.”

“You were caught and sentenced to death. The risk was already too high.”

“But the stakes weren’t,” he replied simply, and before you could ask what he meant by that, he continued, “and it worked out, didn’t it? I work for the IPC. You work for me. We’re freedmen now. Whatever I've lost, it doesn't matter. Our gains far outweigh it.”

“And what have you lost, Vasha?”

He smiled at you, charming and distracting. A crescent moon beneath snake eyes. “Nothing of value,” he reassured you, and even though you could feel the calm of an omega’s voice washing over you, even though it released all the tension in your body, all you could smell was cologne and wildflowers, and you knew that he was lying.

Vasha once told you, curled up and quiet on the basement floor, that he despised his eyes. They were supposed to be a sign of blessing from Gaiathra Triclops, but they'd never brought him anything but trouble. They were the first thing that the slavers always noticed about him, the feature that made him such an alluring commodity. Their aurora glow, their strange beauty, their promise of a rare opportunity: a chance at owning a specimen of an exotic, endangered species, possibly the last of its kind. These are all things that you've heard in the parlour of your master’s house as he entertained rich company, the crowd of them gawking at his human curios.

Avgin are said to make the most beautiful slaves, he'd often say. And Avgin omegas are said to be the most beautiful among them. What do you all think? They'd all hum, peering closely at Kakavasha’s features, and inevitably someone would joke, I think I'd like to borrow him sometime, and then they would all laugh while your pulse ticked up and you imagined tearing at their throats. Vasha would search for your gaze in these moments, giving you a long, pointed look: Don't do anything stupid.

He’d always been so blasé about it, the way people fixated on his Avgin blood. You'll never understand how. He didn't react to any of the comments, the groping, the innuendos. He was, however, distinctly unimpressed at the way that your master liked to play him up as a rare and expensive acquisition, as a sign of his own status. It's embarrassing to watch, Kakavasha had remarked. Everyone knows that Sigonian slaves are uncommon but cheap—people always think we’ll bring them more trouble than our worth. This was how Kakavasha had ended up in the market in the first place: because his last master had been robbed, and he'd been wrongly blamed for it.

The blame, to this day, has never stopped. People—powerful people, politicians, businessmen, socialites—look at Aventurine’s eyes and immediately reach for their pockets. You've seen it for yourself, these spineless despots and scammers feeling for their wallets. Sigonian, you know they're thinking. Liar, cheat, thief, whore, worthless, worthless, worthless. Your hands tighten around your blade each time, a loaded gun with a finger on the trigger.

Alphas are said to be violent by nature. Aventurine has often called you the one exception to this rule: the most docile, good-hearted alpha he's ever met. But this is a lie. You do have a predator instinct, and it comes out in full-force whenever you’re around these particular types of men. These types who notice Aventurine’s eyes and see a thief; these monsters who see his irises and imagine what it would be like to bed him. You’d kill them if you could. It would be so easy, especially now that you are an IPC dog. The Company is already such a violent force; what would be one more murder?

But Aventurine has never ordered you to punish anyone. (Don't do anything stupid, he always tells you with a glance, smiling through every humiliation.) Nor has he ever seemed bothered enough by these meetings to try concealing his heritage.

A fellow Asset Liquidation Specialist once asked why he didn't just hide his eye colour—it would likely be better for fostering relationships, negotiating deals—but Aventurine had shrugged it off. I'm a gambler working with the IPC, he'd said. Do you really think a pair of coloured contacts would make anyone trust me? He'd laughed, and his voice had carried a threatening edge, and his coworker had shifted visibly at it. Being an Avgin is the least threatening thing about me, wouldn't you say?

You think that Aventurine likes being seen as a threat. Sometimes you wonder if this is why he doesn't mind wearing his eyes so much, but abhors keeping his scent. He washes his clothes until they're free of his disarming sweetness and then masks himself with an unsettling blend of ambergris, jasmine, and wood. And he is on suppressants all the time—hasn’t had a single heat since the day he killed his master. Hasn't smelled like himself, either.

At the end of the day, it’s manageable being an Avgin in this business, he often comments, spraying half a bottle of masking cologne on himself, but you can't be an Avgin and an omega. Wouldn’t you agree?

You'd know better than me, you reply, noncommittally—and truthfully.

But you're an alpha, he observes. Don't you have an opinion?

You don't pay me to have opinions, you always remind him, stone-faced. You pay me to stand here and look scary. And Aventurine always laughs at this, and he always wires you money and calls it a bonus as he pesters you for an answer, and he always gets distracted and starts scrolling through all his shopping wishlists instead. I saw this thing the other day and thought of you. And this too. Would you like either of them? Would you like them both? I’m a very generous manager, you know. I'll buy you anything you like.

But even though he always gets distracted, Aventurine never forgets. Sooner or later, he inevitably circles back to these questions—these anxieties about his scent, about his eyes, about his blood. He never cares for anyone else’s opinions, but he's always been curious about yours. Even when he was Vasha, he wanted to know what you thought.

He’d been sixteen years old and delirious with heat the first time he asked you, face wrinkling with pain as he spilled his thoughts. It was so incoherent, so sad, you thought it must have been about a fever dream. Mama Fenge, he kept saying. Mama Fenge blessed me, She blessed me, I'm blessed, it rained when I was born—did you know that? My luck, I was lucky. The Katicans, they never caught me. They got everyone else, but not me. I was blessed by Her. I'm going to save my people. I will. I'll save my sister. My eyes are proof. My mistress liked them. Said they're beautiful. Worth sixty whole coppers. A blessing. He pulled you close, pressed his scalding face to your scent gland, and his whole body shuddered with relief. This was the first and only time he'd allowed you to hold him, and it was only out of desperation, out of his mind. Do you like them, alpha? Do you like my eyes? Why? Is it because they're beautiful? Because they're from Gaiathra?

“I like them because they're yours,” you'd replied, and Kakavasha had laughed deliriously.

This is when he told you he hated them: I'd close them forever, if I could.

When you were younger—dumber—you had a habit of squirrelling away every spare coin you came across. You collected them in a little purse that one of the omega slaves had sewn for you—a thank-you for always keeping the other alphas away from her—and you hid it underneath a loose floorboard. By the time that Kakavasha was arrested, you'd saved up twenty-nine Tanba. You’d wanted enough to buy Kakavasha’s freedom and then to set him up for a comfortable life.

It had been a stupid plan. An embarrassing one. If you ever confessed it to Aventurine, he'd laugh at you. Slaves can't buy other slaves, he'd say. Leave the schemes to me next time. You’re too good-hearted for it.

You’d already known that, of course. You knew that you didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him, but you wanted to. God, did you want to—you spent every waking moment thinking about it, every sleeping moment dreaming of it. It wasn't even that you desired him, though he was beautiful and fragrant and more delicate than anything that had ever touched you in your life, which was only your master’s hands and your muzzle and your chains. Aventurine would feel so soft in comparison, you’d always figured. It made your heart ache, thinking about getting to hold something so lovely.

But really—that desire came second. What came first was how mated omegas feel safe around their alphas, and you so desperately wanted him to be safe. Kakavasha had looked so frail, so grim, as your master took his chains and led him home from the market, and you could smell the fear coming off him in waves. And you could do nothing to stop it. You had nothing you could use to stop it—nothing other than your hands that could kill for him and your pheromones that could soothe him and your useless heart that wanted to collect sixty Tanba for him. That was all you had.

So you failed in the end. Of course you did. You didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him. You couldn't even do for him the one thing you could have done—which was to kill. And Kakavasha suffered for your incompetence. He had to dirty his hands with blood and gamble his way into wealth and then suddenly he was freeing you, not the other way around.

And now you are comfortable. You'll lead an easy life from now, Aventurine reassured you when he brought you onto his ship all those years ago, and he's kept that promise. What about you? you'd asked him then. Will you lead an easy life with me, if you're working for the IPC? And he had smiled and lied to you: Yes.

It had been a painfully obvious lie. If you were a smarter person, you'd have never believed it in the first place. Aventurine has no interest in leading an easy life, because an easy life would be less profitable, and less profit would mean less safety. And he is always, always worried about being unsafe. It is indiscernible to everyone but you—an alpha (his alpha, always his, even if he doesn't want you) who has watched over him for so long that you can detect every shift in his scent. No matter how much cologne he drowns himself in and no matter how strong his suppressants are, you know when he is afraid.

And here is the bitter truth, the ultimate proof of your shortcomings:

Aventurine is always afraid.

It is a beautiful day on Agnisahr, and you can tell that Aventurine is about to throw up from worry.

You're sitting in the middle of stunning wealth—Aventurine in his feathers and jewellery, you in your tailored jacket—in a lobby made from marble and pale sandstone, with a view of palm trees and rolling, scarlet sand dunes beyond the window. The waitstaff addresses him as Honoured Guest and they keep his crystal chalice filled constantly with water—one of the most expensive commodities on the planet. Aventurine has been drinking from it religiously, which is strange as he typically has the habit of forgetting to hydrate. A faint wildflower scent is drifting from his slender form. These are the only giveaway to his mood: he's otherwise as pokerfaced as ever, smiling calmly as he discusses his plans to sabotage the local government and acquire the planet for the IPC.

“This is a very dangerous mission,” you state flatly.

“All my missions are dangerous.” He takes a sip, one pinky up. “The IPC pays me well for a reason. As they say—”

“‘High risk, high reward.’ I know.” You try not to sound bitter, though you allow yourself to sound tired. “I still do not think the risk is worth the reward in this case.”

“I think over 5.6 million in credits is a great reward, actually. We could do a lot with that kind of money.”

You raise a brow. “What could an extra 5.6 million get you that you can't already buy?” It is—as Topaz would say—‘chump change’ in comparison to his current wealth, which sums to a number so vast that you can't wrap your head around it.

Aventurine pretends to miss the point. “Tons! We could buy a new spacecraft. Get another mansion. Or—we could take a vacation to Penacony. I hear it's quite nice there.” A playful smile. “I could get us a penthouse unit. With a featherbed.”

You frown. Sometimes Aventurine likes to flirt when you're being stubborn—not out of interest, but as a ploy to distract you. He’d developed the habit after he joined the IPC. It used to fluster you, but now it only makes you cross your arms.

“You could die,” you point out.

“You'll protect me.”

“No, I won't. You always find a way to get rid of me when things are most dangerous.” You give him an accusatory stare. “You never let me do my job.”

He's too shameless to deny it. “And it's worked out fine, hasn't it? I haven't died so far.”

“Yes. Just by dumb luck.”

“I beg to differ. My luck is quite reliable.” He sets down his glass. Glances back outside. A microexpression, brows knotting for the briefest second as he studies the sky. “I'm not worried.”

“You're a shit liar.”

That gets him to look at you, letting a small frown pass over his face. “No, I'm actually a great liar. You're just too good at reading me. It's very inconvenient, you know.”

“I can't help it.” You lean toward him, making a show of it as you sniff. An orchid-like scent—faint but unmistakable—has seeped into artificial ambergris and wood. “It's hard to ignore.”

He hums. He isn't frowning anymore—but doesn't look happy, either. “I should change suppressants.” He taps the side of his empty glass, fidgeting. Aventurine never fidgets: it's an amateur giveaway. “These ones clearly don't work well enough.”

“That won't help. I know you too well.” Your eyes soften. He's looking outside again, the blues of his irises distant. “You're worried, Aventurine. More than usual. Let’s back out of this—let Jade handle it.”

“The mission isn't what's bothering me,” he says patiently. “I just don't like this planet.”

“Because you can tell it's dangerous.”

“No. Well—it is, but nothing I can't handle.” He leans back. “I just dislike the weather here.”

You arch a brow. “...the weather?”

“Yes,” he says neatly, “it's too dry here. I'll break out.”

You open your mouth. Close it. It is possibly the most absurd thing you've ever heard, and certainly the worst lie that's ever come from him. For as long as you've known him, Aventurine has had flawless skin, marble-smooth, and ever since being freed, he’s never really cared much for looking handsome so much as looking rich. But he maintains his serious expression: all-in on the farce. “Did you know that outside the capital, this planet hasn't had any natural rain in a quarter of an Amber Era? And the stellar winds are terrible. I don't know how people live on a planet like this.” His eyes narrow at the cloudless sky. “The IPC is going to need to do a lot of terraforming if they want to make this into a merchant hub.”

“Aventurine.”

“It'll be a pain crossing the desert—the elements will ruin my clothes, you know,” he continues. “It won't be so bad while we're on the ships, but we’ve got to go outside from time to time. Can't make any friends otherwise.”

“Aventurine.”

“And there's nothing to do for fun when we’re not working.” He sighs dramatically. “I can't wait to get our 5.6 billion and leave for someplace else. I'm being serious about Penacony, by the way—”

“Aventurine.”

“—though not about the featherbed. I'll get you your own room, obviously. And I'll buy whatever dream experience you’d like. What kind would you want?”

Finally allowed a chance to speak, you say, “One where you retire.”

“Retire? Why would I ever do that?”

“I don't know. Maybe you decide you've made enough money.”

“No such thing.”

“Then you can settle down with someone.”

That makes him smile. It feels mocking. “Me? Settling down? With who?”

“Who knows. Someone who will treat you better than the IPC, I hope.”

“Anyone that nice would run in the other direction. But never mind me. This would be your dream experience. What happens to you in it?”

“I stop chasing after you and get to live out the rest of my days in peace,” you say dryly, and Aventurine blinks. “Please stop deflecting. The IPC gave you a suicide mission. We will both die if we stay here.”

He looks serious now. “I wouldn't let you die.”

“You can't know that.”

“Well, I do. And I've got decent chances at surviving too—at least one in ten.”

You feel like sighing—a deep, aggravated noise is heavy in your throat—but Aventurine doesn't enjoy it when you show anger around him. It's the one omega instinct that he can't ignore, you suppose: unease around an aggressive alpha. Voice tightly controlled, you say, “You’re going to bet your life on one in ten?”

  “Sure. My chances were worse on the last planet, and things worked out great. It'll be the same on Agnisahr.” Aventurine raises a hand, calls for the bill. The conversation is over. You lean back in your seat, watching sourly as he pays tens of thousands of credits just for water.

“You know, they say the royal family is backed by an Aeon,” you can't help but point out, once the waiter is gone. A last-ditch effort. Aventurine smiles at it, amused. Like you're a child.

“So what?” He glances outside, at the desolate landscape beyond the oasis—nothing but red sand, a blue, rainless sky, and two radiant suns shining above it all. “The protection of a god is nothing compared to the schemes of human beings. And gods abandon their people all the time, anyway.”

During your tenth day on Agnisahr, you realise that something is deeply wrong.

It takes you some time to understand what’s happening. At first you think that whatever political danger you’ve intuited is much worse than you thought, and that’s why Aventurine has been so pale, so discomforted, so exhausted. Then his scent starts changing—he switches clothes two, three times a day (because of all this heat during Agnisahran days, he tells his new business associates) and spritzes his nape with his cologne almost religiously—and you wonder if he is sick with something. If the food in this planet has something that disagrees with his Sigonian biology, or if he has picked up one of the local filoviruses, or if someone’s poisoned one of his meals because they’ve correctly identified him as a threat. Aventurine dismisses every single one of these theories when you bring it up, and—as if in denial—only attributes it to the weather. (I’ve never done well in deserts, he tells you, his eyes on his phone screen. I'm not used to them. It is above 300 Kelvin, and you do not see a single bead of sweat on his neck, and his cheeks are not even a little flushed.)

You only figure it out when he is too ill to get out of bed one morning and forbids all the IPC staff from coming near his hotel room. It sets off alarms immediately—Aventurine, no matter how sick, will work and see through meetings as long as he is mentally capable of it—and so you naturally ignore his orders and check on him, using the spare key to his sleeping quarters that you're given as a policy. And as soon as the door cracks open—as soon as you step inside only to be hit with a violent, cloying sweetness—you realise what’s happening and slam the door shut behind you.

“You’re in heat,” you blurt out, and Aventurine—a shivering, panting mess on the bed—groans in response.

“Why are you here?” He turns toward you, still lucid enough to glare at you through the tangled mess of his hair. His voice is weak, but no less self-possessed: “I was very clear—no company today.”

“I am your personal bodyguard,” you remind him mildly. Your voice is calm—both non-threatening and non-condescending. “Those orders don’t apply to me. If things feel suspicious, I look into it. And they felt very suspicious.” Your brow knits as you study his clothes. Mulberry silk clings to his form, soaked through with sweat. Thin, eucalyptus sheets are tangled up around him. There are only two pillows. No water bottles. No knotting toys.

Nothing.

“You didn't know you'd be in heat,” you realise. “What happened to your suppressants?”

“I don't know.” There’s a quiet, frustrated edge to his voice. Vulnerable too. It makes you think of when you were both still slaves, and Aventurine was confined to the basement of the manor—the one that all omega slaves were made to ride out their heats in. Either they would do it alone or were ordered to spend it with some alpha, usually either a friend of the master or an alpha slave he wished to reward. That's when they're most pliable, he'd tell his guests, or sometimes even you. They get so desperate they'll present themselves to anyone. Then amused laughter from the other party—How obscene!—as you looked away, blood hammering in your ears.

You had been your master’s favourite. His most obedient, most profitable pet—striking enough for his guests to admire, deadly enough for his audiences to bet on, docile enough for him to enjoy. Good enough for him to reward, and he often rewarded you with his most beautiful slave: his Avgin omega. Just don't mark him, he’d said, fastening the muzzle around your mouth. It'll ruin his market value. Who knows if someday he'd sell Kakavasha off to some alpha master who wished to claim him, he said. Though I don't think there's anyone in this star system who'd want a Sigonian for a mate, let alone a Sigonian slave. Then he’d paused, eyes scanning over you. As if contemplating. But maybe they'd try to get Avgin whelps out of him, he added, and you felt like throwing up.

You'd never mate him in those moments, your muzzle always prevented you from saying. You didn't even want to think about touching him, and he didn't want to think about it either. Even in the cruel grip of his heats, with nothing but the thin mat beneath him and his slave’s rags around him, Kakavasha hadn't wanted any kind of contact from you, rejecting any chance of solace. Don't, don't—not again, not again, he'd begged. Then as the nights marched on and his mind grew hazier, he’d start whimpering too: It hurts, alpha. It hurts. Help me. It hurts. Don't touch me. Not again. It hurts. It hurts. Stop it, please stop it.

It gutted you.

It went against every instinct, not to touch him. To let him lie there, in scorching, lonely pain, when all you wanted to do was to dispel it. It would be so easy to press yourself against him and let his skin cool against yours, do the one thing that your body was good at other than killing. But not again, not again, I can't anymore, I don't want it, I never wanted it, and all you could do was sit there, unmoving. Watch as the most delicate, precious thing you had in your life shatter.

And standing here now, watching Aventurine shatter before you once more—it is unbearable. He needs a nest, you keep thinking. He needs a nest and some water and some kind of touch, some kind of relief, but not again, not again, and you’re still a slave, still a worthless and stupid slave, and Kakavasha is still crying on a basement floor and you can't do anything for him.

“You need help, Aventurine,” you say, voice soft, and his whole body tenses. His scent dips, and the scent of florals overwhelms you.

“No,” he breathes, “I don't.”

“You do. You're sick.” You bite your lip. Your heart splits as you suggest it, but you say, “I can call a professional.”

“No,” he spits. The facade is gone. The poker face has cracked. The anger and the pain and the fear are all on full display, and his voice sharpens: “No strangers.”

No foreign scents, you realise he's demanding. A new scent would probably make him feel unsafe.

Then let me help you, you think of pleading, but not again, not again, and you're filled with so much shame at the thought that all you can do is look away.

“Then—can I do anything?” He goes still. “Not—not that, but something to make you more comfortable. I can build you a nest, at least—”

“No.” He takes a deep, shaking breath. “No nests. I don't need one—”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don't,” he says. His voice is wavering now, on the verge of crumbling with fever and pain. “I've never—I’ve never needed a nest, I don't—I don't want to—” He presses his face into his pillow. “I need—I need to be alone, fuck—”

He doesn't mean to whine. The cry for distress is instinct, something that all omegas are programmed to do in heat. You’ve heard that they’ve evolved to make this noise as a way of appealing to nearby alphas for help, but you think this must be a lie as you never once saw your alpha master giving mercy to any of his omega slaves. Still, whether it is your biology or not—the noise that Aventurine makes has your heart aching so much you can't help but step forward. But he shakes his head and inches away, shuddering violently, and then his voice echoes again in that cold basement—not again, not again, and don't touch it anymore, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore, not again, and it's all you can do to back away until your spine is pressed against the door.

“I'm sorry, Vasha,” you say, strained. “I’m sorry. I'll leave you now.”

As the door shuts behind you, you catch a final glimpse him—face pressed into the pillows, shivering.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was crying.

When you were both slaves, Aventurine hated seeing you during his heats.

Kakavasha was normally calm around you. Most of the time, he was even friendly (he was friendly to everyone whom he thought could be useful), but he was different during his heats. Sometimes he was vicious; mostly he was withdrawn. Nearly always, he wanted to be left alone. In those moments, all he could register was your alpha scent and his memories of what other people had done to him during his heats. And while you'd have hated to leave him, despised the idea of him being offered to another alpha—even more than that, you hated violating this boundary of his. Hated that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to him. Hated being the reason he felt so unsafe.

Hated being an alpha.

Now that you no longer have the orders of your slavemaster hanging over you, it is the least you can do to respect Aventurine’s wish of being left alone. He has every right to privacy, and you have every obligation to give it to him. But instead you have been standing here, outside his door, for a full system-hour.

Every time you try to leave, your body is wracked with anxiety. The thought of other people—other alphas—coming near him in this state makes you seethe, your hands flexing at your side. The predator instinct comes out, and the people around you notice it. Every person unlucky enough to walk down this hall scurries away under your glare, even the other IPC staff wandering about to look for Aventurine: Must be their mate on the other side, they remark to one another, and then they're gone.

It is a hard thing to hear. You are not his mate. You are not even a heat partner. If you were, then he wouldn't be in so much pain. Not now, and not back then.

Aventurine has never had easy heats. You keep replaying your memories of all his past ones, each one a wound in your heart: the aching sweetness of nectar and honey; his withering body as he clutched his abdomen and curled up; the tears and sweat staining the mat beneath him. And above all: the fear. The scent of it, the sight of it, the sound of it in his voice. Stronger today than any other day.

By instinct, you know that he cannot persist like this. That this time is somehow worse than all those other times, and that he will become seriously ill if left alone.

After nearly an hour and a half, you finally open the door, fearing the worst.

“Aventurine?” you say quietly, but there's no response, and your stomach drops as you see him.

His body is pale, listless. If it weren't for the fragrance washing over you or the sweat on his temple, you'd worry that he was dead.

Tentatively, you reach out. Rest a hand on his forehead, and it scorches you. He stirs at the touch, doesn't open his eyes—but the quiet sigh of relief is unmistakable. His fingers twitch, as if wanting to reach for you.

“Aventurine,” you say gently. “Aventurine, I'm going to take care of you. Is that alright?”

He doesn't respond. You grimace, pulling away to fetch things for him: several spare pillows from the closet, an extra blanket too. From his suitcase, you grab a few of his sweaters, all thick cotton and fleece. He’d had a sense that Agnisahr would be cold at night. Deserts always get cold after sundown, since sand doesn’t retain heat, he'd told you while he was packing. Or I think so, anyway. Don't know why. Must have read it somewhere. Then he’d given you a long, unreadable look before saying, Make sure to bring a jacket. The warmest one you have. The elements on a planet like Agnisahr can kill a person—even a person like you.

I’m sure I’ll be fine, you’d dismissed him. I can survive anything. Any kind of weather, any kind of illness, any kind of pain: these are all things your species is known for being able to endure, the trait that made you such a prized slave in your master’s eyes, such a useful agent at the IPC. You hadn’t given Aventurine’s warning any thought and hardly paid attention to what you’d thrown into your own suitcase.

It surprises you, then, that you find one of your sweaters in his luggage. Made from Sedanian cashmere and heat tech designed by the Intelligentsia Guild. Cloud-soft and warm to the touch. Aventurine had bought it for you before you were deployed to Jarilo-IV to collect intelligence for Topaz. Warmest thing in the known universe, he’d commented. One of a kind, too. Remember to wear it, alright? Don't let my money go to waste, now.

You stare at it, kneading the fleece between your fingers. You hadn’t mentioned wanting to bring this sweater. You’d lost it in your closet some months ago and forgot about it. Aventurine must have remembered and gone looking for it, because—why? You aren't sure. Probably because it’s warmer and softer than anything he owns, you guess. Of course he’d want to wear it.

You throw it into the pile of things you’ve collected for him.

You take it all to his bed, the mattress dipping as you sit next to Aventurine. One by one, you scent each item with your wrist, watching him carefully the whole time. You’re quiet as you lay them out around him, leaving him undisturbed as you build a nest. You order water and electrolyte drinks too, and you’re quick about going to the door when you hear room service knocking—with how feverish he is, he probably badly needs it.

Aventurine is awake when you come back. His breathing is still laboured, pained—but calm.

“I said I didn’t need a nest,” Aventurine says, though he doesn’t sound angry. You wonder if he’s too weak to be. His voice is faint, and his eyes are barely open—focused on the pile of blankets and clothing around him.

“You’re welcome.” You open a bottle of water, hold it out to him. “Drink.”

Aventurine pauses, stares at the offering like it's some kind of foreign object. But he accepts it eventually, sitting up and taking it from you. He winces with the movement, which he tries to hide. He ignores your frown as he drinks, and he doesn't stop until the bottle is empty.

“There are more,” you say, pointing at the several additional bottles on the nightstand. “And some food and some painkillers. I don't know how well they’ll work. This isn't a normal heat. If you're alright with it, I'll call a doctor and—”

“Everything smells like you,” he says quietly, and you stop.

“...yes. Unless they’re mated, nests usually feel most comforting to an omega when they smell like an alpha.” You swallow, looking away. “...you don't have a mate, and you didn't want a professional, so this was the only option I could think of. I'm sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says. He picks out one of the sweaters that have made its way into the nest, the Sedanian one. “I don't mind it.”

“Oh.” You let out a breath. “Then—can I call a doctor?”

His grip on the sweater tightens. “No.”

You frown. “Aventurine—”

“I’ve never needed a doctor before,” he says. He sounds unbothered, but he's fidgeting with the sweater now. “I don't need one now.”

A lie. He almost certainly needed a doctor in some of his prior heats, but you don't push the matter. “Maybe you don't need one,” you say instead, “but it would help.”

“I don't need help,” he says, and you look at him in disbelief. He catches your expression, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Not more than you've already done, I mean.”

“I’ve barely—”

“Contact Topaz. Tell her I'm incapacitated. Tell her…” He hums. “Tell her I have food poisoning. The personnel too. It's not time-sensitive, our business on Agnisahr, so it shouldn't matter if I need a few days off.”

“You really need—”

“Give my regrets to our Agnisahran friends. Deliver it in person. They see you as my right hand, so they’ll most appreciate it coming from you. Topaz can help you with the verbiage. And—try to socialise with them a little, won't you? I think that little omega princess of theirs likes you. Some of the courtesans too, and they have surprising influence.”

“I do not want to be around any omega other than you right now,” you say before you can stop yourself, and Aventurine stops, blinking. His expression is blank, if perhaps a little curious—but his scent shifts. You can't identify how. You add quickly, “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re this sick.”

“Ah. Right.” Aventurine looks away. His voice sounds strange, and his heat must be getting to him again, because it carries a hint of pain. “But you have to. The IPC’s goals take priority.”

You frown. “Your life is more important than the IPC,” you say, and he laughs. Loudly.

“What? This is just a heat. I’m not going to die.”

“You don’t know that without seeing a doctor.”

“I do. I’m willing to bet money that I won’t die.” He cuts you off before you can reply: yes, you're always willing to bet on your life. “And even if I do, that would still be less important than Agnisahr. Do you know how many resources are on this lifeless rock?” His mouth slants. “If we mess up here, I’m dead anyway.”

“I wouldn’t let them touch you.”

“Yes, you would—because they would kill you too.” Aventurine sighs. His eyes close, and his brow creases—a sign that whatever reprieve he was lucky enough to get is about to end. “Go do what I asked. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll… see a doctor if you do.”

You stand immediately. “Alright. I’ll be back to check on you.”

“I know.”

You stop at the door, giving him a long look. Seeing him like this—lying on a proper bed, cradled in a warm nest, with water and food and medicine nearby—you feel a little better. This is leagues beyond what he’d been afforded in his days as a slave, at the very least. Even if he isn’t free, at least he isn’t trapped.

But it still doesn’t feel good, having to step away. The last thing you want to do is talk to other people, pretend to have interest in other omegas. There are an astonishing number of them who are interested in you on this planet—that princess, and some baron’s son, and one of the prince’s favourite paramours—but you can’t bring yourself to care even for business purposes when Aventurine is like this. You can't act as if you are enjoying yourself when you know he is in pain.

You wonder about telling Topaz the truth. You wonder if she’d be worried enough about Aventurine to let you neglect this mission and cover for you instead, without letting Jade or Diamond or anyone else dangerous know. Not that you think that anyone at the Company particularly cares about Kakavasha—it’s only that he’s valuable. Aventurine of Stratagems is valuable. How many worlds have fallen because of him?

But he seemed unwilling to bet on his worth to them. Which is startling, given how often he's bet on it in the past.

“What’s so important about this planet,” you can’t help but ask, “that the IPC would rather you die than lose it?”

He’s silent for a long moment. His eyes are closed—hidden—but you can see his knuckles whiten as he clutches the Sedanian sweater.

“Copper,” he says. “They want it for the copper.”

When Kakavasha first suggested a friendship to you, it had felt like something in between a proposition and a threat:

Go ahead, he'd said. Use me as you wish. You can even stab me in the back if you want. Just be mindful of this: I don't make deals that don't pay off.

It might have been a strange way of making friends in any other circumstance, but in a house of slaves, it was a natural one. You had not been a clever person—still aren't—but you understood that your place in the world was one of a tool. This was the place of all slaves: you were all things to be used. Your body was a thing to be used. It was valuable for its strength, for its hardiness, for its threat in the arena and for its convenience in your master’s bed (or in a dark basement, or within a heat house, or inside whichever omega your mistress ordered you to calm down). It did not surprise you that Kakavasha wanted to use it as well. It did not surprise you that Kakavasha expected you to use him in return.

You never would have, of course. Kakavasha was not a thing to be used—he had always been a mate. Though you were happy to let him use you, because all you were was a tool anyway, so it was really all you could offer him: to be used.

None of this has changed for you. You don't think any of this has changed for Aventurine, either. With each new friendship he makes, he repeats those familiar words: Use me as you wish. And with each person who accepts, this is exactly what they do: they use him, and they use him, and they use him until suddenly they notice he's tricked them and they've got the losing hand.

You damned gambler, they always spit. You Sigonian wretch. All you know is how to manipulate people. Thief, liar, cheat, whore. Despite all these insults, Aventurine always smiles at them. Cry as they might, he’s won his bet and has their world in his palms.

Winner takes all, he sometimes gloats.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. This is all Aventurine knows; these are his great guiding principles in life. (He's told you this point blank, stacking up chips in his favourite gambling dens with a self-satisfied grin.) You often find yourself coming back to these conversations, particularly when you need to convince him of something.

And right now, you very badly need to convince him of something.

Aventurine is ignoring his doctor’s advice. His suppressants are unstable in extreme temperatures, he's been told. During travel on Agnisahr, they'd degraded, and now he’s experiencing his first heat in several years. Of course it's going to be painful, his doctor had said. I can prescribe you some medication to ease the symptoms, but really—nothing will work better than a heat partner. It doesn't need to be a mate. Any alpha will do.

The doctor had been an alpha. You had asked for a beta or omega, but alphas tend to dominate in Interastral Medical Schools, so they're in short supply. Aventurine had been still the whole time, face unreadable, but you could tell he wanted to throw up at the stench of an unfamiliar alpha. You had stepped between the two of them, not bothering to hide the animosity in your voice. We’ll take the medication, you had said, and the doctor had sniffed the air and nodded at you in approval.

Probably won't need it. An alpha like you could sort him out with just a few rounds, he told you, and both of you stayed quiet as he left.

You still aren't talking, or even looking at each other. Aventurine has lay down in his nest again, closing his eyes, while you stand as far away as physically possible—at the door where you'd just shown the doctor out. With the room shut off again, windows closed and door locked, Aventurine’s scent is starting to flood your senses once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him shivering.

“What do you want to do?” you ask.

“Nothing.” He swallows. “I'll be fine.”

He's afraid. You can tell he's afraid. And you can tell he’ll be more afraid if you take even a single step closer to him, so you nod and say, “I'll go pick up your medication, then,” and Aventurine doesn't stop you. You can see him curling up in his nest, face pressed into the cashmere sweater.

But he still doesn't stop you.

After a few more days, Aventurine finally breaks.

There is a rare sag to his shoulders when he calls you to the room, along with a taste of dread in the air. You haven't seen him so vulnerable in years. Aventurine is not an open person, so cunning and self-possessed in his wealth—but Kakavasha was more brittle, more powerless, flayed raw and open even though he didn't often get the whip. (It would ruin his value if he ever scarred—his looks were his greatest selling point, your master said.) He was especially defeated when forced to spend his heats with an alpha he didn't want. You wonder, a vice grip of pain around your heart, whether this entire situation is simply an extension of that. Whether he is calling you here against his will, this time compelled by his pain, rather than his master. Whether this luxury suite feels like that wretched basement to him.

He doesn't look at you when he talks, nor does he sit up. He remains curled in his nest, nearly clinging onto the blankets and clothes.

“That stupid medication,” he pants out, sharp even in his heat, “isn't working.”

“I can tell.” Your brow knots. He’s in so much pain, it is palpable. “I”—you hesitate, voice dropping. “Can I help you?”

He goes quiet. As both Aventurine and Kakavasha, he has always been disinclined to accept help from other people. There is no such thing as unconditional help in his mind—only leverage and weakness. He hates it when people have leverage over him, and he hates being weak. Both are things that can be exploited, and Aventurine always needs to be the one doing the exploiting. He always needs to be in control.

Even like this, the last threads of his sanity about to snap, with every circuit of his omega biology trying to drag him into insensible lust, he fights viciously to be in control.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. Control and being controlled. This is how he's always lived. This is how he's always survived.

This is the only way to let him maintain control when he is most afraid of losing it.

“I don't mind,” you say quietly, “if you use me.”

Even through the haze of heat, Aventurine’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“I don't mind if you use me,” you repeat, voice neutral. Unfeeling. The proposal might sound cruel to someone else, but not you. After all—your place in the world is one of a tool, and this is what you've always done as an alpha and a slave: sleeping with people to take care of their needs, or sometimes just their desires. It did always make you feel strangely hollow, but you think it will feel just fine with Aventurine. All you've ever wanted to do is keep him safe, and surely, this will do that, but—

“I'll only help if you want. I don't want to force it.” You lower your eyes. “But if you do want it, I'll be careful with you. You can lead. I promise.”

“...I know.” Aventurine’s voice is weak, cracks with pain, but you can tell he's speaking with clarity. “I know you will be.”

You look up. “Then you'll let me help?”

Aventurine looks away—a sign that he cannot adopt his usual smile. He’s clutching that sweater again, pressed close to his chest.

“Just your wrist,” he says quietly.

You listen carefully. “What?”

“I just—I just want your wrist.” He looks away. “Your—your scent gland. Only that.”

“Okay.”

You get up, then falter. When it was your job to comfort your mistress’ omega slaves, you were told to enter their nests—no permission needed from them, no permission needed from you, because only her permission ever mattered for anything. The omegas were usually too delirious to care, often had even begged for it with the state of mind that they were in. But Aventurine is different. He's not like you, and he's not like them. He's never bent to any of his masters’ wills. And even if he did, you wouldn't want to have him bend to yours.

Instead of climbing into his nest, you ask, “Can I sit on the bed?” He doesn't answer. “Just the edge of it,” you add, and you hear him exhale.

“Fine,” he says, breathing measured.

“Thank you,” you say, and he gives you a confused look. But then you're reaching out with a hand, offering it, and he is quickly distracted.

Aventurine drops the sweater, grabs your hand almost immediately. He turns over your palms, fingers tracing your heartlines—as if testing you, as if mapping out territory. He runs his thumbs along the veins of your wrists, too, right over your scent gland, and you have to force yourself not to shudder at the feeling. You only stay still, letting him explore the contours of your hands, letting him acclimate to the feeling of your skin. He laces his fingers with your own, a latticework trap, and he finally drags his wrist along yours.

Both of you inhale sharply.

You can't react. You know it'll scare him if you do, but it's hard to keep still. The way his scent blossoms, the way it mingles with yours, the way it all washes over you—what you're doing can hardly be called touching, but you feel like you're going mad. Especially when he flushes like that, his vibrant eyes fluttering shut. Especially when the sweetness of honey overtakes your senses. Especially when you can smell the way his body is reacting, all that wetness and heat and slick dripping between his legs. You don't miss the way his thighs rub together, nor the hard outline of his cock straining against his pants.

Aventurine shudders. He brings your hand up to his face, rests his cheek in your palm. His skin is flushed and burning with fever, and it's no wonder that he's sighing with relief at your touch. You try not to stare at the way his mouth falls open. He looks at you for a moment, his gaze a hazy violet and blue—before he closes his eyes again and presses his lips into your wrist.

Fuck.

“Aventurine—” You have to stop, voice strangled, when you feel the full softness of his lips working against your skin. He’s panting now, laboured breaths sweeping over your veins. Then you feel his teeth catch, a gentle nip on your flesh, and when he groans into your racing pulse—deep, relieved, desperate, a noise that makes your gut flare with heat—you realise you can't do this.

You pull back your hand, and Aventurine startles.

“Aventurine,” you say, voice strained. Maybe we should stop, you want to say, but he cuts you off.

“I need”—a shaky breath—“I need more.”

You watch Aventurine carefully. His pupils are dilated, blue irises nearly eclipsed. His cheeks are rosy, and he can't stop panting. You can fully smell his arousal now, even through his silk clothes. He's desperate, needing to be filled.

But he also looks torn. His brows are knotted, and you can taste a faint hint of fear in the air now. His knuckles clutch at the sheets, almost white, and he stares at them. He can't look up. He can't look at you. His whole body is tense, like he wants to bolt—and if he weren't so weak, you think he might actually.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He doesn't nod. He also doesn't shake his head. His arms clutch at his midsection as he winces. He doesn't look like Aventurine. He looks like Kakavasha. It makes your heart ache as you watch him give into his body’s demands, wearing the same expression he did on the day your master bought him.

“...don't use your Voice on me,” Aventurine—Kakavasha—says quietly.

It takes you a moment to realise what he's asking. “I won't.”

“And”—his eyes somehow grow even more evasive, hidden by his long lashes— “don’t touch my commodity code.”

His commodity code. His commodity code that is seared into his scent gland. His code that, if you kiss, will ease his agony instantly. His code that, if you bite—will chain him to you irreversibly.

“Of course I won't,” you say instantly.

He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.

“And—” Aventurine looks away, jaw tight. His voice is quiet but wrought with tension: “—I don't like when people put things inside me.”

Something claws the walls of your heart.

“That's fine too,” you reply. “I don't mind doing it the other way.”

Aventurine’s sigh is nearly inaudible, but unmistakable. His scent shifts a little bit, the wildflower fragrance fading ever so slightly. But he doesn't come to you. He merely sits there—waiting. Expecting. Maybe dreading. Even in the senseless daze of heat, he’s too anxious to move.

You approach slowly. Though you're overwhelmed by the bouquet of his scent, though you feel a curl of heat in your belly in response to it—you are slow. Alphas are supposedly victims of insatiable lust whenever around an omega in heat, absolved of every action they take, but you are convinced this is a lie. You have never once wanted to handle Aventurine with such cruelty. You think that inflicting violence on him, more than anything else, would go against your biology. Every molecule in your body would reject putting him in such pain or inciting such fear. So you are careful when you approach him, slow as you inch up to him—but you do not think it helps.

Aventurine lies down, his face turned away from yours. His eyes squeeze shut, like he's expecting this to hurt. Uncertainty gnaws at your gut as you lean over him, draping your body over his—the only position you've ever taken an omega in, other than mounting them from behind.

(You do not want to mount Aventurine. You never have. It is an impersonal position, a position that omega biology supposedly would force him to enjoy, a position that alphas have likely dictated him to enjoy. You think there is nothing you would hate more. In your weakest, most selfish moments, in your worst ruts, when you’ve allowed yourself to fantasise about mating Kakavasha—you are always facing each other, and he is always looking at you with his eyes you've always loved, and it always feels intimate. Never impersonal. Never dictated. Never forced.)

Aventurine is so honeysweet beneath you. More fragrant than any omega you’ve ever been with. You glance at his commodity code, trying to ignore the scent of his branded skin, then lean down to press your face against the other side of his neck, where a faint scar mars the otherwise flawless slope of his nape. Like every other omega slave you've ever slept with, the scent gland there has been excised: a precautionary measure to reduce the risk of an unwanted mating bite.

(Not unwanted by them—the wants of a slave never matter—but unwanted by their owners. A mating bite would ruin the code seared into their neck, claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. It would hurt their resale value. Only owners are allowed to claim slaves in such a permanent way—and the wants of a slave have no relevance there, either.)

It's a funny thing, this surgical scar. Even with their gland missing, you've noticed that most omegas like having their neck scented by you anyway, probably from some vestigial instinct. You guess that Aventurine won't be any different, that maybe it will comfort him. But when your lips skim the scar left on him by his owner, his entire body stiffens beneath you. His fragrance cuts into your lungs, sharp.

You recoil, as if burned by the touch of him.

“Sorry,” Aventurine is quick to say. He tries to glance at you, but his diamond pupils quickly avoid you again. “Don’t worry about me. Just do whatever you need to do.”

“But you're scared,” you point out, and you see his brow twitch. “You’re scared when I touch you.”

“Not scared,” he lies. “Just…”

When his eyes finally look at you—land on your lips—you understand.

A bite would claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. If you lost your mind—give into the insatiable lust of an alpha whenever around an omega in heat—you might bite him, and then you would own Aventurine.

And Aventurine would rather die than be owned by anyone again.

He doesn't need to finish his sentence. You already know what you need to do.

“It's okay,” you say gently, and his brow knots. “I have an idea.”

Aventurine is always afraid.

This is a fact that has haunted you since the day you met him. You've wondered about how to fix it—the bare minimum as his mate (always his, even if he doesn't want you)—and you’ve never quite pinned down how. Because when someone has spent their life in perpetual fear, how do you make them feel safe? When their life is constantly at risk, how do you ever make them feel calm?

You still aren't sure of the answer. But after seeing Kakavasha become Aventurine, you now have a good guess.

It is clear from his scent that Aventurine does not feel remotely safe right now. Not when you leave to fetch something from your own room, and not when you return. The anxiety thickens when he sees, in your hands, a very familiar muzzle.

Aventurine stares. He is not smiling, but he also does not reveal his discomfort on his face, even as beads of sweat line his temple. But his voice is too controlled, too calm, when he asks, “You kept the mask.”

You nod.

“I told you to throw it out,” he points out, “when I freed you.”

“I know. Sorry. I don't know why I kept it.” You remember how tightly you clutched it before the incinerator, thinking about how strange it would feel, discarding something that you'd worn everyday since you presented—but you don't tell him this. Instead, you say, “But it’s convenient.”

Before Aventurine can say anything, you toss him the remote.

“You’re afraid of my bite and my Voice, but you don't have to be with this,” you explain. Your tone is gentle, soothing. Probably disarming coming from an alpha, with how he is in heat. Perhaps that's why he’s studying the remote rather than chucking it away. “You'll be in full control if I wear this.”

Control. Mere seconds after you say it, you can smell his fragrance change again, mellowing. It's only a brief moment of calm that fades when you latch the mask onto your face, but he doesn't smell as nearly as stressed before.

Aventurine watches you carefully as the carbon steel swallows your maw, its old and familiar edges biting into you. For the first time in years, you cannot tell what he is thinking—truly poker-faced even to you.

“You aren't bothered by wearing that thing while we do this,” he says—asks?—and you shake your head. The muzzle was part of you for years. You were wearing it when you killed someone for the first time. You were wearing it when you went into rut for the first time. You were wearing it when your master had sex with you for the first time. It doesn't bother you that you’ll wear it when you have sex with Aventurine.

If you could speak, you would ask him, Why do you think it would bother me? But all you do is gesture for him to sit up. To switch places with you. You lie down—something you've never done with an omega—and wait for him to get on top.

Aventurine stares at you for a long, quiet moment. It's followed by a sigh of relief. Disarmed, he—for the first time in any heat you've witnessed—finally relaxes. His scent wafts over you as he climbs between your legs, and you can feel the heat radiating from his hands as he parts your thighs, almost scalding.

He doesn't bother getting you ready, too needy to think rationally, but he doesn't have to anyway. You've been wet ever since you felt his mouth touch your wrist, hard ever since you heard him groan into it. You're equally desperate to get some relief as you feel his cockhead sliding against your opening, leaking all over your entrance as his slick drips onto your thighs. His breath shakes as he enters you, and he can't hear it with how you're muzzled—but you groan just as deeply as him at the tight stretch.

You hear him swear when you clench around him, watch him lean over you. His arms shake as he supports himself, refusing to succumb to his heat even as he chases his relief. You seek out his gaze (just as in your dreams, facing each other, intimate), and his neon eyes catch on your eyes for a brief, breathtaking second—

—before he looks away.

There's a flash of—you don't know what, maybe pain? Or fear?—in his irises as he does. A twitch of the brow, a tell he'd normally rather die than let slip. You have the realisation, as Aventurine moves inside you, that even while you're muzzled, even while he has complete control over you—he still can't stand having sex with you. Probably because he can't stand being in heat in general, you tell yourself. Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore. He'd have this reaction to anyone.

Still—you didn't expect him to have this reaction to you.

Your hands twitch, possessed by an old instinct to cover your eyes. But you'd probably scare Aventurine if you moved your arms, so all you do is dig your fingers into the sheets and squeeze them shut. You tell yourself again and again that he'd hate having sex with anyone in these circumstances—not just you. And then you tell yourself, as a desperate, broken moan leaves his branded throat, that he would also come inside anyone in these circumstances, caught within the cruel grip of his heat.

Aventurine stills inside you as he finishes. He pants, sweat dripping down his temple as he shudders in his ecstasy, his spend hot and thick inside you. You can feel his fever break as he comes down from his high, the heat coming off his body easing into a manageable warmth.

Do you feel better, you try to say, but you can't move your mouth while your mask is on. So you wait patiently for Aventurine to come back to himself, watching him carefully as he pulls out and rolls onto the mattress beside you. He finally glances at you then. His eyes narrow once they land on you, confusion flicking through them. Then displeasure. He reaches for the remote.

To your surprise, he immediately punches in the code to unlock your muzzle. Aventurine has apparently remembered the numbers after all these years, as if the moment he freed you has been since seared into his memory.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing you say, and Aventurine gives you a confused look. He’s still panting, dazed, so you ask, “Can I check your temperature?” And when he nods, you confirm your suspicion: he's still much too warm.

There is an ache between your legs and a strange hollow in your gut (because you aren't very experienced with receiving, you think—your body likely just isn't used to the feeling of it), but you quickly forget them. All you can think of is Aventurine, and how he’s still unwell, and how you need to comfort him. The instinct is so strong that you don't even say anything as you get up, straightening out your clothes.

“Are you leaving?” Aventurine asks. His voice is neutral, completely unbothered, but the thought is so horrific to you that you turn back to him with wide eyes.

“Of course not. I'm going to get you water and medicine.” A beat. You stare at Aventurine’s eyes, then think about how he hid them from you during sex. The hollow feeling comes back, but it's mostly eclipsed by your anxiety at the next thought: “...do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to?”

“I—” I'd rather die, you think. Being forced to leave him right now would feel like tearing out a piece of yourself. You don't know if there's an alpha in this world who could leave their mate in the middle of a heat. And even if he is unmarked, unattached to you—you still think of yourself as his mate. (His, always his, even if he doesn't want you.) “I would prefer not to. I am your heat partner. I'm supposed to take care of you.”

You hear a quiet breath. “Right. Of course. You're always so conscientious.” Aventurine nods, as if convincing himself of something. “Try not to take too long.”

“I’ll come back soon,” you promise, and the air sweetens. Encouraged, you add, voice gentle: “I’ll bring that medication, and then we can have sex as many times as you need after I come back. I'll make sure you're not in any pain anymore.” You pause, studying him. “Is there anything else you need to feel better?”

His fragrance changes once more, this time in a way you don't totally recognize. “No.” His voice sounds strange. His scent is still foreign, fluctuating, possibly hinting at some kind of pain. The heat must be getting to him again—and of course it wasn't enough, what you just did, what you can provide. He likely needs to be filled to get any kind of lasting relief, but you left him empty. “No, that's all I want.”

You nod, forcing yourself to look calm. Ignoring the emptiness in your gut. It didn't feel bad, but you hope it'll feel better next time you have sex. You think it will. Alphas are supposed to be filled with an insatiable lust near omegas in heat, after all. And even though you’ve never felt that before—never felt anything sleeping with all those omegas in your mistress’ house—you are sure you'll eventually feel it around Aventurine.

But the feeling never comes. Even though you can tell that his heat has returned by the time you're back—sweat beading his temples, laboured breaths at his lips, his bottoms now discarded, with full evidence of arousal between his legs—you don't feel much of anything as you reach for your mask again.

“Don't,” Aventurine says, before it can clasp around your face. You give him a curious look. He explains, “Don't. I don't want to have sex again. Not yet.”

You stare at him, shifting. Uncomfortable. Uncertain. Not knowing how he wants to use you. “What can I do?”

He gives you a long look. “Come here. I… I want your scent gland.”

It's a sensible request. If there's a way to seek relief without fucking someone—without fucking you, which he clearly hated doing—you're sure Aventurine would prefer it. So you climb into his nest, holding your wrist out for him, and—

“No.” His voice is quiet. “I want the one on your neck.”

“...oh.”

You stand there, not sure where to move. If he wants you in his nest again, or if he’d rather do this standing. You’re relieved when he demands, “Lie down.”

You expect him to get on top of you when you do. Assume that he wants complete control—but he instead lies down beside you. Presses his body into yours, and then his face into your neck. His nose and lips brush against your scent gland, a full-body shudder running through him, and—

—and now you know for a fact that it is a lie that alphas want nothing other than to fuck an omega when they're in heat. Because even like this, with his lips sweet on your neck, with the sheets soaked with his slick, with his spend leaking out of you—you do not want to have sex with Aventurine. You only want to hold him. You only want him to keep scenting you. You only want to scent him back.

You only want him to feel safe.

You breathe in deeply, lungs flooded by honey. You think of what it felt like to hold him in that cold basement, when he was delirious with fever and pain, and you think about how different his scent is now. How much sweeter it is. How much calmer he feels.

“Do you feel better?” you ask, and he doesn't respond, but you know the answer. His hands come up to dig into your shirt, and he presses into you like you're a sweater in his nest. Silence blankets over you both, calm and warm. His laboured breath starts to improve.

He does eventually speak.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he says, “what you smell like?”

You stare at him. Your master used to say that you smelled good, but he'd never elaborated, and you hadn't wanted him to. “No.”

Aventurine breathes in.

“You smell like—” A little sigh, shaking and feverish, leaves him. “You smell like rain.”

Your eyebrows tick up. “Rain?”

“Yes. Or not just rain, but”—he pauses, next words quiet—“more Iike after it rains. You smell like the desert after a rainfall.”

“Oh.” You don't know what to say to that. Feeling distinctly like it's a silly question, you ask, “Is that a good scent?”

“Some would think so. Especially to people from the desert. You probably smell like a blessing to them. Although…”

Aventurine goes quiet again. You stare at the chandelier above you, all crystal and white gold, and wait.

“Although?” you prompt.

“...although I wouldn't really know,” he says. “It’s just a hunch. I bet it's why so many omegas on this planet like you.”

You couldn't care less about those other omegas. All you care about is Aventurine. “And?” you say. “Do you like my scent?”

His reply never comes. He just breathes deeply again, seeking relief from your neck—not intimacy. Any alpha’s scent would work; that doctor told you so. Any alpha’s touch would work, too. There are no special feelings involved here. Your place in the world is one of a tool, and tools are never especially liked nor disliked. Their value exists only in how they can be used.

You don't know why you even bothered to ask the question.

But then something strange happens: Aventurine curls against you, pressing even further into you. His lashes flutter against your pulse again; it ticks up in response, beating fast against his lips.

“I do,” he says quietly. “I do like it.”

You swallow. “But I guess that's because you're in heat. Any alpha would smell good to you, wouldn’t they?”

“No.” His fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt. “No, I like it because it's yours.”

You know better than to read too much into his response. Aventurine had already said it earlier: No foreign scents. He's only tolerating this whole arrangement because you don't smell unfamiliar to him. Only able to use you because you are the least threatening option.

But the words break something in you—break the thing that made you unable to throw out that little pouch of copper coins that you were saving up for Kakavasha’s freedom, the part of you that made you wear that carbon-steel mask for him. It is this part of you that has your eyes squeezing shut and your arms wrapping around him. You know he’ll recoil, reject you, but just this once—you need to try.

Aventurine doesn't push you away.

He melts into you instead, inhaling deeply. Your scent gland tingles with the warmth of his breath, the feeling of his lips. He seems—comfortable.

You can't fathom why he’s staying in your arms. Perhaps he's simply desperate for some kind of relief from his heat, just like when you held him in the basement while he was delirious from pain. But Aventurine had spoken to you with clarity just now, and his skin doesn't feel scalding so much as warm, and his scent is so different than from that moment. So sweet and so gentle, without a trace of fear. It makes your heart squeeze. As much as you've always wanted Aventurine to feel safe, you'd never imagined that his scent would be so beautiful when he is.

It makes your heart ache. You've never held anything so lovely before, and you’ve never felt so warm before, and it all makes up for how badly it hurt to let Aventurine inside you. How hollow it made you feel to let him use you. How none of that matters as long as you can keep him safe like this, because you belong to Kakavasha. You'll always belong to Kakavasha, in a fate that was chosen for you on the day you met him.

You're his, always his—even if he’ll never want you.

end part i

thank you so much to lore for hosting a fantastic collab and to my sponsors who funded this fic and got it over the finish line! please go check out @ficsforgaza to find other amazing hsr writers you can sponsor in order to help fundraise! here is my own wip list, if you are interested in seeing more from me!

and thank you most of all to YOU! I appreciate you so much for reading this chapter. thank you so much for sticking it through.

additional end notes

[via-l0ve]

Dating Carlisle Cullen HCs!

a/n: was the requested? absolutely not. am i a slut for daddy cullen? abso-fuckin-lutley

warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, im lowkey an edward hater in this i’m sorry, smut is fem!reader based!! dating daddy carlisle

- when you guys hang out at night /alone he’s all over you

- he holds you, lays on your chest, plays with your hair while you sit inbetween his legs SHSSUWHEISN

- he plays with your fingers while you guys are around other people and he gets a little nervous

- like if your hanging out with friends he’ll play with your fingers and hands, twist around your bracelets and rings

- i love him he’s so soft

- he desperately tries to stop you from popping pimples and blackheads

- “y/n sTOP”

- sometimes you’ll laugh at stuff he says bc it sounds so old fashioned

- he attempts to make you food and most of the time it’s amazing but usually when you two cook it almost always ends up burnt or undercooked or missing an ingredient

- bc he gets distracted by your stupid jokes that sometimes result in a food fight

- carlisle would do anything for you

- literally one time you brought up wanting to go to disneyland because they do a mardi gras parade and he almost bought plane tickets right then and there

- “what’re you doing?”

- “buying plane tickets.”

- “what??? STOP-“

- he loves how you hate when he spends money on you

- it makes him want to do it more

- you both have multiple matching things

- bracelets, rings, necklaces, etc

- he bought you this EXPENSIVE bracelet once and you almost passed out on the spot

- it has your and carlisle’s initials engraved into it and it’s your favorite color

- he lets you paint his nails frequently

- he loves when you do little designs on them too

- he loves being the person you feel comfortable ranting to

- it breaks his heart when he opens his door and sees you with puffy eyes and a red nose, tears reminiscent on your face

- he lets you in and picks you up, speeding you to his bedroom

- he grabs you a big t-shirt and a pair of his boxers and tells you to shower or change before talking about it

- and then after that he does whatever you want

- sometimes he’ll comb your hair while you rant to him, or make you some tea on the kitchen island while you talk to him about what happened

- he’d totally sit you on the counter and cut up + feed you fruit and clean the juice from your chin. im sobbing

- 100% takes care of your stuffed animals

- he would love how you bond with his “kids”

- you and emmett would totally play horror games together

- emmett and you are this clip:

https://youtube.com/clip/UgkxJdszrIKDCtmfnyVLdhVwf2sGqLcJ6NBU

- honestly either of you could be rhett/link and it would still make sense

- you lowkey make fun of edward ngl

- i feel like he plays games with you and emmett too and he sucks ass

- carlisle looses his shit when he hears you make a gooddamn good roast of him and you can hear him laughing from upstairs

- alice constantly tries to buy you clothes she thinks not only you, but also carlisle would like

- Rosalie would confide in you a lot

- tbh it took her a hot minute to warm up to you but when she saw how happy carlisle was with you she gave you a chance

- jasper loves you tbh

- he games w/ u and emmett and you guys kick ass in rocket league

- sometimes Carlisle will just stare at you for no reason

- you’ll catch him and he won’t break eye contact and you get all flustered and look away

- and proceed to look back to see him still staring

- “what’re you looking at?”

- “just you. :)”

- “okay but why”

- “youre beautiful.”

- “get a room!” ~ emmett

- reminds your to take ur medication

- after meeting your family, he’s always down to babysit with you or go to family reunions or vacations

- if it’s a sunny place he’ll just busy himself with work inside

- always liking ur instagram posts

- he always comments on them too

- just a simple “i love you” or “gorgeous🩷”

——— smut time

- respect and consent king

- wouldn’t dream of hurting you/degrading you ever

- he loves tits. sorry not sorry it’s true

- he’ll play w/ ur nipples and leave hickeys on ur boobs

- fucking looses it when you moan his name

- like, if you do that he’s giving you literally everything he has

- his fav position is missionary or when you ride him but you face him

- specifically if he’s sitting in his office chair and you get ontop of him and-

- makes your legs SHAKE

- he has his hands on your hips while you ride him bc that’s hot

- literally adores your body

- he couldn’t care less of your stomach pokes out or if you have love handles or stretch marks

- he loves you for you

- PRAISE

- this man loves to make you blush and he knows exactly how to do it in bed

- master at giving you head

- literally knows exactly what to do and how you like it done

- fucking dies when you ride his face

- like it’s not a thing that he wants he NEEDS it

- he pays attention to your body movements and how you react to certain things

- he’s the typa guy to get on his knees and eat you out

- tongue around ur clit and fingers inside you pumping in and out and moving around inside to touch your g-spot

[yanderefarm]

.......imagine combining potatoing and the limited amount of words idea, cocksleeves dont need to talk after all :)

that lends so well into my love of making potatos dumber. like going from fully articulated man to a soft little thing that squirms and whines instead of using his words.

this became a whole thing. so enjoy you filthy animals. /lh

cw;; nsft, dead dove, amputation, electrocution, torture, unsanitary

i like that with achilles especially because for him this is the ultimate fantasy the best scenario in his world. completely dependent on you because you chose to take away his autonomy. but he still talks like he's a respectful member of society and not like he's a glorified cock sleeve, its not acceptable.

he also gets to ease into it, starting him with a good amount of words and slowly lowering it. but it gets even lower than noemie did because he doesn't even need to say pleasantries. good morning, good night, hello, its unnecessary. he needs to say yes, please, im sorry, and thank you and that's it. if he tries to waste his words on stupid things like no or stop he's going to end up punished in two ways.

it's fun to show off to your followers the sight of him using up his words. it's just a normal stream, you're playing games and in your lap is your cute little toy. everyone knows your cock is currently buried in your human onahole but you're not bouncing him or even moving, just letting him sit on your lap. someone asks how many words he has left today and so you check. it looks like he's been conservative today and he has about 10 left. so it's time to waste those precious words of your dumb toy. you make him look at the chat and people can pay for him to say things, of course you don't want them to use up all ten in one go so it's limited. the fun of watching him slowly fuck himself over begins.

"how are you doing today, pet?"

he blinks his pretty eyes and swallows.

"uhmm good..?"

"are you having fun?"

"yes!"

"what are you doing right now?"

you give him a good thrust to remind him. he gasps and whimpers with saliva dripping out of his mouth.

"mm.. t-taking master's co-cock."

that's 5.

"do you love your master?"

"yes!!"

"are you happy to be a fuck toy?"

"yes!!"

"do you ever regret losing your limbs?"

he looks back at you as best he can with a pout.

"you can say no this time." you assure him.

"no! i don't!"

that's the other 5.

"how many words do you have left?"

he blinks in confusion like he doesn't know what game you've all been playing.

"10."

that was the very last word. so you press him against your desk and push your cock even deeper into him. everyone is watching you remind him, everyone can see him and they know he's a sex toy.

"tell them thank you."

he's struggling with your cock now slamming into him making his entire body shake.

"tell them thank you." you say more sternly directing his slutty face to the camera.

"th-thank-"

the word barely leaves his mouth and he screams as the electricity buzzes through his body. that also earns him a hard slap on the ass.

"are you an ungrateful bitch? you need to be a good boy and say thank you properly."

"th-thank yyyYOUUU-"

another slap to accompany the shocks.

"thank you for watching this useless cock sleeve."

"ca-caaant-"

he's crying now as you continue to punish him along with the painful shocks. your relentless pounding of his tight hole doesn't stop either it's an overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure.

you pull him all the way onto your cock and sit back in your chair.

"tell me you can't again. see what happens."

"sowwy"

his voice is hoarse as his entire body twitches and writhes with the pain.

"now say it."

"tha-thank y-" a scream. "you fffforr-" more sobbing. "waaaaaatchingggggahh-" his body slumped forward but you pulled him back. "th-thisssss u-" his head fell against your shoulder as his body arched away from the pain. "useless-" he was flailing to get away from it. "co-coooock sleeeeeeeeveee-"

you watched as the poor toy couldn't help but release his bladder all over his stubby thighs and your lap.

"oh no... i think achilles wants to be punished even more."

[luvlunajpg]

Insecurities

♡ pairing: johnnie x Plus size female reader

♡ summary: You caught johnnie doing something unexpected which ends up in losing your virginity

♡ classification: fluff and smut

♥︎ anon note: hey guys! Luna here ( ^ω^ )

This fanfic was requested by a fellow reader from my previous fanfic. This was a challenge for me as insecurities comes in many forms and i fear that i would trigger any of my beautiful johnnie girlies out there :( . I sincerely apologise if there is any part of the story triggered you or made you feel like its not accurate to what body insecurities actually feels like. Some people go through insecurities differently and i really want you to know that no matter how different we are, everyone is beautiful periodt. I love you guys so much! Thank you for the love and support on my previous fanfic.

XOXO Luna ♥︎

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆.✧˚ ༘˚⋆ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆

You and Johnnie have been dating for awhile and today just happens to be your anniversary with him. Since Johnnie is busy streaming, you suggest that the both of you to stay at home to watch movies and cuddle the whole night. You and johnnie were never the kind of couple to celebrate publicly. Both of you prefer to just spend time with eachother at home where you and johnnie can have more privacy.

You prepare the blankets, pillows and picked up the delivered food at your doorstep. After preparing for the night you giggled at the set up and took a picture to post it on social media. After admiring your efforts, you head over to Johnnie’s office to peek on his progress on the livestream. As you were few steps closer to his office, your heart immediately sank hearing your boyfriends moans and groans through the door. Your brain was flooded with all kinds of scenarios. Was he lying? What is he doing? Is he facetiming another girl? Why is he moaning like that? Why would he do that during a livestream?

You spare no time and immediately slammed the door open. Johnnie gasped and threw his phone across the room and tries his best to hide his boner. You were in tears, your heart broke into a million pieces, you couldn’t stop sobbing and soon enough you fell to your knees in front of him.

“Noo.. baby please.. i’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ johnnie got cut off by sharp slap across his face

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WOULD CHEAT ON ME ON OUR ANNIVERSARY JOHNNIE HOW COULD YOU!” You cried to your hands feeling your heart crumble even more hearing him apologise. Johnnie sigh and grab his phone to show you a picture of yourself in a skirt and heart garter suspenders. That picture was posted this morning as you just put that outfit together for an upcoming concert next week.

“I was masturbating ok… Im sorry Y/N you look so hot in that outfit i couldn’t help myself. I know how you feel towards sex and i respect that but i just can’t help myself. I’m- i’m so sorry Y/N..” johnnie sighs in disappointment.

He cups your face before breaking down into tears, leaving you more heartbroken than before. You’ve always told Johnnie how insecure you are with your body which made you never want to lose your virginity anytime soon. You have always been on the plus size side ever since High school, you have never had a boyfriend and Johnnie just so happens to love you just the way you are. But you were not ready because you were afraid of the way Johnnie would see you afterwards. You have zero experience in sex and you’re also insecure on how you would look like during sex. After seeing your boyfriend sob on your thighs, you start to realise how Johnnie is more than perfect to be the one to be your first. He has been accepting your flaws since day one and still continue to accept it until now.

“Johnnie.. i’m ready.” You lift johnnie’s head to meet his teary blue eyes.

“No baby please, i don’t want to force you. I want you to be sincerely ready.” Johnnie shook his head and holds your hand tight.

“I would never want to lose it to anyone else Johnnie Guilbert. I want you to be my first.” You smiled at him to assure him that you really wanted this. Johnnie pecks your forehead and tells you to get yourself ready so that you are more comfortable. You nodded in response before heading out to shave, shower and wear an outfit that was meant for Johnnie only. A black bra and the same miniskirt and garter suspenders that was in the post. After looking at yourself in the mirror for one last time you head to you and Johnnie’s shared bedroom only to see the room being dim and a few rose petals sprinkled on the bed.

“You like it..? I want it to be more romantic for us.” Johnnie asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you from the back. You turned around and kissed Johnnie on the lips feeling his lip ring brushing against your lips

“Its perfect my love” you stroke Johnnie’s cheeks as he admires your outfit. He bit his lips admiring you from head to toe as he lightly pushes you on the bed. He strips himself leaving him with only his boxers and continue to kiss you passionately. Your tongues are wrestling in eachothers mouth as Johnnie unclasp your bra exposing your nipple piercing

“Holy fuck Y/N…” johnnie groans as that is his first time seeing them. You immediately got embarrassed and covered your boobs, feeling your face heat up every second. “Hey baby.. its okay. They’re so beautiful. Can’t wait to feel them against my tongue” Johnnie assures as he slowly removes your hands pinning them above your head as he licks the tip of your nipples gently before swirling them around in his mouth. You were a moaning mess, it felt so good you threw your head back on the bed. Johnnie moves on from your nipples and leaves a trail of kisses from your chest all the way to your belly. He removes every last bit of your clothing leaving you naked infront of him, johnnie steps back abit to see his beautiful naked girlfriend laying down infront of him. You felt your insecurities rising from the tip of your toes to the roots of your hair, you immediately sit up and covered your body as your face turns red again.

Johnnie smiles in awe as he removes your hands from your body kissing every part he touches.

“Baby you’re so beautiful… don’t cover up. I love you so so much, the wait was so worth it my love” johnnie says as he leaves kisses from your face all the way to your entrance.

He licks his lips before dragging his tongue on your entrance causing you to moan and grip onto his hair. Johnnie smoothly licks your folds as his thumb massages your clit leaving you a moaning mess under his touch. As you grew wetter, johnnie removes his boxers pressing his hard length against your wetness. He gives you a peck on the nose before pushing himself slowly into you causing you to groan as you feel your walls stretch around his dick. Johnnie gives you time to adjust as he never stops giving you kisses on your neck and face, he holds your hand tight to give you more support. You nodded to assure him to continue, johnnie nods back in response thrusting slowly in and out of you leaving him a groaning mess.

“Fuck! Y/n you’re so tight” Johnnie moaned out as his thrusts are getting faster and harder, but not hard enough for you to feel pain. You were moaning against johnnie’s chest as you feel yourself coming close.

“Fuck johnnie! I’m going to-“ your sentence got cut off as you squeal and cum all over Johnnie’s big length. Seconds later Johnnie pulls out and cum all over the bedsheet as he rolls his eyes to the back before plopping himself down onto the empty spot beside you. After the both of you catch your breaths you wrap your arms around johnnie’s chest cuddling into his skin.

“happy anniversary my beautiful queen” johnnie says as he kisses your head before heading to sleep with you.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆.✧˚ ༘˚⋆ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

[kyokutsu-sama]

omg, this was a random thought that popped into my head😭william with an s/o, who during her period, gets the WORST anger issues? im talking she gets annoyed if someone breathes wrong😭how would he react to her random sobbing and extreme clinginess during all that? thank you!!!

A/n: Hi!!! When I read the request I just find it funny cause this is so me when I'm on my period😭🤭 I hope you like it.

I really felt sorry for William after writing this one😭

_____________________________

As we all know, William is a very kind and very patient man. It's almost impossible to get this man out of his peaceful state (unless it's something really bad). He begins to notice that for a few days now, she has been acting strangely towards him and everyone in the room. She who used to be as respected as the captain and so nice to everyone, was now shouting at everyone and without any patience. William already suspected that she was going through that typical monthly phase where she just wanted everyone to disappear but at the same time would cry if that happened. He decided not to confront her with that, out of fear, since she was looking like a wild animal on the loose. He couldn't help but stare at her when she was acting like that, towards someone from Golden Dawn. He even tried to get closer to her to interfere but when he saw her looking at him with that dark look, he hesitated. "WHAT'S WRONG WILLIAM? WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME? DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL ME?!" She shouted at him The captain just stood there, with wide eyes and an expression like "Honey... I was just passing by... I didn't do anything wrong🥲" It was then that some of the members reported situations like this to him. "Captain, with all due respect but she's going crazy! Everyone in the division is shaking because of the way she's yelling at everyone and looking like she's going to kill someone!!"Klaus said, completely terrified, to the captain who assured him that he would solve everything She spent the whole day walking here and there, hurriedly, while doing her duties within the division, keeping an ill-tempered look on her face, which made the members of the division afraid to approach her, since even breathing seemed like a problem for her. That attitudes, created small murmurs among the members in the corridors of the HQ, wondering what could have made her like that. At the end of the day, she used to go to William to see each other, as they rarely saw each other during the day because of work, but that day it was he who went to see her, especially after she shouted at him and avoided him when he tried to interfere when he saw her scolding another member when he dropped some papers on the floor that were for the captain. William slowly opened the bedroom door, peeking inside and saw her sitting on the bed, with her knees to her chest and crying. A scene that broke his heart. William approached and she quickly threw herself at him, hugging him tightly and he held her, caressing her back with his hands, while she sobbed. He sat with her on his lap, listening to her lament for being so mean to him and others. "I'm sorry for yelling at you William, I'm really an idiot, I'm horrible and I don't deserve you..." She sobbed, clutching the fabric of his uniform "Don't say those things, my love. You're important and I really like you and so does everyone here, do you hear? I love you so much." He whispered, wiping her tears while she was still there, clinging to him and apologizing He always stayed by her side while she calmed down, he couldn't help but smile when she gave him a load of kisses and hugs. He thought she was cute even when she was mad, although the sudden change in mood was still leaving him a little confused. "William, will you forgive me?" She asked for the thousandth time "Yes, I forgive you," He sighed. "I know this time of the month makes you more sensitive and ...a little angrier but it's normal and I'm always here, whenever you need me, okay?" He moved her hair away from her face, kissing her forehead "Oh Will, you're so cute I think I'm going to cry again..." She said in a tearful voice and he chuckled "You don't need to cry anymore. I'm always here." He gave her a peck and hugged her This man is a sweetheart❤️

[marksmelodies]

step by step, little by little

bf jaemin x fem reader

genre: angst,fluff, smut

warnings: mentions of abuse, cussing, mentions of sex, sex, minors dni

tw: this story contains mentions of an abusive relationship pls do not interact if this is triggering!

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you and jaemin had been dating for almost a year now,after lots of persuasion you finally allowed him to take you on a date which led to your relationship with each other,not much has changed since then, you never let anything get passed a simple make out session which you couldn’t ever truly reciprocate for the longest time.it’s not that you didn’t like jaemin, you very much did, but your past relationship left you scarred. jaemin was very respectful about it, you had been friends for years before you started dating and he knew about the trauma from your ex.of course jaemin wanted to go further with you, it was in his nature you couldn’t blame him, even though he never blatantly said it you could tell when he was sexually frustrated, all the times you two cuddled and made out you knew that when it was over he would go to bathroom and deal with himself. you felt awful, you wanted nothing more than to have that intimacy with him but you struggled you knew jaemin was a good man, he had been your best friend for so long. yet so was your ex, he was a good man until he wasn’t, it was like a switch would go on and off, some days were good days with him and some days were bad. even though you knew it would never you were scared that the same thing would happen with jaemin.

the moment you really began to tear down the wall you had built between you and jaemin was when jaemin would drink alcohol you would get extremely paranoid getting flashbacks of how your ex treated you when he was drunk. Eventually you opened up to jaemin about it, jaemin quit drinking for you, not that he drank a lot but when he went out with his friends he’d opt for a soda instead of alcohol, you of course never asked him to do that but he wanted to do it for you. he would do anything for you.

you first told jaemin about you past when he would find you with bruises around your face and wrists sometimes he’d notice your black eye underneath all the makeup you used to cover it, he demanded you tell him what’s going on, so you did. you’ve never seen jaemin so mad in your entire life, he knew your ex, he knew how much of an asshole he was, but what he didn’t know was that he was laying his hands on you. that night you had to talk jaemin out of murder

“ i swear to god y/n im going to fucking kill him” jaemin yelled as he paced around the room.

he tried to convince you so many times to leave him, it’s not like you didn’t want to leave but you were petrified to, you were trapped and for some reason you continued to love him until it almost costed you your life.

one night your ex came home drunk, he had figured out that you still had been talking to jaemin after insisting you never speak to him again, he lost control as he hit and kicked you leaving you gasping for air, he choked you leaving bruises and scratches on your neck, with you going in and out of consciousness. you thankfully escaped, calling the police, none of your injuries were severe enough for legal action to take place all they could do was issue a no contact order between the two of you which left you furious.

that night you went to jaemins place and sobbed the entire time, he held his questions until the morning. just simply being there for you when you needed him the most. that was the last time you ever saw your ex, jaemin insisted you go to therapy, which has turned out to help a lot more than you thought it would.

if it weren’t for jaemin you don’t know where you would be today.

“ morning baby” jaemin walks into the kitchen where you stood making coffee,he wrapped his arms around you as you stood there for a second before initiating it back

“ i heard your therapist mention you decided yesterday was your last session?” he asks

“ yeah i feel like i’m really improving”

“ that’s really good babe but i feel like you should still go to sessions i don’t think it’s a good idea to just stop going all together”

“ jaemin i’m an adult if i think i’m doing better than i’m doing better” you raise a slight attitude at him

“ i’m just trying to help, even if you’re doing better what if you get bad again, i just don’t want to see you suffer” he huffs in frustration

“ jaemin i don’t think your listening to me”you raise your voice he tries to reach over you in attempt to grab a coffee mug out of the cabinet right above you ,quickly without thinking you flinch squeezing your eyes shut, holding out your hands in front of you in defense

jaemin immediately pulls his hand back in a quick motion.the room goes silence as if you could hear a pin drop

“d-did you think i was going to hit you” jaemin says softly as his voice breaks,you look up at him with tears in your eyes

“ baby i was just getting a cup out of the cabinet”

“ i’m sorry” you whisper, jaemin feels his heart breaking for you

“ come sit down with me” he says leading you to the couch

“ y/n look at me”

“ i would never ever lay a hand on you like that, do you understand” he says sternly

“ i know jaemin im sorry” you cry,jaemin hugs you as he rubs your back

“ listen baby i know you may feel like you’re completely healed and maybe you are, that’s amazing but i notice the little hesitation you have when i hug you or kiss you, and with what just happened in the kitchen, i think staying in therapy is important, you don’t have to listen to me, i just want to see you as the best version of yourself that you can be, i love you so much baby” and with that you lean towards him planting a soft kiss on his lips.

“ i love you jaemin” this was the first time you told him this, jaemin had told you he loved you for the first time a while ago, he respected your decision not to say it back until you were ready. but he reminded you everyday that he loved you even if it was just him who said it. jaemins eyes lit up as he smiled ear to ear hearing your confession “ i love you so so much y/n”slowly he moved forward giving you another kiss this time it was more passionate but still slow

you finally realize the key to letting yourself go with him was reminding yourself that this is jaemin and jaemin is not like your ex and he never will be.

moving your arms around his shoulders you snake your hand through his hair, deepening the kiss. moving yourself closer you feel everything you ever worried about go out the window, fully putting your trust into him, knowing you are safe. jaemin topples over you laying you on your back not breaking the kiss, you can feel his boner poking you through his pants.

he immediately pulls back frantically “ i’m so sorry i took it too far” he says about to get up as you drag his hand back down causing him to fall back down onto you, you grab his face kissing him once again

“ i’m ready jaemin”

he looks at you with scrunched brows “ are you sure y/n, we don’t have to do this, i can go take care of myself in the bathroom really quick i don’t mind”

“ no really i want to, i’m ready, i want you babe, i want all of you” you say kissing his lips,his heart flutters at the nickname you called him

“ mm i like when you call me that” he picks you up walking you to the bedroom gently laying you down on the bed

“ y/n are you one hundred percent sure this is what you want, i swear i’m totally okay with not going this far if your not ready”

“ i’ve never wanted anything more right now please jaemin” you whine

“ okay sweetheart, i’ll be gentle with you i promise” he places a kiss on your nose

jaemin takes his shirt off throwing it across the room, moving to you he asks permission to take off your shirt, you nod in approval “ baby use your words yes or no”

“ yes” you say looking at him so innocently,he takes off your shirt, proceeding to ask permission with every single article of clothing before removing it from your body.

“ can i eat you out” he whispers towering about you

“ um, yeah if you want, you don’t have to” you say nervously

“ of course i want to baby, i want to make you feel good but only if you want that too ”

“okay, i mean i do want that, its just i’ve never gotten head before”

“ you’re joking’ jaemin stares at you straight faced, you shake your head

“ you’ve never been eaten out before?”

“ive never even had an orgasm”

jaemin backs away from you for a moment

“ sweetheart, you’ve had sex before right?”

“ yes”

“ and he never made you cum, not once?”

“ no”

“ he never gave you head?”

“ nope”

“did you give him head?” he asked out of curiosity

“yeah”

“ oh my god, what a fucking asshole, i’m going to make it up to you babygirl, tonight is all about you my love”

jaemin kisses your lips trailing them down your body stopping at your nipples, wrapping his lips around one of your boobs he sucks on it while his other hand toys with the other one, he shows both of your titties equal attention, you moan as you feel things you’ve never felt before, leaving silvia on your nipples he continues down your body as he reaches your heat. pushing both of you legs up to gain access to your inner thighs jaemin leaves soft kisses on each leg moving closer and closer to your pussy.

“ if you want me to stop i will stop” he looks at you

“ no baby please i need you” you whine at him

he gently spreads your legs a little further before leaving soft kisses on your pussy. licking up and down your heat, he slightly sucks on your clit, flicking his tongue against your pussy. you’re a squirming mess for him, you never felt this good in your entire life

“ jaemin how will i know when i’m cumming” you ask while moans escape your mouth

he chuckles at your innocents

“ don’t worry darling you’ll know” he hums against your pussy causing you to lift your hips up,jaemin gently grabs your hips placing you back flat on the bed, his movements speed up faster and faster as your moans grow louder , jaemin could cum in his pants at the thought of you experiencing your first orgasm on his tongue.

“oh my god fuck jaemin” you screamed as your head fell back feeling a knot form in your stomach

jaemin gave it his all knowing you’re about to cum just by the reaction you were giving him, mouth sloppy eating you out as fast as he can his nose hitting your clit followed by his tongue kitty licking your swollen bud, jaemin then takes his two fingers circling them around your clit as he fucks his tongue into your hole, you let our the most pornagraphic moan as your legs tighten around jaemins head while they shake uncontrollably ,he lets you ride out your orgasm as you subconsciously grind your pussy onto his face

“ oh my god jaemin that was the best thing i’ve ever experienced” you say clearly fucked out already

jaemin moves from in between your legs to now towering over you again, kissing you as you taste yourself

“ you taste so good babygirl” he says as he kisses your neck slightly sucking on it leaving light marks

“ you wanna keep going?” he asks

“ yes baby please i need you inside of me”

jaemin attaches his lips back onto yours passionately as his tongue lips into your mouth

“ fuck i don’t have condoms” he says getting off of you

“ where are you going”

“ i’m gonna run to the convenience store really quick and grab condoms” he says grabbing his pants

“ babe just go raw” you suggest,he whips his head around facing you

“ are you sure”

“ yes jaem just get back over here” you whine, he gets back on top of you playing with his dick a little bit before lining it up with you

“ you ready baby”

“ mhm”

he pushes into you causing you both to let out moans,jaemin knew his fate considering the fact that he hasn’t had sex in so long, he was hitting it raw, and you were tight as fuck, he knew he wasn’t lasting long at all, he slowly moves back in forth getting you used to his size “ fuck your so tight” he says thrusting the tiniest bit faster, you accidentally tighten around him without realizing “ fuck baby don’t do that i’ll cum right now” he winces

“ jaemin faster” you plead

“ baby if i go any faster i’ll cum” he warns

“ i don’t care, please baby move faster” jaemin pushes both of your legs to your chest as he roughly thrusts in and out

“ fuck babe i’m cumming where do you want it” he pants

“ cum inside me” you say, he looks at you dead in the eyes “ are you positive”

“ yes jaemin please”

a few more sloppy thrusts and jaemin spills his warm seed into you,he stays inside you for a moment, laying his body on yours

“ i’m sorry i finished so fast, i promise i don’t usually, i just haven’t done it in so long, and i’ve never hit it raw before” he rambles you laugh at his words “ baby we can go for another round if you want, i don’t mind if you cum fast, shit i did too” your words make him feel better

“ honestly i take it as a compliment” you smile kissing his lips

“ god you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this baby” he lays his head on your chest as you play with his hair

“ so about round two” he smerks at you

“ let’s see how many rounds we can go for tonight and tomorrow we can get a morning after pill” you suggest

“ oh my love i don’t think you realized what you just signed yourself up for” and with that you and jaemin marked another stepping stone in your relationship,step by step he was healing your interpretation of love.

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thank you for reading i hope you enjoyed!! much love <3

[divinesolas]

Heyy, would you write something with aemond, perhaps an arranged marriage and struggling conceiving… feel free to ignore

"still nothing?"

you felt like a kicked puppy. sitting in a chair looking down at your lap while alicent talked with her son, your husband.

You were from a minor house from the north, stripped from your home and taken down south to marry the prince in the hopes to secure a more friendly relationship between the south and north.

you were however failing the one job you were given. you felt sick to your stomach.

when you first met aemond you felt like you had won the greatest prize, thanking whatever gods we're listening for giving you such a blessing. He was kind, much kinder than any other man had been. he treated you with respect and even made sure you were taken care of in the bedroom.

something that still irked you about him was that you couldn't tell if he genuinely liked you. sure his actions were kind but he never really spoke to you. seven hells he never even kisses you.

he was a very strange man but you grew to love him all the same. it had been a couple months since the two of you had been married and were still unable to conceive.

aemond shook his head and alicent sighed, rubbing her temples before turning back to you. you would normally apologize but today you feel so embarrassed about it.

"you're dismissing dear."

you stand and silently make your way towards the door and exit. this was humiliating, what was wrong with you? why couldn't you just do this one thing? you didn't look at aemonds expression and you didn't want to, expecting to see disappointment and anger.

you didn't even notice you had left your notebook in alicents room, you had to go fetch you. as much as you didn't want to go back in there you needed to get your notebook so you quickly turn around to go get it.

once you reach the door you lift your hand to knock but freeze at the conversation inside.

"it has been months aemond! aegon and heleana had there children swiftly after marriage yet this one is not happening." there is silence and alicent sigh in anger at aemonds quietness.

"maybe its time we consider other options aemond. shes clearly not producing any heirs and the royal line must continue."

You stumble back with tears in your eyes. No you couldn't lose aemond. you gulp, why? why were you so useless that you couldnt do this one thing? his silence is everything. you rush away quickly to your room., ignore the odd stares from the maids.

you hide yourself under the covers of your bed and allow yourself to cry.

The day passes and the sun sets while you rot in bed. the door opens and your eyes shoot open. hes too early. its much too early in the day despite it being night for him to be returning now.

you pray he doesn't come over to you. you can hear his footsteps suddenly pause for a moment and you hold your breath. he lets out a sigh and his footsteps move closer to you.

youre frozen. he suddenly rips the sheet off of you and you shriek, burying your head into the pillow. "my lady..." his words are soft, in a pleading tone which tugs at your heart.

"my prince." you mumble into the pillow, not wanting to face him. he sighs once more and places a hand on your back.

"are you feeling well? you did not attend dinner." ah dinner was it really that late? you two always had dinner together. he must have come looking once you didnt show.

"im sorry my prince, i lost track of time."

he notes you dont answer his question, "my lady, if something is bothering you please tell me."

your eyes well up with tears again, why did he have to be so sweet? you suddenly sit up, a sudden rush of emotions floods you.

"please do not find another lady."

he gives you a bewildered look, "whatever are you talking about my lady."

you looks down as the tears begin to flow heavily, "im sorry i haven't conceived yet. please just allow me to try again, i can i promise please do not find somebody else to do it."

You let out a sob as you finish, you loved him so much you did not want him to go looking for someone else.

he places a hand on you chin and forces you to look up at him.

"i would never do such a think. i do not know where you got such an absurd idea from but it shall never happen, you are my wife. i am with you till death do us part."

you sniffle, "but the queen had suggested-"

he lets out a sigh and shakes his head, "is that what this is about?" you quickly shut up and sighs again.

"she had suggested it when you had left yes. but i had told her no. you are my wife."

"but what if i am unable to-"

"it does not matter."

"but the queen..."

he looks you in the eyes and you feel yourself melt in the warmth. "there is nobody else other than you. and there shall never be."

he kisses you. it had been the first time since your wedding he had kisses you and you never felt happier.

once he pulled away he rested his forehead onto yours. "it shall always be you."

he pulls away and gives you a smile, "plus it has only been a few months since he have married, there are still plenty more opportunities for you to get pregnant."

safe to say, it wasnt long since after the doctors confirmed you were indeed pregnant.

[unknownperson246]

I might have an idea for a Duff fic. He finds out that the reader’s the vampire but isn’t freaked out about it. In fact, he finds it very sexy and asks to be bitten. You can do as you wish with that idea. 😏

Bloodless

words: 994

warnings: *smut* *alcohol* *dirty talk* *female vampire* *mentions of blood* *fluff at the end*

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

You are sitting on the couch with Duff. You and he met a few weeks ago when you were finding people to suck blood out of. You wanted to suck them of the most vital thing in their body. You wanted Duff to be your victim that's why you brought him over. Your heart kept wanting to hurt him but the more you got to know him he was an innocent man who was very kind and you didn't want to take his life away from him. You found out he did care about you and that you weren't just some one-night stand. He found out that you were a vampire and he seemed turned on by it that’s how you guys fucked because he didnt mind the idea of being bitten. He found it very sexy to be bitten all over his body. You bite him very lightly. You don't want to hurt him but you still want him to have pleasure. Three weeks earlier…

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

“Hi, can I have vodka?” You ask the bartender. You were short-tempered with any man who came near you that night because of how much you were craving blood.

“Sure” the bartender smiles at you while handing you your tiny glass of vodka.

“Thank you,” You say, giving the bartender a small smile.

“Hmm, I see you like vodka?” A man with blonde locks asks you.

“Yep. Now I don't mean to be rude or anything but please can you back off?”  You tell Duff with a glint of anger in your eyes.

“Sorry,” Duff turns around and minds his own business. 

You were surprised at that moment. No man has ever left you alone after saying that. You immediately start to like Duff because he is respectful to you and your needs at that moment. You turn to where Duff is standing and you lightly tap Duff on the shoulder.

“Hey I'm sorry for being rude a couple of seconds ago I don't know what got into me. Do you wanna sit down and talk?.” You ask trying not to be awkward.

Your craving for blood instantly goes away. You are only hungry for the man in front of you. You like him. You find him fascinating. You take him home and you show him that you're a vampire. 

“Holy shit. I knew it” Duff says in surprise.

“I'm not scared of you,” Duff says.

“I know. I knew the moment you talked to me that you weren't scared of me” You smirk.

“Bite me, babe,” Duff tells you.

“It's gonna hurt” You tease Duff.

“Bullshit, I'm into biting. I think it's sexy.” He says while his hands make his way to your neck.

Your fangs make their way onto Duff's neck. You bite him lightly leaving small marks on his neck.

“Mmm” He purrs sweet nothings in your ear. 

You immediately get on top of him as he is sitting on the chair in your room. He pushes you to the bed. His hands peel your skirt off. His fingers make his way in your panties and his long fingers make his way into your wet hole.

“Oh Duff” You moan. 

He takes his fingers out and he gets on top of you.

“You're such a good girl for a vampire you know? Who would have thought a vampire could control themselves around my kind.” Duff says teasingly.

“Oh Duff you make me a good girl. Im begging for your love baby” You say softly like an innocent human being.

“Oh I love how you love to act like a human. You're such a gorgeous honey. Turn me into one of you” Duff coos.

“Not tonight babe” You mumble as you bite Duff on the neck.

“See what did I tell you? You're a goody two shoes for a human” Duff moans.

Duff gets on top of you and he grabs his huge cock with his big hands and he places it at your entrance. 

“Such a pretty vampire cunt.” Duff smirks.

Duff shoves his cock inside of you. 

“Fuck Duff” You cry as your sharp nails scratch Duff's bare back.

“DUFF!” You sob as his hips collide with yours over and over again.

His hips smack with yours over and over again.

“Oh, baby who knew a vampire cunt would feel so good. Your still so fucking wet for a human” Duff moans as he is doing you.

Your hands grab his shoulders and you start to bite him again. You stop biting him. “Keep on going baby” You cry as he keeps going.

“Faster,” You say as his thick cock slides in you over and over again.

“Duff female vampires can't come. You have to do it yourself” You moan as you're breathless from him fucking you.

Duff throws his head back. Duff’s legs start to shake and his toes start to shake. Your hands are going through his hair as he orgasms in you. Duff leaves his orgasm inside of you. He lays down taking deep breaths after doing you.

“That was fun,” he says, trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah. I have a question. Was this a one time thing or do you like me?” You ask Duff while facing him on the bed.

“I want this to be forever Y/N when I said to turn me into a vampire I was serious.” He said.

“Well maybe I can if that is what you really want. Think about it though you're going to be like this for an eternity” You say as your hands move in his hair gently.

You give him some time to think about his decision to become a vampire. 

“No nevermind. I don't want to be stuck like that for an eternity.” He says as he gently holds your hands.

“That's what I thought,” You say kissing him on the cheek.

You both fall asleep in your white sheets. You're both cuddling in the clean white sheets.

[the-s1lly-corner]

OMHOMGOMG I KNOW U SAID U’R GETTING A LOT OF TADC REQUESTS BUT THIS IDEAAAA JUST CAME TO ME

How would the TADC gang react if they were on Kiss Cam? I know it wouldn’t make much sense since they’re in a game, but let’s use our ✨imagination✨ for now. Or digital hallucinations.

Would they refuse bc they want their privacy? Or would they have no problem with it? I feel like Jax would say you two are siblings or related in some way for sh!ts and giggles (even tho my fav isn’t Jax I’m just assuming lmao)

TADC cast x reader but theyre on a kiss cam!

WOOOOOOOO unrelated to the ask/post but yesterday i made decorated christmas cookies. and iced them for the first time and!! they may not be the prettiest, but theyre so yummy and you know what! im still proud RAAAAAAAH!! not giving any reason as to why theres a kiss cam so the readers can have their own takes and ideas for the scenario (and also admin was stumped SOBS)

CAINE:

honestly hes probably the one doing the kiss cam and the one angling it, if not its bubble... regardless, i think he would have a hand in it landing on the two of you... perhaps even rushing to your side just a second before the cam turns your way. this was all a ploy! raaah! probably presents his cheek to you in the most comical way, like hes leaning towards you and folding his hands together and turning his head off to the side... is absolutely ecstatic when you humor him and give him a quick peck. probably releases a bunch of confetti and sparkles even though this whole thing was likely orchestrated by him. fuckin loser/j

POMNI:

probably freezes when she sees that the cam landed on the two of you. gives you the fattest side eye as if to silently ask if you want to go through with kissing in front of everyone, being broadcasted and all.... either shes stuck frozen and youre going to have to initiate; or shes going to give you the quickest cheek kiss known the man before either of you can even fully process whats going on... though pomni does strike me as the type to want to respect her privacy....

RAGATHA:

also the type to want to respect their privacy, probably gives a quick reprimand to anyone who tries to pressure her into committing to the bit (cough cough jax, who is likely joking but feeding into it nonetheless)... she probably looks at the cam and gently shakes her head; perhaps even putting her hands up in a funky surrender and with a small nervous smile on her head. like if it werent being broadcasted on a huge screen they would be fine with giving you a kiss on the cheek or forehead in front of a few people, buuuut... thats not exactly whats going on here...

JAX:

honestly i think jax's first instinct would be to do something inappropriate the second he sees thats hes on the cam, just to mess with caine. doesnt even cross his mind at first to say or do anything with you... and perhaps he even wastes his opportunity to lightly embarrass you since caine probably rips the camera off of him due to his actions.... but on the chance he decides to do something with you before doing something else, he probably loudly exclaims that he doesnt know you or something similar to what you said in the ask!

KINGER:

freezes for a split moment before sheepishly turning towards you and asking for permission. while i do think kinger would enjoy privacy, he doesnt really see anything controversial in kissing his partner; since its not exactly wild or inappropriate plus how can he turn up a chance to get some affection? probably the only one whos willing to kiss you on the mouth.. or rather kiss as best as he can.. still quick, but you can tell theres love in there. sappy old man. pukes/j

ZOOBLE:

down right refuses to do anything on the cam, probably flips it off. does not like the attention it brings or being put on the spot; plus they generally dont like showing affection publicly outside of handholding and endearing names. definitely values their privacy... please dont kiss them on their cheek while the cam is on you guys, they will whip their head around and will probably smack you with it on accident... oh but also i think thats an overstep so thats a possible new issue, i think. not that theyre ashamed to be seen giving/receiving affection from you or that theyre ashamed to be your partner. quite the opposite. zooble just likes keeping their life private

GANGLE:

her mask pops off out of surprise and reveals her tragedy mask/j except i do think that she can do that... so maybe /hj... hmm... way too shy to do anything and youre too nice to put her in any situation that can make her uncomfortable or stress out, so youre the one rejecting the cam for gangles sake... she feels so bad for making you have to choose, though, especially if shes under the impression that you wanted to kiss her on cam. please reassure her shes fine and didnt do anything wrong

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 28

chapter 47:

1. 😟😶 no one even got to say goodbye. i- WHAT THE HELL??? FUCKING RIDDLE

2. i’m at least happy that remus, james, and pandora can all take care of each other during the games.

3. im actually highly worried about regulus being a death eater. too worried, actually

4. “Regulus realizes it as he sits there, never moving or doing anything at all, just breathing; he isn't scared this time. Not even a bit.”

reg not being scared makes ME scared

5. “He had planned to kiss Remus' mask one last time, and kiss Remus, too.”

of COURSE it’s ALWAYS wolfstar that tips the tears over. why does THAT make me sob???

6. oh shit. it’s a maze

7. “”Come now, surely you wouldn't harm me and little Draco, would you?"

"I'm going to give you one chance to run," Sirius tells her, holding still, "and take little Draco with you."”

LMAOO they both know she’s lying out her ass

8. “It's Mavis and Velvet; they'd done exactly as they promised they would. They found weapons, found each other, and they died together. Their bodies are splayed out on the ground right beside one another, curled close in death like the lovers they were in life.”

oh shit oh shit oh shit i’m starting to cry again. i feel so bad for them, but don’t blame them in the slightest. it’s what i would have done

9. “and there's just this quiet, momentary mourning and respect for two people who loved each other and decided, together, that they would not participate in a game as cruel and sadistic as this one. They went out together, in complete control of their own fate, and they never deserved anything other than a long life full of love.”

crying HARDER. this would be the turning point in the games for me. i shit you not, i’d start teaming up and trying to break out the fucking arena

10. “And then, unprompted, Regulus' voice rings out, nearly snarling. He's addressing the sky, the audience, the Hallows in a low hiss of derision when he declares, "When you take them, you take them together, and know that it's your fault."”

i know i’m quoting this whole little section, but it’s IMPORTANT and it HURTS and everyone in that arena is being human right now instead of trying to survive. they’re all united on the front that they’re human and understand what it meant to love

11. i’m not surprised that the “first” kill of the arena was made by sirius. especially since it was to save regulus

12. WAIT YALL ARE GONNA LAUGH AT ME FOR THIS!!! sirius killed twelve people in the arena the first time. just like how he was blamed for twelve deaths in canon. i. it took me too long to make that connection yall

13. oh CHRIST i forgot that they planned to kill marlene’s parents in front of her right before she went in the arena. i’m so sorry. i want to comfort her

14. “Someday, Riddle is going to fuck with the wrong person, and they're going to slaughter him, and on that day, the whole world is going to shine just a little brighter” 👀 side eye

15. sirius has too much trust in regulus and i understand why and i see that, but BABES you’re so wrong

16. “In fact, they're all eyeing him like they're considering just killing him now so they won't have to deal with the headache he is sure to be. He's so ridiculously fond of each of them, truly.” 😶😑😶 blink blink. my dear. you need therapy

17. i- eli got in the arena and took a GODDAMN NAP- no fucking way. that’s wild y’all

18. regulus hating the rain is so me. and i’m not even exaggerating. reg hates the rain and refuses to go in it. if i get wet from the rain, the second i get indoors, i start having severe panic attacks over getting wet. i don’t blame him in the slightest.

19. y’all. people have really got to stop challenging regulus. he says that he’s gonna kill a person or stab them with a fork or brutally maim them if they kill/insult james or sirius. and every damn time, people still test him. and every time, he goes through with it. why do people not believe him?? he SAID he won’t hesitate

20. the authors notes are literally me on the previous point (19):

“regulus: i am telling you explicitly what i will physically do to you if you do This Thing

everyone else: *does it anyway and is immediately shocked when he follows through*

like??? DOES HE LOOK LIKE THE TYPE OF MAN WHO JOKES??? WHY DOES NO ONE TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY??”

😭😭😭 me fr

remember to respect zar’s wishes and fanfic laws! do not buy fics! do not repost crimson rivers on other sites. please and thank you.

[simpinberry]

omg babe i love your bella ramsey hcs, can you write hcs of bella ramsey comforting upset or insecure reader 💘

!!!!hehehehhe guys i’m so excited i got my first ask yayayayy!! also yes ofc i can <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>

im gonna do 3 diff scenarios that my brain came with up :>

✧ you could not get yourself to like yourself today. it was just one of those days where you need a little bit of extra reassurance :,) exiting your room and marching over to your lovely s/o sitting on the couch, placing yourself completely on top of her. “oh-okay, this is new, oww babe my glasses” you’d shush her and snuggle closer into him. “do u still love me?” istg the loudest silence broke over yall. bellas annoying and immediate reaction would be just super sarcastically offended. once she realises you’re serious, she’d be excited that this was her moment. they’d go on for a good thirty minutes, talking about how beautiful they find you. placing a kiss on his favorite features of yours, telling you how you belong in a fairytale book cuz he sometimes questions how you’re even real. she’d tell you in detail how down bad she was (and still is) when he first met you. would really get into explaining how much he admires you, respects how talented you are, loves all of your quirks, adores your lil annoying habits. she’d finish saying, “i’m so lucky to be able to exist at the same time as you and even luckier to get the honour to love you” and then BOOM YOU GET ALLLL SHYY AND GIGGLY “thank u i needed that :,)” “can we make out now or?”

✧ one night, she’d come home to find you attempting to make dinner whilst literally sobbing. she’d immediately be concerned noticing that you’re actually bawling and not cutting any onions. “sweets? what’s the matter?” she’d immediately offer you a hug that you sink into. you explain that you were frustrated because you really wanted to make her favorite meal and everything that could’ve gone wrong did. she’d chuckle slightly at you and cup your face with her hands, making you face her. she’d tell you you’re absolutely adorable and that she really appreciates the effort. she’d pat your head and run her fingers through your hair telling you that it’s okay to fail sometimes and how you shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself. she’d tell you to go take a hot shower/wash your face and they’d clean up the whole kitchen :,(( she would order some food from your favorite close by restaurant tooo. you guys would spend the rest of the night curled up together on the couch watching your comfort movie :>

✧ bella was on her way over to your apartment and he was late :( you had just failed one of your important uni assignments and you were sat on ur bed, crushed. to put it simply you were disappointed in yourself because you know you didn’t put enough into it and that’s why u got 33%. really all you wanted was your bella, her comforting smell and contagious giggle. tears filled up your eyes thinking about how mad your dad was gonna be and oh god, your mom was gonna say all that shit and go on her little rant and ugh :((( “what’s up loser, i bring choc brownies” bella happily bursting through the door with her mocking american accent. you faced away from her, trying to wipe your face. noting your unusual silence they scoot over to you, reaching out and taking your wrist in his hand. you finally face her with blood shot eyes and a runny nose :( her face softens and she engulfs you in a tight hug, bring you onto her lap. you let go and sob into her chest, feeling a little relieved. you guys rock back and forth for a bit until bella speaks up, “you wanna tell me what happened?”. so you do <3 you tell him everything, how you highkey feel like a failure, your parents and all the stress. you finish speaking with a shaky deep breath. they’d start by giving you soft kisses all over your face, dancing from your forehead to your eyes onto both cheeks and then pecking your nose. she’d finish off by giving you a long kiss on the lips, “i’m here and i’m proud of you, i understand your disappointment my love. your worth is not reflected in that test. i love you very much”. before you start crying again he’d pull out the bag of brownies offering you one. he always knew how to make you laugh even in situations like this. “i hate to see you cry my love, m sorry for being late hope the brownies make up for it”

[dckweed]

Can you write a fic about Hangman and his friend from childhood and when she found out she was pregenat, her (former) bf broke up with her? You can make it as angsty or fluffy as you want.

TIA

absolutely love this! i had a couple of ideas and i hope you love the one that i landed on for this prompt! again guys, feel free to send in more, i love new ideas! this is honestly alot longer than i anticipated it to be and im so so so sorry but i got so wrapped up in it for some reason but hi how are you? also, would we want a part two to this maybe? make Jake and Babygirl a series? idk man i could vibe with it. anyway, comment, reblog, send in asks <3

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion and guilt and shame.

disclaimer: I did not add in abortion to make a stance on pro choice, nor did i add it in to make a stand off to pro lifers. Please do not bring the matter of pro choice or pro life into my comments or you will be blocked from my blog. This is a topic that makes me incredibly angry as a woman, abortion may not be something thats for you or that you'll ever find yourself doing, but that doesn't mean that its not an option for other people. Not every person will make the same choices as you, can we please remember and respect that? Everyone has a different stance on this topic and that is okay, but theres no need to argue.

part two

'YOU'RE NOT ALONE, OKAY?' jake seresin.

When Jake had called you last week, he had heard it in your voice immediately, even though you tried so desperately to hide it. The sadness, the fear. Before you had even finished telling him how much you missed him, he had cut you off with a: "What's wrong, babygirl?" Babygirl. He had called you that from the day he'd met you, and it had annoyed you greatly at first but over time it came to be second nature to respond to it and you had stopped rolling your eyes after a year or so. You and Jake had been stuck together like peanut butter and jelly from your very first day together. You were 13 when you had first moved into his hometown, your family had bought the ranch right next to his and his mama had made her happy way over to come say hello, a grumpy and annoyed Jake in tow.

You often laughed at the memory, Jake had come off as he usually did, ego-fueled and jackassy, though you later learned that it was just a front to survive in his big family of all boys, where he just happened to be the youngest and treated like the baby. You had even called him a jackass on that day, and he quickly followed it up. "Babygirl, has anyone ever told you that you're a brat?" Even at 13 he had the playboy names that he'd learned from watching his older brothers. He was appalled that you swung your arm back and popped him one right on the cheek, leaving his eye black for the next two weeks. He was enamored by you immediately and from that moment on was by your side every waking moment of the day.

Relationships had come and gone for both of you, both of you having your hearts broken more than once and seeking the other out for comfort, there had been many a night spent on one of the others living room couch with fuzzy blankets and cake while one of you cried. You and Jake were so bonded that most of your partners took it threateningly, girls he liked enough to bring around his family (including you) took offensively to you almost immediately, and your boyfriends took his presence in your life personally, and this time? Well, this time was no exception.

"..you still there?" You sobbed out a terrible cry that had him sitting up straight on his couch. You felt terrible immediately and tried to reel it all back in, you were calling to congratulate him on the permanent placement after the uranium mission, all of which you had heard details about every single night. "Y/N, what happened?"

"Jake..he left me.." You cry, trying not to snot all over yourself as you looked down at your bathroom counter, panic flooding your tone. It had been two weeks since he'd been gone, and you had been fine because you knew you didn't need him, but you were scared now. Scared for your future, scared to tell Jake about the two positive lines on the two pregnancy tests sitting on your sink, because what if he left you too? "I dont even remember what it was over," Him, always him. "but it just hurts so fucking bad because it's like two fucking years of my life wasted on this goddamn asshole and he went and..just..left."

He had left. Had taken every single one of the things he had kept at your home, and had even gone as far as blocking your number, all because you said you had wanted to go take a trip to see your best friend Jake when he was finished with his detachment, even though you had just seen him two months before. He had called you a whore when you first told him you thought you were pregnant, it hadn't been more than two weeks since you'd last seen Jake and he was absolutely convinced that you two had fucked, even though he had been with you the whole time. You couldn't understand why every guy you dated thought that there was something between you and the man who had always been your best friend, or why his girlfriends treat you the way they did, but you tried not to dwell on it for too long.

"Y/N." Jake sighs, the sounds coming from your end of the phone absolutely tearing him apart. It always tore him apart, the way that you would fret and cry over these..these boys that hadn't ever treat you in the way that you needed to be treated, or let alone loved you in the way that Jake knew you needed to be loved, because he did love you in a way that you would probably never know. He had always been to afraid to tell you, too afraid of it making you uncomfortable enough that you would leave his life. Maybe not immediately, but over time, and that thought scared him even more than telling you how he truly felt because goddamn he couldn't and wouldn't ever imagine a life without his babygirl in it.

Two hours of crying on the phone, of convincing you to calm down and to take your damn vacation like you had planned, because you deserved it, and 14 hours later, Jake had you in his arms, held tightly to his always muscular chest as he basked in the feel of you, the scent of your hair and perfume. You looked a mess, you were a mess he knew, but he didn't care.

"I missed you so much.." You sniffle, pulling away from him. You wipe your eyes as you look up at him, his usual charming smile plastered across his stupidly handsome face, you couldn't help the smile that spread across yours at the sight.

"No tears, babygirl, no tears.." He says, bringing a thumb up to help you wipe your eyes. You lean into his touch, as if that was all the comfort you needed in the world and you watched the way his face softened, you loved that.

"Happy tears, i promise." You chuckle, leaning against him as he lead you to the baggage claim carousel for your flight. Your suitcases were easy to see, he'd seen them a million times before and didn't even need to double check to make sure he was right, he recognized the small stain on the bottom by the wheel that had been his doing. "You don't have to carry my bags Jake, you've already done enough by coming to get me."

"I always pick you up from the airport whenever you visit," He says, looking down at you as if what you said was absolutely insane. He grabbed the cases with ease and started wheeling them away, letting you carry your carry on bag. "Besides, if my mama ever found out i didn't carry a woman's bags for her, she'd drag me out of work by my ear and give me a talking to." He says only half jokingly. Mama Seresin had been a strict woman, but a loving one and had instilled all the southern gentlemen charms in all of her boys, quite proudly she liked to say.

"I know, and i feel like it's alot to ask, I dont mind carrying my own bags, Jake.." You say, following after him. You wore a baggy sweatshirt and some shorts, you knew it was hot in the San Diego area but you weren't wanting to risk Jake asking if you'd gained weight if your normal clothes looked different, you weren't ready to tell him yet.

"And i feel like it's the least i could do, you literally sat on an airplane for four hours just to come see me, you dont need to carry your bags to the truck too.." He says in a way that told you not to argue about it any farther, so you don't.

The trip to his truck isn't too long, he managed to find decent parking not far from the arrivals gates and you had planned your flight for a time when you knew it wouldn't be massively busy, but the drive to his off base apartment felt like it took hours. Jake talked most of the time, making sure the A/C was blowing on you at full blast because you looked sweaty, telling you about his friends and how they couldn't wait to meet the girl he was always talking about, about how he was looking forward to having a permanent position at the TOP GUN academy, even though it meant he couldn't be close to you at home anymore.

You listened the whole way, but your mind was on the little thing in your womb now, growing by the moment. Your mind was on the man who had up and left you as soon as you said it might have been a possibility because he swore you were a whore. Your mind was on your own Mama, who had passed away many years ago, you wished she was here to tell you what to do. You knew you could go to Jake's mama, she had always been like your own in some ways but you also knew that she couldn't keep a secret to herself, Jake would be the first phone call as soon as you were out of earshot and you didn't want him to find out in that way. You didn't want him to find out at all, afraid of what he would say, of disappointing him, you hated that thought more than you hated the thought of your Daddy being disappointed at you.

You had contemplated making an appointment at planned Parenthood, you knew you weren't too far along, it was still a possibility for you, but you couldn't bare the thought of it, as upset as you were. The universe had given you this curveball for a reason, you had to believe that, even if you didn't agree with it. You had to believe that this accident had a purpose.

You hadn't noticed that Jake had pulled into a small parking lot, or that he had even parked the car at all until his hand waved in front of your face, snapping you out of your reverie. "...Earth to Y/N..." You blinked rapidly a few times, taking in a deep breath as you turned to look at him. "You good?"

You smile forcefully, and his eyebrows furrow. "Sorry, i spaced for a minute. It's been a long couple of weeks, my brain wasn't all the way with it.." You say, looking outside the windshield. "Why are we at the beach?" You ask, your eyebrows furrowing now. A sandy strip of beach was in front of the truck, you could see the waves crashing against it and you could make out some people milling about, birds flying over head. If you squinted, you could make out a couple of surfers on the water, waiting for a decent swell to ride in.

"Because i live in the building right over there." Jake says softly, getting the feeling that something other than the breakup was bothering you. You were usually full of chatter, typically, jake couldn't get a word in edgewise when you were around, and he loved that about you, but today? Today it was all him and that worried him.

You glance towards the building to your right, confused. "Oh.." You shake your head and unbuckle your seatbelt, opening the door to his truck to get out when his large hand on your elbow stops you, his fingers wrapping around it and pulling you back towards him. "...Jake?"

He sighs, looking at you with that stern, but probing glance, as if he were looking into your soul. "..Are you sure you're okay?" He asks after a moment of hesitation, he wanted to know what was going on but he didn't want to push it too hard.

You could have cried right then and there, and you almost did as you could feel the tears welling in your eyes, your chin quivering as you tried desperately not to let them fall. You could only hope that he didn't notice. "Yeah," You nod, giving him the best smile that you possibly could, putting your other hand on top of his and giving it a squeeze. "I'm okay Jake, i promise.."

Jake doesn't believe you, not one bit but he knows that he'll figure out whats going on eventually, or you'll break down and tell him. You always did. He nods once, letting go of your arm before taking the keys out of the ignition and hopping out. You follow suit, having to jump down before joining him at the bed of the truck, where he lifts your bags out and sets them down.

The rest of the day goes smoothly, you settle into the guest room that he had made up for you, and you catch up with him on what he hadn't filled you in on over the phone. He made you lunch, and took you for a walk on the beach, letting you lean against him as you enjoyed the smell of the ocean.

Jake couldn't help but wish that he was able to do that with you all the time, hold you while you guys walked on the beach, or make lunch and eat it with you. He loved being with you all the time, and he always had, he just had never realized until it was much too late that it was because he loved you. He didn't like to dwell on it too much though, he didn't like the yearning and the sadness and anger it brought him. There was no need for it when you were with him now, even if only for a little while.

By the time sunset comes around you're starting to turn into the you that he's used to, the happy, goofy babygirl he had always known, and he can't help but think it's because you're happier here with him than you were with your ex, wishful thinking, he knew. But alas, a man could dream, couldn't he?

You were sat on the couch in Jake's living room, watching a game show like you used to when you were kids when you heard his phone ping with a text message. You chuckle as he groans grumpily, half asleep with your legs in his lap, and shifts to reach for his phone on the small table next to the couch.

You watch him roll his eyes and poke his tongue out as he types out a reply to whomever it was, you grin before poking him in the chest with your foot. "What was that eyeroll for?" You ask, half amused and half curious. You always were the nosey type. "Was it Rooster?" He had told you about how rocky their friendship was, but that it was getting better, you knew that Rooster could annoy the hell out of Jake without even trying and you thought it was absolutely hilarious because you knew that you used to do the same thing.

Jake sighs, looking at you with that million dollar smile of his. "If you must know, Babygirl," He starts and you cant help but giggle a little. "It was Phoenix, the squad are all heading to the Hard Deck and they wanted to know if I was coming." He says and you hum at him in response. "I'm telling them no, I'm sure you don't want to go and i don't want to leave you alone."

You think on it for a moment, staring at him before making your mind up. "Lets go." You say, sitting up and swinging your legs off of his lap. You miss the pout that he makes, his eyebrows furrowing at the loss of your touch. "I want to meet your other friends, i bet they could tell me some stories." You say with a giggle, going towards the guest room to change into better clothes.

Jake watches after you and stands with an exaggerated sigh after a moment. "Fine, but I'm only going so they tell you the good stories!" He says and you cackle knowing damn well that they would probably spin you some tales about the man you've known for a good portion of your life, you didn't mind because you could tell them some things that would make them piss themselves in return.

It wasn't long before the two of you are out the door, Jake locking it after you before walking with you to his truck. You were honestly feeling alot better about things with your ex after only being with him for a few hours, Jake always had that affect on you to make things feel better when it felt like the world was tumbling down around you.

You sing along to the country station as Jake drives, the windows down in his truck letting the ocean breeze flow through the cab as you guys go along the coast, and within a few moments you see the lights of the Hard Deck through the windshield and take note of the full parking lot.

"Damn Jake, is it always this busy?" You ask, slightly on edge by the amount of people that were probably in the bar, you put your hand on your tummy subconsciously, which Jake caught out of the corner of his eye as he found a parking space. That struck him as odd, you had never been the socially nervous person before.

That was Jake's first clue. You declining a chilled tequila in favor of water was his second, and honestly it was the only one that he needed to make the assumption. You never turned down tequila, especially after a breakup like this. Eyebrows furrowed in thought as he introduces you to his friends, Jake watches you throughout the night, merely sipping on his beer as he did, keeping an eye on you as moved throughout the bar.

Phoenix and Rooster absolutely loved you, they couldn't believe that you and Jake had been friends for as long as you had, or that you could stand to be around him and his ego. Bob had thought you were his long distance girlfriend from the way that he always talked about you, and the fact that he rarely every called you anything besides Babygirl. You chuckled at the trio, about to tell them that he had never once in your entire friendship called anything other than Babygirl if it wasn't absolutely necessary, when you felt your stomach lurch as Penny brought a plate of seafood around your area of the bar. Quickly, you excuse yourself, just barely making it to the bathroom before the vomit spews out of you.

Jake was hot on your tail, had even followed you into the bathroom to dutifully hold your hair for you, his large hand rubbing your back as you heaved the contents of your stomach into the toilet. "Jesus Y/N.." He says, a serious edge to his voice. He wasn't sure what he was upset about, the fact that you hadn't told him immediately, or that your boyfriend had left you. "How long?" He asks when you stand up, wiping your face with a paper towel he had handed you.

You let out a soft sigh, making your way to the sink where you splash your face with water, hoping that if you delayed the answer he would go away. He catches your eye through the mirror, arms crossed over his chest as he gives you that look of pure concern.

"..Two months, i think.." You finally say and Jake's jaw clenches. Your lip quivers, terrified that he's angry with you as scared tears well up in your eyes. "He..he called me a whore..he thought i slept with you and he called me a whore and he left and he took all of his things and he blocked my number and jake i dont know what to fucking do because this wasn't part of my plan!" You wail in one breath, completely breaking down in the bathroom of the bar.

Jake is almost startled by your outburst, but it quickly turns to anger at the words that left your mouth, at the accusation that your ex had made towards you. Jake knew you were a fiercely loyal person, you wouldn't have ever cheated on him, but he was more than certain that he would have cheated on you, how else could he have called you that so easily?

Jake swallows his anger, noticig your tears coming harder and faster down your face and crosses the small bathroom to pull you into his arms, letting you rest your face on his chest as he holds you, letting you sob all over his shirt. "It's okay, Babygirl.." He says, looking at the sight in the mirror. If there was one thing Jake Seresin knew for certain, it was that he was going to make sure you were cared for, it may not have been his baby but you absolutely weren't on your own in this, he wouldn't let you be. "You're not alone..i promise you.."

[zurka-durka]

not sure if ive ever sent an ask abt this but would u happen to have any kingsai hcs to spare? 👉👈

I DO THANK YOU FOR ASKING though none of these r uncommon or particularly shocking but still

-King calls Saitama 'Tama-shi. Im not a big fan of Saitama being nicknamed. Like "Sai" makes me squint every time but 'Tama-shi???🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️speak your truth King.

-I believe King's been searching for Saitama after their first encounter. Watching news and reading articles about more "niche" heroes etc. To say he felt sick after realizing that throughout all those years it really was just Saitama on his own defeating monsters around him s like saying nothing lmao.

-20 words or less doesn't really work between them. King never talks over/at Saitama rather he tries to have a real conversation. Saitama spaces out around him only when there's something on his mind.

-Genos is chill around King. He trusts Saitama's judgment (like when he immediately dropped the chase after saitama told him that amai's cool in the webcomic) but he does not know about the "stolen achievements". i cant sugarcoat this-there's no way in hell Genos would take that information lightly and even Saitama knows that. some lies they have to live with.

even if Genos separates in the future or grows cold and distant, the respect he has for Saiatama won't ever wither entirely anyway and King would rather bite his tongue than get on Genos' bad side.

-King has insane daydreams about Saitama in his suit and stuff im sorry. He jokes about how cartoonish his costume looks but he's all eyes.

-Saitama's gonna be around if King ever tries to get physically stronger. "Just lift dude" just to end up as his personal trainer lmao. Saitama'd try to teach King how to breathe properly, hand on his chest and everything, telling him "you're okay" when he gets hurt or if it's too much on King and that just makes King fall deeper.

-Saitama is the type to say im not in the mood and when being hit with "that's okay! next time i guess" he switches immediately because he values that respect just so much. There's no one but King in Saitama's life who considers his comfort in such a way. The only thing he holds to Saitama's face are his morals and actions, which is good cause Saitama can be easily very ignorant at times.

Not a headcanon but the main factor to me and why i love them sm: Saitama is very kind in a way that is just natural, not something that comes with effort, it's just how he is and King cries several times because of that alone. It's the "are you okay?" that brings such comfort to him that he bawled his eyes out, or when they are alone together King can actually let it go and spill things out and sob without feeling uncomfortable. And trust! The absolute trust that King has in Saitama, especially during the MA arc or the elder centipede. Because, unlike Genos for example, King is very much familiar and aware of Saitama flaws yet he never doubts him. So he puts himself in dangerous position, consciously choosing to sacrifice himself because a person like Saitama would do that. And he'd rather be scared but do it scared anyway than betray that concept is soooo to me

They bring out the best in each other fr

[chemicallady]

I LOVE YOU TO DEATH BUT IM DROWING

Part 1

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem Reader

Content Warning: smutty content; implies sexual situations and strong language. Also, mentions to mental issues (anxiety, primarily).

Summary:  this your first job as merch girl in tour with a band. Its also the first time for you to fall in love so dramatically for someone that is almost a stranger to you. Someone that you really aren't able to get out of your head. What is Noah Sebastian hiding behind his dark eyes? This description is so cringe that I'm embarrassing myself. Its hard to keep up with the tour routine and your feelings at the same time.

A/N: HI HI HI SWEET LEMON PIES! so I beg you to be gentle because 1. this is my first smut ff and I dont know if I got it or not and 2. I'm not a native speaker. I'm trying my best to find my own place amoung the INCREDIBLE writers of this fandom. Of course what I'm describing is all fictional, I (unfortunately) don't know Noah personally , neither the rest of the band and crew. I have a lot of respect for them all and admiration for the work of art they're doing on tour rn. My intentions are far from being offensive towards them, I only want to deliver some good time to Noah's bitchies like me here on tumblr. I really hope I will! My pm are always open for opinions or talking about the band. Have a good one!

Enjoy

One hands slowly caresses every inch of naked skin on your back while the pace of the pounding slow down a bit. Your body is covered in a thin layer of sweat; you're heavily panting, your legs and arms shaked by a slight flicker. There is nothing that can stop your hair from falling on your face, but your vision is still clear enough to get another quick look the mirror on front of you. The sight brings you to repress a moan, biting your lips. Bended on the small table, partially , you look like a desperate mess. The pleasure you're experimenting is unbearable at this point. You could fall any time soon if it wasn't for the man that is taking you from behind. Noah looks merciless in this moment, while he is holding you still with a firm grip. His hips inconter you naked skin in an harmony of slaps, while he is fucking you. And that's the only sensible sound in the room because you have to keep it quiet; the green room is one wall next the small fitting room in which the two of you are hiding.

You don't have much time. Someone eventually will notice that one of the merch girls is not around before the opening of the gates and your colleague can't cover for you forever.

But in this very moment you're unable to think about anything but the gorgeous man that is rearranging your interiors. His eyes look pitch black in the soft light of the dressing room, his whispers and exhalations are low and scratchy.

He's the hottest thing you have ever laid your eyes on and he is only for you now. You're feeling like he is consuming your soul along with your body.

In a crescendo of intensity his hand comes between your legs, rubbing your clit in a hurry, following the movements of his hips.

He is close and so you are. For you its gonna be your second orgasm in less than fifteen minutes and its mental.

You can feel a pool of familiar warm forming inside your belly while your body starts to tense. The ecstatic pleasure of the orgasm starts to run through your veins, your walls are getting tight around his erection. When you come, it is impossible for you to hold back a sob.

For a second, your vision blurs, and your legs are about to give up. With your last strength, you hold yourself up on the table just enough to let only your breast touch the cold surface of the table while the pounding becomes erratic. His body tenses, rocking in you just twice more, and them he releases. The grip on your hips gets loose but still firm enough not to let you go on the floor.

Ironic enough, this is your favourite part; he gives you the time to get yourself together, landing his head between your neck and your shoulder. The scent of his hair is intoxicating, and all you want is being able to turn around and give him a passionate kiss. But you know it won't happen. Not today, at least, because in the moment he is sure you gained enough strength, he pulls out and starts to fix his clothes. You do the same, still in silent. With the side of your eye, you watch me taking off his condom, while he is cleaning himself with a paper tissue. He hands you one for yourself, avoiding to meet your gaze, and them he fixes his jeans.

《 Are you feeling good?》 , he asks with a raspy voice. It seems like the first time you've heard him speaking today. You are able to nod while you're fixing your panties and skirt, but you're not really into small talks.

He nods as well before leaving the room first, after sharing a shy smile that makes you uncomfortable for a second...

《 y/n? y/n??? You have a costumer.》

Steve's voice brings you back to reality. You guys are pulling away all the merch unsold but some people are still leaving the place, so with a smile that is a bit forced, you turn to them, asking which t-shirt they like to see closer and the size.

It happens all the time. You zone out without any intention since Orlando. That tour date was the one who changed everything.

It was an easy job, in the beginning. You simply know a guy that knows another, who knows Steve, the sales manager for Bad Omens, a metalcore band you kinda like since a while now. Easy job, maybe a bit too much frenetic, but nothing unbearable. You can see different cities, gigs and get a decent pay while having some fun, since you're have no responsability except smiling and selling as much as possible.

Noah got you the evening you met him, a couple of days before the first tour date. You were miserable after a long flight to Los Angeles but he had eyes only for you. He was kind and funny, almost goofy in a couple of occasions. All the members of the crew and band gave you a warm welcome, but Noah was the nicest one. The two of you clicked immediately. He has a lot in common with you, not only music and gaming.

He was the first one to make you feel like you have always been in the crew, part of their big family. What was born as a nice friendship evolved quickly into something even closer, and that's the deal, for you. It was too quick. You couldn't help but look for him any minute of your waking time. Before you could even realise it, you were sitting on his lap, starting a kiss. The kiss you started was followed by his hands on your body and then to a lot of pre show sex.

But this blind passion took off everything else. The laughs, the light chatting, the smiles. Your complicity came to an end, and you didn't see that coming. Noah can barely look at you now. He almost stopped talking to you. And this is heartbroken because you believed you were building something. You never hidden how much you like him, it's evident even without saying it out loud. But you've never thought that it could have been a problem.

Noah Sebastian is beautiful and successful, but he is a man made by flesh and bones. He is human. You are not the type that idiolazed famous people. With this mindset you made your move....

.... the move you're now regretting so much.

《 you have done an amazing job tonight, I havent see you keeping a break》 Steve congratulates you when your last client is served. 《 go and get some beer, I can finish with the boxes with Mandy, right?》

Your coworker barely nod, while she is closing one of the boxes. She is the one who covers for you every day, but she's getting bitter because you still have to tell her what exactly she is covering. The truth is that you're a bit ashamed. You feel like you're selling yourself to the devil, but nothing could help. There is no way you will stop having these incounters with Noah. Maybe in this way you have a chance to fix it. Maybe he will tell you one of these days what he is hiding from you.

What he's ashamed of.

Why hes holding up so much.

But it's not today, and you can tell by the look he gives you when you enter the room where the crew is gathering. Matt cheers you with a can of beer, asking about the tonight selling and if you had any problem. Then he invites you to pick up a slice of pizza and relax a bit. The obvious choice for you is sitting next to Folio, so you can listen to his excited chronicle of the show.

Noah is just a couple of seats away from you but it feels like an ocean apart. You don't even bother to look at him.

You know he won't exchange the gaze...

{ part 2 coming soon }

[rebkys]

TRAITOR | part 2

oikawa x freader

*this supposed to have no part 2 but im bored so here ya go i tried to not make it cringe btw😅*

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

The days turned into weeks, and the sting of Oikawa’s betrayal began to fade, though the wound was far from healed. You kept your distance, focusing on your studies and spending time with friends who truly cared about you. It wasn’t easy, but you were determined to move on.

Then one afternoon, you heard familiar laughter echoing down the hallway. It was different this time, though—more forced, more hollow. You turned to see your former friend walking toward you, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice trembling.

You just stared at her with a blank face.

“It’s Oikawa. He… he cheated on me,” she confessed, tears streaming down her face. “I thought he loved me, but he was just using me.”

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “I warned you.”

She reached out, desperation in her eyes. “Please, I need someone to talk to. I need a friend. All our friends stopped talking to me. I regret it. I’m sorry.”

You stepped back, just staring at her with a blank face. You didn’t expect this to happen—Oikawa cheating on her after they were all lovey-dovey like a perfect couple everywhere at school, just to rub it in your face.

“No, I still can’t forgive you after everything you and Oikawa did to me. Sorry, but don’t you remember that we are no longer friends?”

Her face crumpled, and she stumbled away, her sobs echoing in the empty hallway. You watched her go, a sense of finality settling over you. It was time to truly move on from both of them.

Weeks later, you found yourself smiling more often, the pain of betrayal a distant memory. You had started dating someone new—someone kind, genuine, and trustworthy. He treated you with the respect and love you deserved, and you finally felt happy again.

One day, as you were walking to put your stuff in your locker, you saw Oikawa standing alone by the lockers, looking like he was waiting for someone. When he saw you, he immediately walked over.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice soft and pleading.

You didn’t glance at him for a whole minute before you took a deep breath and turned to Oikawa. “What do you want?”

“I made a mistake,” he admitted, his eyes searching yours. “I never should have let you go. I miss you.”

You shook your head, a sad smile on your lips. “It’s too late, Oikawa. You made your choice, and I made mine.”

He looked at you, his expression pained. “Please, give me another chance.”

As Oikawa begged, someone called your name. You turned and smiled widely. Oikawa knew he really messed up. You turned back to him.

“No. Goodbye, Oikawa.”

As you walked away to join your boyfriend, Oikawa had lost his chance, and you had finally found happiness with someone who truly valued you. It was time to leave the past behind and embrace the future.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Yuu is a Human Weapon

Reverse comfort with Azul. Gn reader

He knew better than to question the scars that ran across your body. It was business only to you, after all. Still, he occasionally stares at them and wonders who the hell did this to you? The scars looked… purposeful, not accidental, like perfect surgical marks across your skin that made his stomach churn. As far as he was aware, there should be no procedure that matched any of the patterns of scars on your body.

He never questioned them respecting your space… however… He did feel a bit odd accepting your affections for a while

It's not because he doesn’t love you! Goodness, no! It's that he notices that you seem to become dejected when talking about yourself. 

You weren't afraid to compliment him and worship every part of him, making sure you got it through his thick skull that you loved his body, that there was no reason to feel insecure. Yet, you refuse to even look in the mirror.

He planned on confronting you about it one day, but it ended up happening accidentally. He talked in on you changing accidentally. Usually, he would be horrified at such nudity and apologize, but when he opened the door and saw your bandaged, shirtless torso and teary eyes he froze.

“Yuu?” “Azul! I-Im sorry! you shouldn't see me this way!” Tears welled up in your eyes and you curled away from Azul. “I don't deserve you Azul! You deserve so much better!” You sobbed covering your face. “You deserve someone less damaged- someone, that wasn’t made to be what I was!” 

Azul started to tear up as questions filled his head. “My love, don't say such things…” Azul held your hands as he looked you over, your scars ran deeper and were more plentiful than he thought they were. “I love you for you. I don't care about anyone else because they’re not you!” It took time for Azul to be able to calm you down.

As your tears stopped you slowly let go of him and sat back in your old bed as you reached down to grab your shirt off the floor. “Yuu…”  Azul swallowed as he sat beside you, fingers carefully tracing a scar “what happened?” “You don't want to know.” “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn't want to know.” He sassed.

Perhaps he wasn’t ready. As you described the procedures you’ve gone through and what for, he felt his stomach churn. Surgical to shut down pain receptors, lobotomies in attempts to make a mindless soldier, and a horrific training regimen. As he pieced it all together, he made sense of your previous behaviors.

How you fought Floyd when you both first met, how you didn’t flinch at his deals, how you handled yourself during beanfest, how you handle Savanahclaw students that would come after you. And now the way you spoke of yourself as if it was your fault any of this happened to you. You believed you were only made for violence, that you were not meant for love.

You, a person who did nothing but lift up others, who was kind to everyone, who always stood up for others, was undeserving of love? It was baffling in Azul’s mind how he ended up with someone like you, not to mention how you believed any of the stuff you said. “Yuu, listen…” He interrupted your thoughts and held your hands.

You both knew that it would take time, but together you promised that you will learn to love yourselves. As Azul wiped away what was left of your tears, you knew that you really lucked out when it came to partners.