#but these bits made me very :'-o emotional .

[5ftboy]

"I've been afraid all of my life. And you guys are really, really kind. There's no part of you that'll feel like you're just dragging me around?" "[We're] all going to do stuff the others don't like from time to time... But that's what best friends are for. We'll work through whatever we have to."

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

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*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head. 

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.” 

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze. 

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks. 

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.” 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast. 

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes. 

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.” 

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you. 

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now. 

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence. 

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you. 

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right. 

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress. 

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect. 

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made. 

Nest. 

You’re nesting again. 

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-” 

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize. 

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs. 

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances. 

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher. 

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”  

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs. 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin. 

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs. 

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache. 

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers. 

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in. 

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress. 

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap. 

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his. 

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words. 

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.” 

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.” 

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself. 

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea. 

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you. 

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs. 

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans. 

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even. 

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked. 

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you. 

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega. 

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.” 

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon. 

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move. 

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you. 

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock. 

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand. 

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!” 

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm. 

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices. 

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp. 

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac. 

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to? 

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything. 

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay. 

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door. 

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted. 

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head. 

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him. 

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision. 

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet. 

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.” 

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.” 

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs. 

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment. 

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.” 

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity. 

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.” 

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.” 

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.” 

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur. 

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.” 

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay. 

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep. 

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you. 

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still. 

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would. 

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images. 

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly. 

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.” 

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed. 

“What are you going to get?” You ask. 

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply. 

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.” 

He snorts. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!” 

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest. 

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask. 

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours. 

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all. 

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all. 

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” 

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs. 

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side. 

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you. 

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.” 

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.” 

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves. 

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours. 

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you. 

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room. 

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin. 

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core. 

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you. 

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!” 

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot. 

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.” 

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall. 

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you. 

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise. 

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. 

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired. 

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious. 

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment. 

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side. 

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads. 

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames. 

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass. 

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed. 

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again. 

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower. 

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again. 

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training. 

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head. 

He didn’t change his shirt. 

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you. 

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look. 

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening. 

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile. 

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face. 

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.” 

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.” 

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you. 

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.” 

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him. 

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?” 

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork. 

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray. 

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete. 

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor? 

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do. 

But he didn’t. 

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s. 

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he. 

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do. 

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s. 

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship. 

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him. 

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes. 

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.” 

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway. 

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air. 

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.” 

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?” 

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete. 

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.” 

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM. 

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.” 

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room. 

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass. 

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you. 

Fuck this is going to be a long training session. 

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either. 

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp. 

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.” 

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.” 

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you. 

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal. 

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been. 

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat. 

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?” 

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings. 

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!” 

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache. 

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth. 

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!” 

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release. 

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit. 

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief. 

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud. 

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to. 

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly. 

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.” 

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance. 

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him. 

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you. 

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you. 

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.” 

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise. 

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.” 

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.” 

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand. 

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room. 

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs. 

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body. 

And that was only with his fingers. 

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin. 

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet. 

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again. 

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear. 

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.” 

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.” 

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.” 

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much. 

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive. 

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.” 

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.” 

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.” 

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds. 

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door. 

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?” 

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another. 

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you. 

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism. 

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.” 

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.” 

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe. 

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book. 

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.” 

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit. 

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Yes, sir.” You respond. 

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.” 

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up. 

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes. 

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it. 

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire. 

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth. 

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched. 

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause. 

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why. 

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him. 

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.” 

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists. 

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.” 

“What if I can’t stop?” 

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.” 

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow. 

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” 

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before. 

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. 

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin. 

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice. 

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.” 

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh. 

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor. 

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits. 

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.” 

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest. 

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple. 

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple. 

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps. 

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head. 

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass. 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do. 

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?” 

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed. 

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you. 

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips. 

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him. 

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her. 

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. 

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel. 

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea. 

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud. 

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.” 

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water. 

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you. 

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind. 

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door. 

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up. 

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues. 

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you. 

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot. 

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed. 

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again. 

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor. 

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach. 

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way. 

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment. 

You hadn't even been naked then. 

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are. 

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight. 

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand. 

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier. 

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back. 

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks. 

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.” 

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone. 

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him. 

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.” 

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in. 

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.” 

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot. 

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going. 

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release. 

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in. 

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.” 

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long. 

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.” 

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.  

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock. 

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room. 

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week. 

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal. 

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood. 

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.” 

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm. 

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.” 

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress. 

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure. 

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper. 

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt. 

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy. 

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass. 

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted. 

He’s not Simon anymore. 

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out. 

“Alpha!” 

NEXT ->

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[tbaluver]

Hi ree 🤭

Can I request y/n flinching during an argument when the boys make a sudden movement. Give it a happy ending pls.

I'm craving some angst with fluff on the side.

Has to be served by u tho 😭🌹

Flinching During An Argument- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: slight angst with some fluff/ comfort ! a/n: HIHI TEE !! ily (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i hope this was okay and i hope i served and if not im soso sorry and this doesn't exist ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

It was your first argument with Xavier and you’d never seen this side of him. His usually warm, soft eyes narrow into a piercing glare, losing their usual kindness and sleepiness to it. You had always believed that you and Xavier would never argue, yet here you were, caught in a heated argument. Frustration had clouded both your minds, leaving both to forget what the initial problem even was. The emotional exhaustion was palpable and you both were weary from the conflict.

In an attempt to reconcile, Xavier reached out to pull you closer and offer an apology. His sudden gesture was unexpected and made you flinch. The movement was too abrupt, causing you a momentary surge of anxiety. You recoiled back slightly, your body tense.

His eyes widened in shock at your reaction. Instantly, he withdrew his arm, staring down at his hands as if they had betrayed him. Hurt and confusion on his face were palpable, as if he committed an offense. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, “I’m so sorry if I scared you. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

The frustration that had marked his earlier expression melted away and was replaced by the tender, sincere face you knew and loved. As your mind began to process the sudden shift and the context of his actions, you realized that his outstretched arm had been an attempt to offer comfort.

“I’m sorry you thought I’d hurt you,” Xavier says, his voice weighted with sincerity. “I promise I will never do that. I don’t know what I did to make you feel this way, but I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to be a better boyfriend.”

Seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes, you stepped forward closer to him, your heart aching for him. Gently, you cupped his cheek in your hand, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm. “You’re not a bad boyfriend,” You reassured him, your voice soft and soothing. Xavier nuzzled into your hand, a small grateful small forming on his lips. "I know you would be the last person in this world to hurt me. It was just out of instinct, I’m sorry.”

The tension between you began to dissolve, bridging the gap that had formed during the argument. "Then let’s promise to never argue ever again,” He says, locking your eyes with yours. “I didn’t like it one bit.”

You nod with a soft smile as he reaches out to take your hand in his, holding it close. “We’ll find a better way to handle things. I love you too much to let anything come between us.” You both drew closer, wrapping each other in an embrace. He presses his lips gently on your forehead to remind you.

Zayne:

Zayne loves you very much. He may not always express it in words, but his actions always speak volumes and the way he takes care of you shows how deeply he cares. Most of your arguments tend to revolve around your wellbeing and the way you don't take care of yourself properly. When you're stubborn and brush off his concerns, it frustrates him further.

Tonight it seems like the frustration built up and Zayne who usually speaks with a gentle tone towards you, finds himself slightly raising his voice for the first time. It was out of a mix of desperation and concern for you. He raises his hand to fix the collar of his button up shirt. He tugs at the collar and tries to smooth it out, adjusting it. However, the sudden movement is mistaken by you in the heat of the moment. Seeing Zayne’s hand come up, your heart skips a beat and a rush of panic comes through you. At the moment, the gesture felt threatening as if he was trying to strike you. But deep down you know Zayne would never hurt you but rather the fear of the unknown makes you flinch. You take a step back, your eyes wide and your body tense.

Zayne notices your reaction and his face falls. The realization of his innocent gesture was misinterpreted and hits him like a wave. His throat tightens and he struggles to find the right words as he tries to reassure you. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” His hand lowers and he swallows hard. His eyes were a mix of regret and exhaustion. The tension in his gaze is palpable, clear even without words. “I’m sorry,” He says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I was just fixing my collar. I would never hurt you. Please, don’t think that. Forgive me my love.” His eyes lock onto yours, pleading for you to see the truth in his expression.

You can see the pain in his eyes, his usually composed demeanor has cracked under the weight of your misinterpretation. The fear in your chest slowly begins to disappear as you recognize his genuine remorse and the depth of his feelings.

As you speak, your body relaxes. "I'm sorry. I don't really know why I did that" You admit, letting out a sigh. You blink a few times, trying to prevent the tears that threaten to spill.

Zayne watches you with a soft, concerned look. He takes a deep breath, stepping closer to you. "May I?-"

You nod, and he closes the distance between you, enveloping you in his arms. He pulls you in a little tighter, his hands resting soothingly on your back.

"It's alright you do not have to know." He sighs, pressing a kiss at the top of your head as he rubs soothing circles on your back. "I promise you, I would never do such a thing. Please let me make it right my love."

Rafayel:

Usually your arguments were nothing more than just playful banter, something that was brushed off with laughter. But today, something was different about this argument. The conversation escalated into a heated argument, with both of you frustrated. The words you threw at each other were sharper, the silence afterward heavier.

Rafayel’s hands lifted to ruffle his hair out of frustration but it seemed to heighten the tension. You backed away, closing your eyes and turning your head, trying to shield yourself from a possible hit or a burn.

Seeing your reaction, Rafayel’s expression immediately softened. His hand dropped to his sides, and felt the sting of regret and concern pierce through his frustrations. He realized the impact of his actions so he steps forward with a sense of urgency, his heart pounding with a mix of worry and desperation. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you to reassure his need for you.

You nestled into his chest but your body remained tense from the argument’s intensity. “Cutie…You know I would never hurt you, right?” His voice was a mix of hurt and worry, trembling slightly as if his worst nightmare came true—losing you again. The thought of having you scared of him, after losing you once before, made him desperate to keep you in his embrace to prevent you from ever leaving him ever again.

He gently pulls away, his hands cupping your face with tenderness. His fingers stroked your cheeks softly and his gaze filled with a mixture of relief as he saw you relax against him. “You don't need to be scared,” He murmured, “I’m here to protect you. I promise I'll make it up to you.” The sincerity in his eyes and the gentle caress of his hands were a silent vow to ensure you felt safe and loved.

Later on that day he apologized in Glubglubnese, Popoposh, and Blublublun to start off by making it up to you.

Sylus:

You and Sylus had your fair share of arguments and you both always managed to talk things through and reach a compromise. This time, however, this disagreement delta relentless back-and forth that seemed to stretch on forever.

His scowl and the tone in his voice was unsettling. The room fell into an uneasy silence until Sylus brought a hand to his forehead, massaging his temples. At that moment, you made a mistake. To his hand raised, you flinched, fearing it was to use his evol on you or something worse. 

Instinctively, you crouched down and shielded yourself with your arms, overwhelmed by a wave of shame and fear. You knew deep down that he would never hurt you, but your  reflexes were too strong to ignore. With your face hidden, you missed the hurt and regret that clouded Sylus’s eyes. He took a deep breath, his voice softening as he stepped closer to you.

“Sweetie….” He says, his tone filled with sorrow. “Please, look at me.”

When you finally dared to meet his gaze, the intimidation was gone. He crouched down to your level, his expression soft and tender. He reached out, gently cupping your face and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He sighed in relief knowing you didn’t flinch this time when he approached you.

“I would never hurt you,” He extends his hand, helping you up to your feet. As you stood, he pulled you into a heartfelt embrace. “How could I ever do that to someone I love so deeply? I would never forgive myself.” You rested your head against his chest and the familiar scent of him enveloped you, soothing your nerves. Sylus’s hands moved gently through your hair and traced comforting circles on your back that offered a silent apology and reassurance. In that moment, the argument was forgotten and replaced of a sense of tenderness.

[chithereader]

l-o-v-e / aaron hotchner

part 2 to jealousy, jealousy!!!! word count: 2.1k pairing: aaron hotchner x f!bau!reader, shy!reader genre & cw: hotch being so in love!! jealousy plot, made-up case, and different use of cm character a/n: i got so much love for jealousy, jealousy it has been so surprising to me how much u guys loved it!! i really hope you enjoy this part 2 as we finally get some clarity to their feelings for each other!!

With your jaw slightly dropped, you manage to get out an “Uh..” Then you clear your throat as if that will make actual words come out then— “Uhh..” 

Now you didn’t know how long you were staring at Hotch. Yet somehow you were aware that the silence— your silence was stretching out for too long. Like a fish out of water, you continue to move your mouth soundlessly. 

And if you were actually underwater, you knew a series of air bubbles would come out in a line from your lips. 

Deep inside, Hotch was getting a little worried. That maybe he came on a little too strong. 

Was that too bold? Was that out of the blue? What if you think he’s joking? Or worse, what if you think he’s not taking you seriously? 

On the outside, Hotch is trying very hard to maintain his calm and collected composure, not letting too much emotion seep through his expression. Making sure he doesn’t look worried or too proud, too scared or too smug. 

The small smile on his face is one that he hopes to convey what he means: that he seriously likes you and that he doesn’t mean to embarrass you. But it is a smile that slowly fades the more he sees the panic growing in your eyes. 

Loud clapping shakes you both out of your individual worries as Derek teasingly cheers for the development in your romance— hooting and whooping about how the boss man has finally made his move. 

As if suddenly remembering that there are other people in the room, you both look around to check the other team members’ faces. 

To your surprise, Reid is blushing even more than you and Hotch are, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, Rossi is looking straight at Hotch with a smug grin. Raising his hands theatrically slow to clap painfully slow for his best friend. 

“My man.” Derek proudly says still clapping, and if he was brave enough to risk losing a hand tonight, he would have stood up to pat his boss on the back. 

Hotch shakes his head bashfully, cheeks turning increasingly red.  He looks down at his shoes to hide his face a bit, mumbling a low, “Shut up.” 

But Rossi being Rossi, was not gonna let the moment go, “I gotta say, Hotch, I didn’t think you’d ever do it…or anything actually.” 

Looking at Hotch, you start to giggle. He’s got his head facing the ceiling, acting playfully exasperated at his team’s antics. No doubt already regretting his public expression a little bit. 

But the laughter dies down into soft giggles, and he straightens a little to look at you. Catching your eye, you smile back at him softly, also hoping that he’d understand what you’re saying with that little smile. I like you too. Don’t worry, you didn’t embarrass me. 

Hotch’s worries are instantly quieted by your smile. Like dust settling on the ocean floor, he feels at peace. 

Your little staring moment though, is suddenly interrupted by his cell ringing. And the room’s mood sombers knowing that there can only be one reason someone will call one of your cells late at night— a new body was just found. 

—

It’s 7:00am and the sun has risen brightly. Reid and Rossi went to the ME with the body to further examine what’s been done. Meanwhile you, Morgan, Seaver and Hotch stay behind at the crime scene, knowing a fresh scene can tell you the most right now.

You’ve been staying close to Morgan as he theorizes the unsub’s movements. Following and coming up with theories of your own in terms of the order of the unsub’s entry and exit. 

But as much as you are focused on the case, you look at Hotch and Seaver every now and then, who are interviewing witnesses and authorities on the side. 

Hotch catches you looking at him and Seaver, just as Seaver holds on to his arm to fix the strap of her heel. You may have looked extra irritated but you’d blame it on the sun being on your face. 

Looking back at Derek who had gotten quiet, you find him smiling at you teasingly. Already aware of what you were just looking at— more like who. You roll your eyes at him, “Shut up, chocolate.”

Derek shakes his head as he laughs, taking his sunglasses from where it hung his shirt and wears it on you. 

“Calm down, Cyclops. You might just kill the two of them if you’re not careful.” 

You gasp at his audacity, watching his back as he walks away, not even giving you the chance to respond to his teasing. 

Not wanting to stare at his back any longer, you turn around to pick up right where you left off. Only to have the fright of your life seeing Hotch right in front of you. 

With a hand on your chest you catch your breath, “Oh my god! How even—“ One second he’s more than 6 feet away from you, the next second he’s not even 4 inches from you. 

Your heart beats even faster as Hotch’s hands reach up to your face to remove Derek’s sunglasses. “Morgan!”, he shouts and tosses Derek his glasses. 

Derek catches it instinctively and looks to the both of you in confusion, but Hotch looks back at you and takes his own sunglasses off his face to wear it on you. 

Seaver watches all of this unfold from behind Hotch, and you could see it annoyed her. But she puffs her chest and turns to the people she and Hotch were talking to, continuing the interviews they were conducting. 

— 

Now during the case, obviously there wasn’t really any time for you and Hotch to discuss the romance brewing between the two of you. Absolutely no time to indulge in personal matters at a time where other people’s lives depended on you. 

But that’s not to say that Hotch has not followed up his advances with more actions. Not at all— the complete opposite actually. 

He has only become increasingly affectionate and bolder with his actions. He seems to have given up on holding himself back around you. He’s constantly sitting beside you, placing his hand on your lower back as you walk, then he stands behind you constantly towering over you whenever, wherever. 

He’s even given you his handkerchief multiple times so you could wipe your sweat, and when you guys ordered takeout for the night, he made sure to unpack yours for you and hand you your utensils, even standing to get you water from the pantry before he even touches his food. 

He’s been crazy sweet and even more protective than usual, you almost didn’t need words to confirm how he feels about you… if it weren’t for Seaver who has also gotten bolder with her advances towards Hotch. Then I mean, maybe a little reassurance would be nice. 

It seems as if the recent development in yours and Hotch’s romance was something Seaver saw as a challenge- a hurdle she has to get over to win Hotch. 

Annoying you even more, when she arrived at the precinct the next day wearing a revealing top and tight pencil skirt. She looked good, you had to admit. 

Looking down at your own attire, with jeans, boots, and a plain shirt. You felt a little defeated. Obviously you weren’t going to attract Hotch being this plain. 

But you also wanted to be ready. The team was closing in on the unsub who has become more and more erratic, you could almost predict a chase and maybe even a tussle. 

You were standing beside Reid, looking at the board trying to uncover a pattern in the unsub’s dump sites when you heard an agitating little voice say, “Hotch, I think my top unbuttoned at the back. Could you get it for me?”

Tension instantly brews. The team, who has caught on to Seaver’s ploy early on, awaits your reaction. You could feel their gazes on your back, even from Reid who you could feel checking on you from the corner of his eye from where he stands to your right.

But you refuse to give in. You continue- more like pretend to- analyze the map on the board. Even tilting your head a little to sell that you’re really not paying attention to the two. However in all honesty, all your other senses are very much attuned to whatever’s happening behind you. 

Rossi cleared his throat, making you check the room’s reflection on the window on your left through the corner of your eye. And you watch as Seaver turns in her seat away from Hotch, anticipating him leaning close and putting his hands on her. 

Now you thought that since Hotch had an idea about how Seaver makes you feel, that he’d keep his distance. You know, set those boundaries to appease you. But to your surprise, Hotch leans over the distance between his chair and hers, and reaches over to button her top. 

You could feel your face heating up. You don’t know if he simply didn’t care, if he was oblivious, or if he did it on purpose. But now was not the time to act up and make a big deal out of something so trivial. You were all so close to catching the unsub, you poured your focus on the case instead. 

But you need a moment to yourself, maybe a little fresh air or even a pep talk in the bathroom mirror will do. Just as you were about to excuse yourself stepping back from the board, you hear Hotch close the file he was reading- before he was interrupted- loudly. 

His stern voice soon follows, “Just a little advice, Agent Seaver: if you’re assigned to the field, dress like it. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about buttons popping or heels snapping while you’re chasing an unsub or racing to save someone’s life.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to. Their reflection on the window was blurry enough that you couldn’t make out their facial expressions, so when you hear Hotch’s stern voice your head snaps to look at him in surprise, not expecting him to be annoyed at Seaver given that he’d just helped her. 

You almost feel bad for Seaver who’s turning red in embarrassment. She’d obviously put together an outfit for Hotch. You all knew she was an outstanding agent, so to jeopardise her performance for a man’s attention seemed weird even for her. 

–

To your surprise, her advances towards Hotch did not stop even after his dig at her unprofessionalism. 

As you were all boarding a jet well into the night, exhausted from the long case, you all noticed Seaver subtly rushing to sit first. Unsurprisingly, she chose the seat beside Hotch’s usual seat. Acting normally, she pulled out a blanket settling in her seat. 

But Hotch, who has been behind you the whole time, was just shadowing your movements. The most exhausted out of all of you, he wasn’t even thinking about where he’ll sit. He was blindly following you like a puppy, with a hand on your waist as if to not get lost. 

He was actually just waiting for you to sit somewhere, then he’d sit beside you. So you chose a couple-seat on the far end of the jet, away from Seaver. Neither of you have the energy to deal with her antics. 

In a last attempt to get Hotch to her, Seaver calls out “Hotch, I saved you your seat!”, even opening up her arms that are covered by the blanket as if to invite him to her warmth. 

But Hotch only looks at her silently, blinking. Then in less than 10 seconds, Hotch takes your hand, intertwines it with his, kisses yours softly, and crosses his arms as he closes his eyes to sleep- leaving your hand somewhat trapped to his body. 

You’re surprised at the bluntness of his affection, considering most of your team members were looking at you after Seaver called him out. 

Stealing a glance at Seaver, you catch her shoulders drop before she settles back into her seat, while Morgan mouths to you “Told you,” from across her. 

Turning your head to look at Hotch, you can tell he isn’t asleep yet though his eyes are closed. You squeeze the hand intertwined with yours, trying to get it out of his grip and crossed arms– he opens his eyes to look at you and softly whines, “Stoopp.”

“Hey!” you whisper. 

He breathes out a grumpy, “What?” to which you smile softly and say, “Fine. I guess I’m your girl.” 

here's my masterlist!

[httpwintersoldier]

opla men hc || you tease them with a short skirt

ᴢᴏʀᴏ ; ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ ; ʟᴜғғʏ ; sᴀɴᴊɪ ; sʜᴀɴᴋs ; ʙᴜɢɢʏ

ᴄᴡ: ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ

ᴢᴏʀᴏ

⤷ when zoro sees you parading around with that skirt hanging dangerously close to your ass cheeks, a whirlwind of emotions goes through him

⤷ he wants to stand behind you to cover you so no one else can see the way your ass revealed slightly when you walked, he wanted to lift it slightly and get a better look, he wanted to pick you up, carry you to his bedroom and fuck you senseless...

⤷ so many scenarios and all he could do was silently play the scenarios in his head over and over as he shamelessly stared at your ass

⤷ it all changed when zoro noticed you'd bend down only when he was watching, you'd sway your hips playfully and bounce back and forth jiggling your ass on purpose

⤷ you were teasing him

⤷ once zoro puts 2 and 2 together he just chuckles

⤷ the swordsman comes behind you, grips your waist and pulls your ass against his growing erection

⤷ "I'm gonna love to see this during the rest of the day, because I'm not fucking or touching you until you're on your knees, begging"

ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ

⤷ the second you step out in the miniskirt mihawk smirks

⤷ he instantly knew what you were doing, and smirked - mihawk found it... amusing

⤷ the man loved to see how hard you tried to bend over and expose your ass, desperately trying to get a reaction out of him

⤷ mihawk enjoyed how hard you were working to get his attention

⤷ most of all, he did love the view - the way the skirt almost gave him a look of your pretty panties huggung your ass beautifully...

⤷ "once you've had enough of teasing me, do meet me in my room, it's my turn now"

ʟᴜғғʏ

⤷ luffy is oblivious to what you're trying to do, but either way he doesn't care because he was too focused blatantly staring at your ass

⤷ his eyes were glued to your rear, often brushing against the bits of your cheeks that peeked out of the small piece of fabric

⤷ luffy doesn't care who's watching, if he wants it he gets it, so if he wants to grab your ass, he will

⤷ you didn't think luffy would sneak his hands under your skirt and grab your ass, but he did, several times

⤷ it made it hard for you to maintain your composure, especially when he wrapped his arms around you and laid his head on your ass, sneeaking a couple bites in

⤷ he will get very protective, whiny and jealous if he sees other people looking as well though

⤷ "I think I wanna try some new stuff, y/n"

sᴀɴᴊɪ

⤷ he didn't even care that you were teasing him

⤷ sanji's hands were all over you the whole day, groaning in your ear and whispering praises and dirty things every time he passed by you

⤷ he would find any and every reason to come behind you and brush his crotch against your ass

⤷ would definitely pull you into a dark corner in the middle of the day and fuck you from the back against a wall while he covered your mouth so no one could hear you

⤷ sanji would cum on your panties and make you walk around with his cum sticking to your pussy

⤷ "how many rounds do you think you can handle, my love?"

sʜᴀɴᴋs

⤷ shanks loves it

⤷ he obviously knows what you're doing and you knew he'd catch on so you're not exactly discrete with your plans either

⤷ shanks would make little sexual comments here and there (and would praise you equally as much)

⤷ he wouldn't mind the constant boner throughout the day because he'd love the show you'd be putting on for him

⤷ the man would absolutely love to see the way your crotch squeezed in between your legs when you bent over (and he would definetily tug your panties to the side to "take a peek" while you bent down)

⤷ ass smacks the whole damn time

⤷ will be thinking of all the ways to fuck you at the end of the day and will make sure to whisper all of them to you

⤷ "I'm gonna fuck you for the exact ammount of time you've been teasing me for, how does that sound?"

ʙᴜɢɢʏ

⤷ oh buggy loves it

⤷ he doesn't even care that you're teasing him

⤷ buggy loves it when you put on a show for him and he loves it even more if you do it in front of others - he wants to show off how lucky he is, how he gets to fuck someone so beautiful and only he can do it

⤷ he would groan at the sight of you asscheeks and panties

⤷ buggy would beg you to sit on his lap while he was on his throne

⤷ the Captain would praise you constantly as he caressed your body and admired the way your ass sat against his cock

⤷ you'd end up riding him on the throne

⤷ and after he'd cum in you he would just wrap his arms around you and have you cockwarm him

⤷ "where can I find more of these pretty skirts? We need to get you some more..."

[stellarsecrets86]

Astro Observations 7:

Darkest placements in the birth chart

Readings Are Open. Here

(There are souls that don't just live—they survive, devour, and then rise from their graves.But some of them are touched by the Sun, others molded from shadow, and if any of those parts belong to your soul, no easy life should be your calling. You came to this earth for something a little bit hard, unsmiling, untouched, and all raw.You don't feel. You drown, you burn, you erupt-you consume. And if you learn to control your darkness, the world won't know what hit it.)

☉ Pluto conjunct Sun: Very tired of this transformation game, no? But let me give you two choices, one the younger you where people were mean to you, bullying you just for existing, other one the current you where devil won't even dare to look into your eyes. Which one will you choose? You aren't soft. You were birthed into fire, forced to survive it, and now you wield it like a blade. People fear you because they should. You don't just walk into a room-you change its gravity. You don't break, you don't bend. When you fall, you rise stronger, sharper. You are death and rebirth wrapped in skin.

☽ Lilith conjunction Moon: Darkness follows you, but it does not define you. You were never supposed to be fragile. You were supposed to be raw and primitive, a force of nature. You feel hard, love hard, exist unapologetically. They can say you are difficult, too much, too wild. They fear what they cannot control, and they will never control you. Mother's wound is deep. Female love feels conditional.

☽ Pluto opposite Moon: Your emotions are war zones. You feel it all, like an intensity that would decimate another's soul. Love is a war zone, trust a gamble, safety an illusion. People want to tame you, drown your depths in shallow waters. People will try to tame you, to drown your depths in shallow waters. Don't let them. Your emotions are your power, your fire, your truth.

☽ Saturn square Moon: You weren't nurtured, you were tested. You learned early that love had conditions, and warmth was something you earned, not an entitlement. Yet, you're steel wrapped in flesh, every wound a layer of armor, so you won't need any saving. You are the fortress, the survivor, the one who keeps standing long after all the rest fell.

♀ Medusa opposite Venus - You're feared for the thing that makes you beautiful. You're desired, possessive, and yet untamed. They'll seek to tame the thing about you that has become a gift to them-a strength-into a curse. You were never intended to be soft. You were intended to be powerful.

♂ Mars conjunct Pluto: There's war in your bones. Rage like a storm, power like a reckoning. People feel you before they see you. You don't ask for control-you take it. You don't seek destruction-but when you burn, there is nothing left but ash. Be careful with your fire; not everyone is built to survive it.

☉ Medusa conjunct Sun : Betrayed, exiled, and feared, you have lived the life of a villain in other people's stories without doing anything and you were crucified for being alive. Well, they only sharpened you, made you stronger. And now you're a legend. A force which will never be forgotten.

☉ Lilith conjunct Sun: They tried to silence you, to mold you, to break you. But you are untamed, ungovernable. A wildfire disguised as a person. You don't just take up space-you command it. Your existence alone is an act of defiance. Let them fear you. Let them whisper. You were never meant to belong, you were meant to lead.

♆ Neptune opposition Pluto: Your soul is ancient, stretched between illusion and revelation. You are the priest and the heretic, the mystic and the destroyer. People underestimate you, thinking you are lost in dreams. But you see through them. You see through everything. You are the keeper of secrets, the destroyer of lies.

♂ Lucifer conjunct Mars: Against all, you rebelled in heaven and forged your own paths. The arrogance appears to those who never know the fire, the hunger, or need to be something else entirely other than a mere follower-yourselves the leader, a revolution in action.

♀ VENUS SQUARE PLUTO: Love is not soft. It is hunger, an obsession to devour. You don't need to connect-you need to own, completely submit. Your love will change or it will destroy. You attract the broken and dangerous, those who see your fire and believe they can contain it. They can't.

♂ Mars opposite Saturn: An animal caged. A chained soldier. The hunger to fight is there, the power to break free, but something is holding you down- authority, karma, fate. Yet, it's patience that became your weapon. You weren't meant to have small fights in the first place. By the time you explode, this is for something far bigger-some world-shaking event.

♀ PERSEPHONE CONJUNCT PLUTO: You have been taken by the darkness, shaped by it, but you did not become it. You are both the queen and the captive, the innocent and the ruler. You walk between two worlds, and you hold the power of both.

☿ Mercury square Pluto: Your words don't just cut, they eviscerate. You see through people, their lies, their fears, their weaknesses. You don't waste time on small talk because you know that the truth is always buried beneath the surface. Be careful, your words can either heal or destroy. There is no in-between.

☽ Hekate conjunct Moon : You dream in prophecy. You feel the shift of energies before they materialize. You are the guide, the torchbearer, the one who sees what others refuse to acknowledge. The unknown is your home, and darkness does not make you afraid.

☉ URANUS OPPOSITE SUN: Lightning in human form. Born to break the system down, tear down walls, and be that disruption no one saw coming. The people say you're a rebel, but only because they cannot control you. You don't take the path; you make your own. And when the world catches up? You're already gone.

♀ NESSUS SQUARE VENUS: Love is entangled in the karmic cuts, echoes of betrayal, and obsession for you. You attract the ones who covet your light yet cannot retain it and those teaching you about pain before teaching love. But man, when you break free.you'll know a love nobody's gonna be able to take from you.

☽ Chiron square Moon: Pain is your mother tongue. You learned suffering before you learned love. But in your scars, something is divine. You are the healer, the guide, the one who walks through hell and comes back with maps. You were meant to hurt-but you were also meant to transcend.

☉ Nemesis opp Sun: You are karma incarnate. A reckoning. The one who unmasks the false kings, corrupt rulers, those who build empires on lies. Some will fear you. Others will worship you. But all will know you.

♄ Saturn conjunct Pluto: Power built from ruin. You know struggle, oppression, the weight of expectation. You have been forced to carry burdens that were never yours. But your strength is absolute. You don't just endure-you dominate. You are the architect of your own empire, built from the ashes of every battle you've survived.

☿ Hekate conjunct Mercury: You carry the voices of the dead, the whispers of the unseen. A mind crossroads between worlds. Drawn to what's unknown and mysteries that others fear. Trust your intuition; it has never been wrong.

[If you possess these aspects, you are not average. You are not created to play small. Your darkness is your sword. Use it.]

🪱🦂

[astrotruther]

Astro placements that remind me of the 'archetypes' in Robert Greene's Art of Seduction

The gist of the book is that there are 9 types of people who attract our fancy, and if you look back upon your past relationships in which you had the hardest time getting over people, you'll find at least one of these archetypes had you in a chokehold. I've noticed certain placements embody these archetypes quite well. So let's get into it!

🧜‍♀️The Siren

Intense, all-consuming, irresistible. This is the kind of person who pulls you in just by existing. Their energy is sensual, they play with desire, and there's no hiding the fire behind their gaze.

Venus in Scorpio or Mars in Scorpio: These folks ooze mystery and magnetism. Venus or Mars here practically commands intense eye contact, a stare that feels like it's looking straight into your soul (and maybe reading all your secrets 👀).

Pluto in the 1st House: They have that come hither aura without even trying. Their presence is just heavy, dark, and intriguing.

Lilith aspects to Venus or Mars: Lilith knows how to channel that raw, primal energy that people can’t look away from.

🕶️The Rake

A flirt and unapologetically so. The Rake is playful, passionate, and knows how to make someone feel like they're the only person in the room. They thrive on thrilling their “prey.”

Mars in Aries: Direct, passionate, no games. Mars in Aries dives right in and doesn’t hold back, which makes people feel desired AF.

Venus in Gemini: Flirty, playful, always has the right words at the right time. They’ve got charm in every text, every look, every smirk.

Eros in the 3rd House: Eros here gets off on mental stimulation, knowing that once they can engage your mind, they can get you anywhere else too.😏

💐The Ideal Lover

Romantic, tender, understanding. They know just what you want and give it to you. There’s an aura of "I was made for you" about them that feels very movie-like.

Venus in Libra: Literally the ultimate lover. They’re charming, attentive, and all about creating harmony in love.

Neptune in the 7th House: They radiate dreamy, fairy-tale love vibes. It's a magnetic quality, and people project all kinds of fantasies onto them.

Psyche in the 1st House or conjunct Venus: Psyche brings an intuitive understanding of what people need emotionally, making them feel deeply seen.

🎭The Dandy

Unpredictable, a little bit of both masculine and feminine energy, and oh-so-daring. The Dandy doesn’t fit into any one box and totally thrives on that.

Uranus in the 1st House: Think uniqueness and uncontainable vibes. They attract attention without even trying and aren’t afraid to stand out.

Venus in Aquarius: Experimental in love, unconventional, and so full of quirks. They might dress edgy, embrace their quirks, and draw people in through pure originality.

Mars in Libra: Balances both masculine and feminine energy perfectly. Their way of pursuing people is soft yet firm, and they’re never boring.

🌱The Natural

Effortlessly cute, innocent, and unassuming. They have this way of making everyone around them feel at ease and seen. They’re playful without trying too hard, which gives a refreshing sense of authenticity.

Moon in Cancer or Venus in Cancer: They radiate warmth and gentleness. People feel safe around them and are easily drawn to their nurturing vibe.

Venus in the 5th House: This Venus placement is playful and creative, attracting people through sheer joyfulness and a love for fun.

Ceres in the 1st or 7th House: Ceres has that caring, supportive energy that makes people feel genuinely seen and loved.

🕸️The Coquette

They play hard to get, with a bit of push-pull energy. They leave people wanting more and keep others on their toes. Coquettes are experts in creating mystery.

Venus in Virgo: They might come off reserved at first, but their attention to detail and small gestures make people feel special.

Moon in Scorpio: They keep their emotions under wraps, drawing others in by only showing glimpses of their deeper self.

Juno in the 12th House: They’re commitment-focused but mysterious about it, leaving people to wonder if they’ll ever fully understand them.

💃The Charmer

Smooth, sociable, a lover of people. Charmers win over others with their adaptability and attentiveness, making everyone feel like they’re the most fascinating person in the room.

Sun in Libra: Naturally sociable and harmonious, they know just how to appeal to people’s desires and make everyone feel at ease.

Mercury in the 7th House: Skilled at reading people and adapting to them. They know how to say the right thing at the right time.

Aphrodite in the 1st or 10th House: Aphrodite brings allure and grace to their public presence. When they walk into a room, people notice; they just want to look, like they’re drawn to a work of art.

🌟The Charismatic and The Star

Radiates confidence and star quality. They draw people in with the sheer force of their presence and charisma. This type doesn't even need to try—they just shine.

Sun in Leo: Confident, warm, and charismatic. Leo Suns love to be adored and know just how to work a crowd.

Jupiter in the 1st House: Jupiter expands their presence, making them seem larger-than-life and totally magnetic.

Pallas in the 5th House: With Pallas here, they’re strategic about how they present themselves, drawing people in with skillful, playful interactions.

✰ That's it folks! I hope you all can find your placements somewhere in there and feel empowered and confident in your charisma.

Help Palestinians:

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[n0tamused]

a proud elf fucker has come to disturb ur peace bbygurl smug tiktok emoji

so,,,, humans are more openly affectionate and touchy-touchy compared to the elves right? hand holding, smooching ur friends’ forehead or cheeks for good luck or saying goodbye or when showing u have missed each other or an arm around the other’s waist when comfortably sitting beside each other and chatting.

how would the elves react to this? like a human s/o (before courting) who is just generally so,,,,,,, affectionate (i dunno how many characters you would accept pookie but im mainly thinking of thranduil, legolas, feren and lindir for this)

expect me more in ur inbox pookie😚(a threat)

A/n: Come by my door again and I will throw you out (a warm meal awaits you inside). This is more of a ramble than really my usual headcanons that I do for characters. A reminder again - but I am a bit rusty with writing for these characters, so this is me rambling about them so I can explore them better. Unapologetically longer part for Legolas bc he is my bbg. Didn't do Feren for this one, but I hope to add his part on this prompt in the future. Hope you enjoy pookie!

Contents: Thranduil, Legolas, Lindir x GN!Reader (separate), fluff. not proof-read so expect grammar mistakes (very scary)

Words: 1471

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Thranduil

-Listen- Thranduil is hard to reach, he’s a tough nut to crack as one may say, and he is quite distrustful of strangers, but this is not a scenario where you’re a stranger to him, oh no. 

-While you have caught the interest of the elven king and as his knowledge is ever so deep on both elven customs and that of man, he can’t say he has ever indulged in the human customs quite so much. You sort of make him want to indulge in it all. 

-Thranduil is not the one to hastily discard his public image and reputation for the sake of a fleeting touch of fingers or a graze of your lips across his cheek in a farewell bidding, yet seeing you do so with your company with which you travel with makes him think.

-For a mind that has seen so many centuries and so many faces, you have made him feel as if the memories of friends of old and strangers came before his eyes only in preparation to see you. Quite weird, but it is what his mind makes him think. Were you sent to his path for a reason?

-And where do you get your baldness from, to try and touch him so easily? What makes you think that is proper? When have you become so brazen when just yesterday you seemed to struggle with speaking to him formally? 

-He does request your company alone from time to time, walks through the woods and dinnertime especially, and this opens way for more privacy and attempts at intimacy.

-Here, you’d find him more forgiving at accepting your advances

-He is still getting used to the feel which your hands leave behind after gripping his own hand or his arm, or the tug at his sleeve the poke of your fingers at his side - yet he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. It’s such a small change in his life, but it feels surreal to experience it all the same when he is so used to the generally the same routine and schedule, especially in his relations with others. 

-At the end of the journey of your outing, he’d return the gestures with one of his own, one a bit more subtle than yours, but he makes sure his kisses on your knuckles linger

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Legolas

-Humans are touchy, yes, Legolas has witnessed much of this displayed affection since he departed Mirkwood for his journeys, but what he felt when he saw all of it wasn’t shock or disgust like some of his peers felt when they saw these “crude and hasty customs” - rather he felt some longing instead, a yearning.

-He craves a close connection too, but he is hopeless in seeking it out in the world of mortals and he is a bit without a clue on how to develop such a closeness with someone. He wasn’t raised in a place where emotions are foreign, but as established before - human and elven customs do differ, and they both perceive emotions and displays of it differently. You can say Legolas fits a bit more into whatever human ways are of expressing emotions. Firm hand holds and tight hugs instead of brush of fingers and longing looks during long periods of courting. Man, Legolas just craves a strong friendship, let alone a relationship

-I think it would be safe to say Legolas is touch-starved in his own right, simply put

-So when you come along, and you both click as companions? He is quite happy to put it lightly. I don’t think there is an adequate term that can summarize his elven giddiness when he simply sees you being openly affectionate with your friends, he feels a sense of belonging since you are not a stranger he observed, but someone he has come to understand too. He knows your name, your story, what you do and don’t like

-Yet this doesn’t prepare him for when you show the same affection to him as well. Suddenly all lectures and elven courting rules and traditions come pouring in his head all within a blink of an eye and it is the first time you have seen him look so taken aback. 

-He doesn’t reject your advances however, he’s much more accepting of them than his father, and it is just you and your shared small company, sometimes not even them, that get to see this exchange. He is.. giddy, quite happy.

-It feels fulfilling sharing in the affections, although he is much more reserved than you by quite a lot - he tries though. He’d still absolutely love it if you accepted his proposal of courting, so he can court you properly and as you deserve. Please let him he is on the edge of his seat, he is about to fall off waiting

-Despite what he feels and how human his smiles and expressions have become since you began to pay him this attention, he is patient, he moves at a slower pace than you and he is your grounding rock when you become too hasty

-It is not a rare sight to see him draping his cloak around you, or - at your request - see him sitting next to you huddled under the same cloak or a blanket by the fire. Coziest he has ever been tbh…

-In some summary - your hands are held gently, your brows are kissed tenderly and you are well taken care of with him around

-(Please send me more Legolas thoughts or requests I love my bbg sm)

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Lindir

-Now this one is a little more dense. Denser than the Elven King? I hear you ask, and I say to you - possibly.

-Now, correct me if I am wrong, but he isn’t exactly too old, by elvish standards of course. He is relatively young by their norms, and has spent a lot of his time in Rivendell, serving Lord Elrond

-A very personal headcanon, take it or leave it, but he is even younger than Legolas.

-Anyhow, Lindir is quite dutiful in his work and doesn’t accept it comfortably when new energies are introduced to his environment. He can get quite skittish and tense when things aren’t going according to some mental plan he has set out in his mind, or even worse - if the events aren’t following a plan shared by him and the others. He is very keen on sticking to this familiarity of routine and stagnancy, in some way.

-So, note his surprise when you stick around and worm your way into his daily schedule.

-For a long while he swore to himself up and down how he will never get used to you, perhaps if you grew as old as he then he might, but your life was a flicker in comparison to his own

-He is even more surprised and confused when he sees himself looking for too long at you sharing hugs with your friends, bidding them goodbye and safe travels by kissing them hard on the forehead and trying to..wrestle them? What an odd thing to do to your friends..

-He is more baffled when you attempt to do the same to him. How could you?!

-He is an elf, an elf with standards!

-An elf with standards which you break through anyway since you’re so..infectious. Lindir had the funny thought, although it was a bit unsettling to him at the moment, that he was sick or fading/dying.

-In the days and months following, it took much effort to finally see the fruit of your labor. Lindir was finally, although still slowly, opening up to just spending more time with you instead of going by his strict routine that he played on repeat.

-He doesn’t sit three feet away from you anymore, but rather two and a half.. Not literally, of course, but the distance between you seems like it is miles with the way he sometimes acted in the beginning of these outings with you.

-The distance surely shrinks until he is actually next to you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he traces a small scar there which you claim you earned in your childhood. By elvish standards, humans are nowhere near perfection, but his thoughts have begun to change, and he no longer sees perfection in the standards he was raised with, but rather he sees it in you. Each little thing that separates you from another, and little by little he begins to sow you into his memory.

-He isn’t the best at remembering mortal souls, they all pass by quickly, but you linger and linger and he doesn’t want you to not linger. Linger with him by the fountain, will you? Let him ask you questions to distract himself from the fact your hand embraced his?

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[unriding]

sweetest cy … it is 12 when this posts !! so of course, i get to post this heh!! thank you for such a sweet gift … i have left a little ( <- little? hm ) message for you below !! i am so so very sorry for the length ><

rb 1 / 2 :

cy … i have just finished reading it and my heart is beating a thousand times a minute !! are you serious — ARE YOU SERIOUS /pos because how will i type coherent tags when such a kind gift has already brought me to tears ( countless times !! the amount of breaks i needed to wipe my tears so i could read the rest of it sisnjdjxj ) THOUGH … at the same time ,, i was so red reading this !!! >//////< exactly like this !!! AGHH i really don’t even know where to start !! 🥺 perhaps i will type out a message to *you* first cy !!

thank you ???!! <- what a severe understatement, but i don’t know what other phrase i could even use to express my gratitude T T i know you have been so very busy lately ): i know you’ve been swamped to the point of not resting enough … so i just want to give you a huge hug and pause time to let you rest !!! but the fact that you did such a thing for :’) me :’) when you’re already so busy just makes my heart so ?! IM SO TOUCHED ??? you did not need to !! ): and you did !! I LOVE YOU !!! though aside from this, i’ve seen you making your way to inboxes and giving sweet to tags to fics and everything — you are so kind cy ): !!

i love you. you have so much love in your heart and i know everyone’s face just lights up when they see you on the dash — and i am the same way ^^ also .. we must talk about your writing since i have a small inkling i will use the 30 tags to scream /pos sjsndjkdkdk i have mentioned this before, but i adore your writing style !! it flows so nicely and reads sooooo smoothly i just ?! can see myself reading any amount of words from you in one sitting because of how nicely you write !! also .. you said moze might be ooc but i thought he was so in character 🥺 oh i adore your writing …..

𝕄𝕠𝕫𝕖 𝕩 𝔽𝕖𝕞!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

heaven is a place on earth with you

Synopsis: Moze goes shopping to purchase something for a certain someone. What on earth could that be? And who is he giving it to? Read to find out!

Word Count: 2.6k | Reading Time: 15 minutes

Note: Reader is referred with she/her pronouns and mentioned to be wearing a dress. I do not claim to know this character a 100%. I am writing him based off the voice lines and a some of the lore that I know about him.

A bead of sweat begins to form on the elderly shopkeeper's temple. His gaze weary towards the grey-haired man before him. After all, Moze has yet to say anything in the past half-hour while intensely gazing down on the merchandise the shopkeeper has presented him. A hand on his hip while the other brushes lightly against his lips. His brows furrowed and lips pursed tightly.

What kind of merchandise could possibly cause such distress towards both Moze and the elderly? Well, the answer is actually quite simple: jewelry.

Oh, but not just any jewelry.

On the far right, there is a pair of earrings. Elegantly furled out petals that have a striking resemblance to wings with pearls of varying sizes at the very base, silver chains dangle with matching pearls. Next to that is a gold chain bracelet with a moon at the very center as the pendant accompanied by a pair of stars on either side. A constellation of tiny jewels from around the moon; it resembles that of the Capricorn. And lastly— a necklace. Silver chains with pearls in the softest shade of pink and white alternating to make a lovely pattern. Adjacent chains in between to showcase a gem shaped like a teardrop to complement the beads. And at the very center of it rests a dangling chain adorned with similar pearls and a small ribbon.

A part of him considered just buying all three of them. However, that may not get a positive feedback from the receiver. In all the while of knowing that person, he'd come to have a feeling that they'd feel flustered and guilty over such a purchase— even though it barely put a dent on his wallet. He'd rather not have them worry instead of enjoying the gift over his indecision. Though doubt did begin to eat away at his nerves the more that he stared at the jewelries before him. Questions begin plaguing his mind one after the other making his brows meet in frustration.

Would they even like any of these? Maybe they were too straightforward based on what he knew about them? Would they already have a plethora of similar items and prefer something new? What if they had recently changed their preferences with him unaware?

Moze lets out a disgruntled groan. The shopkeeper winces, worrying if he's somehow done something to displease the intimidating man before him (even though he's only stood there and kept to himself since presenting the items). Both of them were now comically distressed over the situation.

A moment later, Moze's phone vibrates.

Finally— his gaze averts from the assortment to fish out his phone. A message from Jiaoqiu. Target is on her way to the shopping district. He almost rolls his eyes at the term used. Although jokingly meant, still seemed quite crude considering his usual profession. Moze simply sends a single worded response before tucking the gadget back into his pocket.

With a final glance at the items, he takes a deep breath and finally chooses one. He hands it to the shopkeeper along with the strales to pay for it. The elderly man takes a relieved sigh, his shoulders sagging from the release of tension before turning to his side to neatly place it inside a box and tying a bow to keep it secure.

The moment that Moze receives it, he blends back into the shadows.

Hours later, the sun begins to set. Golden hues cast over the city to create a picturesque scene. Most of the people begin their march home to bid the day farewell. The streets are kept lit by the lamps and establishments either still open or only starting to. Moze lingers in the corner of the street as he watched the people pass him by. His mind wanders far off as he rehearses a few lines in his head over and over again. Making small changes and adding a few words every now and then. All this as he patiently awaits for a certain message—

Ding! Ding! Ding!

There it is.

He doesn't even bother checking his phone, he already knows what the content of it would be. It doesn't take long for him to make his way down the street towards a nearby restaurant. From the outside, it would seem closed. Doors shut tight while the lights of the halls are turned off, leaving it to a mystery what lies inside.

While approaching, he hears your voice.

Moze stops for a moment to spot you with Guinaifen and Sushang. There's a blindfold over your eyes while the two lead you towards the restaurant. A hand reached out to nothing as if grasping for air while Sushang held the other. Guinafen warns you about a rock you need to step over, which you oblige in making a dramatic step— despite there actually being nothing. Sushang lets out a laugh before playful chastising the street performer for her mischief. Though both of them apologize at the pout forming on your expression.

The sight has the edges of Moze's lips curling upwards. He turns his head away to enter the back of the restaurant. By the time he enters the main hall, he can hear the soft murmurs and gossip amongst the people inside. A few feet scuffle around as everyone gets in place to be ready. Hushes amongst each other echo when muffled voices can be overheard outside the restaurant. The entire hall turns silent as the doors creak open.

Light from the street lamps illuminates three frames. Sushang lets go of your arm to shut the doors closed while Guinafen makes quick work of the blindfold over your eyes. The two of them step away from you to join in with the others in the dark, leaving you to let your eyes adjust to the lack of lighting.

Both of your hands reach out before you as you call out to the two girls. You take a step— and the lights turn on, the tip of your foot getting caught in the carpet, causing you to stumble forward. A small squeal slips past your lips as you feel your body falling. Moze catches on, his body moving before he could think. It only takes a fraction of a second before he catches you.

"Happy Birthday!"

Voices synchronized in greeting. Party poppers echo throughout the room. Colorful paper confetti sway in the air. Pastel colored ornaments decorate the walls of the restaurant matched with balloons and ribbons. Dearest friends stand around with party hats over their heads.

Though details of that can come later, no? What draws your attention the most is the man right in front of you. His familiar scent fills your senses. Your face buried against his chest. Gloved hands on your shoulders to help balance you, he makes sure to avoid scratching you with the sharp steel in one hand. The steady beat of his heart is pressed against your ear.

Oh, how lovely you looked in Moze's eyes.

You tilt your head enough to meet his gaze, and it's enough for that steady heartbeat of his to falter. He swallows, fingers twitching as if to refrain himself from tucking that stray lock of hair behind your ear. In that moment, it vaguely occurs to him to give you a greeting, but all he manages to do is part his lips—

"Okay, lovebirds!" Jiaoqiu announces with a clap of his hand, "You can have your moment with her later, Moze. Settle with sharing her with us for now."

Moze furrows his brows and casts his glance at the fox for those words while you pull away with cheeks stained a pinkish hue. The others chime in to steal you away for the festivities even if for a moment. Loved ones taking turns to greet you for the special occasion as the night goes on for the celebration.

Throughout the trickling hours of the party, Moze keeps an eye on you. Catching glimpses of you speaking with the others. Opening the variety of gifts they've prepared for you. Cheering on Guinafen along with the others who perform on a makeshift stage. All of them enjoying the food and drinks laid out on the table.

In the midst of the raucous event, he catches your silhouette slipping through the crowds to make way for the stairs. Nobody seems to have noticed it just yet. The weight of the box tucked safely in his pocket urges him to follow after you. He keeps in mind to do it discreetly in hopes to have a moment with you. The fluttering of your dress just before you make turns along the building is all that he sees as he catches up without you noticing. Eventually, your path leads you to the balcony of the building.

The sight before him has him stopping in his tracks.

How kind of the moon to grace you with such elegant hues of her light. Your frame basks in the soft glow of it. Silken strands of hair shine akin to the finest silk as the evening breeze plays with wisps of your hair. There's a warm smile on your lips that's a sharp contrast to the coldness of the night. Perhaps all that was left would be a halo hanging over your head and wings to sprout behind your back for him to believe you'd secretly been a halovian this entire time. You kept your gaze on the celestial bodies painting the sky; all he could see was you.

A cold breeze rushes past, a shiver runs through your body from it. Your arms fold across your chest while the palm of your hands rub warmth into your own frame. A chuckle slips past your lips, accompanied by the fall of your expression as you mutter how you should have brought a jacket with you.

"Here," Moze snaps out of his daze to shrug off his hoodie and placing it over your shoulders. "It'll help with the cold."

You tense up at the brush of his fingers against your shoulders, your eyes wide at his sudden appearance. It takes a moment before you relax and hold the hoodie closer to you. The smile you wear seems to be wider than it was earlier as warmth begins to spread through your cheeks as well.

"Thank you." Your voice a gentle dulcet he'd never tire of. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"It's not expected for the celebrant to be away from the party either." Moze responds, taking his position beside you.

Your eyes flicker to the evening sky, and how beautiful it looked with all the dazzling stars and the moon full. What a lovely scene, no? And yet Moze kept his gaze steady on you. Taking in the sight of how the sky seemed to reflect in your eyes. Though he didn't want to make you uncomfortable with his staring, he looks to the sky as well. Only ever sneaking glimpses of you in your direction whenever he thinks you won't notice.

Small talk is exchanged between the two of you. Trivial events that have occurred throughout the day until now. Musing over the party that still rages on below despite the late hour. All the foods and gifts you've received are placed safely far from the crowd. Soft chuckles and easy glances are exchanged every so often. The noise of the festivities downstairs lulls into a soft hum in the background. With only the two of you in the balcony, it almost seemed like that moment was truly yours and his alone.

Moze takes in a deep breath— it falters by a fraction when you let out a hum to face him. Your eyes meet his, and somehow that's all he can think of. All the words he'd practiced the entire afternoon slipped past him like a shadow shying away from the sun. The seconds that pass by almost seem like a lifetime before he clears his throat to pull out something from his pocket.

"A gift." His tone would almost sound dull if it weren't for the hesitation in his voice.

In the palm of his hand rests a white box with a pink ribbon at the very top. He nudges it closer to you as if reassuring that it's yours to take. And you do. Your fingers brush against his as you hold the box in your hands, keeping it secure as though you're afraid the wind would steal it away from you. Moze drinks in every expression and detail that dances on your expression.

You glance back and forth between him and the gift as you tug on the end of the ribbon. Its silken material loosens and is undone swiftly, leaving only the box. Finally, you take off the lid of the box to reveal its content.

Inside rests a necklace. It was the choice Moze had made among the three earlier. The moonlight shines down on the item, casting an iridescent glow to it. Your eyes shine the same way the gems reflect the moon's glow. You lift your gaze to Moze, as if silently asking for reassurance it truly was yours and not some mistake he'd made. He nods.

It's yours.

"May I?" Moze gestures a hand over the item, gently picking it up before stepping behind you. He unclasps the hook of it and waits for you to sweep your hair aside. Once done, he places the accessory around your neck, the tips of his fingers brush against your skin. An accidental caress yet feels far too delicate and gentle to be a phantom's touch. He secures the necklace in place, tugging on it once before retracting his fingers.

He takes a step back and you tidy yourself a bit, letting your fingers feel the weight that rests on your neck. It wasn't heavy at all. Simply that the fact that the man beside you had been the one to give you such a thing was enough to remind you of its value. The pinkish hue on your cheeks resembles the dainty pearls around your neck.

How the way your face lights up makes him forget that it was still evening— Moze is unsure. All he knows is the gratitude he felt towards himself for choosing that gift for you. That you've come to appreciate such a small thing that the smile on your face was bright enough to sear itself into the back of his eyelids. So that even as he closes his eyes, he'll see this moment vividly with his eyes wide open.

Moze's feet move him closer to you before he could think better of it. His hand rests on top of yours, just right above where your racing heart resides. The back of his fingers brush against your cheek with such tenderness it could be reverent. His forehead rests against yours until your noses touch, and the warmth of his breath tickles your skin.

Close. Possibly far too close. Part of him warns to pull away lest he makes you uncomfortable. Just one more second. He almost voices out loud. Give him this one instance to be selfish. To let the growing greed in his heart that yearns for your proximity be sated just this once. Reprimand him afterwards— just don't despise him for it. His throat constricts, the words stuck in his throat. The way you look at him both serves as damnation and salvation to the man. How ironic is that? Enough to make a smile tug on his lips when he meets your gaze that is.

"Happy Birthday.”

VIP Taglist: @unriding

To the sweetest and kindest person on this hellsite! Happy Birthday, Evie! I hope you enjoyed this fic. Moze might be a little OOC but I tried my best. May you have an absolutely wonderful day ahead of you <3

I was actually stuck between putting this in your inbox or making a pdf file and sending it on disc. This was so fun to write that it shocked me seeing that it was over 2k words! I didn't think it'd be appropriate to send you that via inbox. But I don't really know how to edit on pdf to design it? Hence, I made a post abt it instead. Hope you don't mind? I'll still send you the file but it'll just be plain. Sorry!

[daisys-reality]

PAC: Is your DR S/O possessive? How does it show? ♡ ๑

general tarot reading disclaimers apply here. dividers were made by me, the boy drawings are from pinterest but edited by me. this is a reality shifting themed tarot reading and requested anonimously. for more tarot readings, check out my masterlist. now, think about your DR s/o, choose a cutie from above and read your pile below :)

[from pile one yuuji to pile five bakugo]

cutie one ♧

No. I think your connections is based on a strong friendship, some of you might even be childhood friends. There are already lots of memories made together, a strong bond, deep trust and a certain sense of innocence. I think being possessive over your partner (for your s/o) is a sign of mistrust, of fear of betrayal or of deep wounds that haven't been healed yet. I think only when they would reach rock bottom, in moments where they start fearing you leaving them, certain possessive traits would start showing but they wouldn't be proud of themself for it. If they start feeling possessive, you wouldn't even know, they'd be lowkey and subtle, doing or arranging things without you knowing or when you're not present to avoid situations that trigger them.

-> if you liked this reading and want to request another topic pls click here !! xoxo daisy ♡

cutie two ◇

Yes. Mhm... lots of insecurities and worries here... I think they fear losing what is precious to them and this is not an unfounded worry. Your s/o might have gone through really harsh times, times where they really ended up losing something that had a high value to them. It crushed them and they struggle with feeling really at peace and with acknowledging that you'll stay by their side... their possessive side might immediately show when you're out in a get-together/a gathering or a party - or maybe as soon as a third party is present or involved - no matter who or what it is. the intensity might differ a little for some of you guys' s/os though. They might even be quick to offer you commitment (ex. rush into moving in together, marrying etc - but they are serious about it!) just to get this feeling of security. They are not shy to show who you belong to in front of others and they are the type to spoil you rotten, give you all of their attention and to overindulge in you (they don't wanna leave you even for a second- and this might even surprise you because I feel like they try to play it cool in front of you but in their head there is CHAOS lol). I can also see them putting you on a pedestal, and writing cute little messages or letters and being really tender with you. "I'd die for you" - they're dramatic AF 😂

-> if you liked this reading and want to request another topic pls click here !! xoxo daisy ♡

cutie three ♤

Yes. First of all, you're DR s/o is very very passionate (18+) about you, they desire you so badly AND they can sometimes be quite a bit dominant. They like having control and you are something they would like to have all to themself. However, they have manners and they try to keep themself in check. they might be the type to like to be informed about what you do, when and with who, plan things for you, solve all your problems or/and provide financially for you, so you don't have to lift a finger. I feel like most of you might enjoy this "someone taking control in the relationship" but for others it might be something you're not really used to (yet) …maybe because of trust issues on your end? To them, you're such a temptation, they are emotionally really attached to you - like they've never been before and it makes them unusually sensitive. They might have some emotional immature moments with you just because they can't get enough of you and it feels like they are not so experienced with "love" and dating in general. their desire and their possessiveness sometimes get to their head, clouding their mind. but they're always working hard to get your approval "please, let me take care of you" and treasure everything about you (they'd even frame your doodles lol). while dealing with others, they might come off very arrogant - trying to scare any unwanted third party away. they are only nice to you ♡

-> if you liked this reading and want to request another topic pls click here !! xoxo daisy ♡

cutie four ♧

No. I don't think your DR s/o is the possessive type. He seems to be quite independent and having his own space and type is quite important to them, so they also respect their partner's space and time that they need for themself. "You don't need my approval, you know?" Also, they don't hide their feelings and are very honest and open. They are also not fooled easily and hate childish mind games. They'd appreciate it, if you were honest about your feelings too and just tell them if something bothers you. Even though they don't hide their feelings, they're not the most emotionally intropective person - they might sometimes not understand what they're feeling. If there is something bothering them which they logically can't understand why their feeling this way (ex. immature jealousy without a reason) they might end up just feeling depressed, anxious, lonely or even grumpy/angry. if you see them for example overworking themselves, forcibly distracting themself, struggling to fall asleep or constantly being tense/restless or mindlessly following you around like a puppy, then you'll know they're overthinking things and struggle with uncomfortable feelings they can't comprehend themselves - just confront them and talk things through! They love talking with you and sharing with you whatever you guys have on your mind with each other. one-on-one time with you is their favorite time :)

-> if you liked this reading and want to request another topic pls click here !! xoxo daisy ♡

cutie five ◇

No. I think your DR s/o is the "aloof and distant guy" type of person - someone who introspective to the point of emotional withdrawal, often preoccupied with their own thoughts and feelings, a lone wolf. relationships are not really easy for them. they generally have trust issues with the world. their actions sometimes contradict with their thoughts/feelings. In relationships of any kind they often fear making the wrong choices, struggling with understanding other people and their intentions. They really try to trust you and your loyalty towards them but if they feel insecure or triggered by a third party, they might actually seek your comfort and closeness (cuddling?), wanting you to assure them to take of the emotional stress that their feeling. They lowkey might have an obsessive tendency but not really in the possessive way. Honestly, their feelings towards you feel really pure - they just want the best for you, prioritizing your happiness over their own. They want to become a better person for you - they feel a bit bad that they're not so good with expressive themself and that they're hard to understand sometimes but they feel deeply grateful that you still choose them regardless.

-> if you liked this reading and want to request another topic pls click here !! xoxo daisy ♡

[taegularities]

entertainer (teaser) | jjk (m)

Summary: Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: strangers to lovers (or something); angst, bits of fluff, smut ➳ warnings: do not fall for this jk i repeat do not f– 🚨 he's kinda hot though; (not so) silent yearning, flirting, sexual tension, he is so attracted to her :'), mystery, oc is a big question mark, full jk pov!, dark past(s), crying, fear, confrontation and fighting, cocky kook, secrets and revelations, explicit sexual content (kissing, fingering, teasing, drunk shenanigans, sooo much lust, big dick jk, etc.), more warnings on drop day once the fic is finished!! not much for the teaser itself, though <3 ➳ wc: 1.8k :') (around 20k for the full thing) ➳ a/n: scratches head. this has been a long time coming and i'm beyond curious how y'all will like it :') very new and experimental, so let's see how it goes!! as always, drop a message to lmk what you think of this lil glimpse, i'll be waiting with dangling feet hehe!! <3

➳ give the Entertainer playlist a first listen! 🖤   

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs 

“Why are you the textbook definition of a fuckboy, honestly.”

“Fuckbo—”

“Nevermind.”

If he wasn’t well acquainted with this little game, he would’ve missed your subtle, nearly veiled intent to tease. But he’s done that a million times before — hence, catches the faint twitch of your gorgeous lips immediately.

You’re enjoying this. So he should join… right?

Yet.

You’re not being entirely insincere. In fact, he hates how he picks up on the note of truth in your velvety voice.

Trimmed nails scratch the back of his head, and he barely notices once the two of you halt in front of another piece of work. Distracted, he doesn’t bear the art any mind, instead asking, “You really think of me like that?”

You shrug a shoulder. Nonchalance a constant feature, but so natural, even somewhat gentle, that he can’t help but feel drawn to you. “A little.”

“Well, shit.”

“Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the art.”

“Sure.”

Reluctantly, he glances to the canvas. It’s a mess of hues; a random arrangement of spontaneous emotions. Resembles the masterpieces he used to create in Microsoft Paint, back when his legs would still dangle off the chair.

“So,” he starts, nodding towards the painting, “what do you see in this?”

You hesitate. Or maybe it’s not hesitation — more like… a thinking pause. Sometimes, when Jungkook notices a whirring mind, he sees a steaming brain through a skull. Working at full blast.

But somehow, he only recognises a tranquil ocean as he observes you gather your thoughts. Everything about you is tender, but wrapped in dark mystery.

How much mental training does it require to become this inscrutable?

When you finally speak, you’re saying similarly odd things.

“I see… colours.” Right. Stating the obvious. Jungkook chuckles, delivering a head tilt. “And am wondering how the painter got to create this at all. I mean, this looks so meaningless at first, doesn’t it?”

“But it’s not, yeah?”

“We’re fast to think that. Most of the time, there must be a trigger, or a thought on something, no matter how small. Something might have been bothering him. This is—” A hand gestures towards the painting. “Such a chaotic mind.”

Interesting…

“Is this what you usually think about all day?” Jungkook wonders.

You scoff. “I’m just a person, too. I think about a lot of random things.”

“Ahhh. Like what?”

“Like… seeing all the green in this exhibition made me realise how that colour makes me cry.”

Jungkook takes a haphazard look around. Now that you say it — there’s no hint of a nature theme, but the abundance of green is striking. It’s as calm as you. No wonder you’d immerse yourself in a showcase such as this.

You continue, as if tracing and reading his mind like an open novel, “It’s soothing, right? And unique. These earthly things sometimes make me feel like not all of us are deserving of seeing such beauty. Like it should be reserved for those who've earned it.”

Earned it? How? 

Jungkook can’t see your thoughts as clearly as you’re apparently capable of doing, but he has an inkling of what you might mean. Truly dazzling souls merit the stunning bloom of the world, right?

And then…

If that’s what it is.

He wonders — do you think he deserves to see the colour green? Or is it already over if he has to ask? Perhaps, should he be perceiving it as grey right now? He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know how you think of him — doesn’t know anything about you at all. You’re a tough nut to crack. 

“Hmm… that’s a way to think about it,” he says.

“Only because it’s the same for people. And I’ve had this thought about humans a lot… I…” You hesitate, blink, and then grant him your gaze. “I knew someone who was the colour green. Not everyone deserved them, either.”

Someone…

Poetic minds carry a certain pain in their eyes.

He’s been seeing it in yours. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t. Yet.

Instead, he asks, “What else are you thinking about?”

“Uhmmm,” you voice, straightening your back a little, as if waking up from a dream — a nightmare? “I’ve been thinking about trying that, too. Painting, I mean. It doesn’t have to mean anything or be good. Just a great way to capture something that resonates with what I feel.”

Every word you’ve uttered today was otherworldly. You didn’t talk like this when you were at the meeting, or in his office. Your soul is somewhat free-floating here, and he doesn’t understand why.

And it’s a behaviour he usually strays away from. The vulnerable ones can be dangerous.

But somehow… you’re too strong of a magnet.

One who shrugs all the puzzles away — and he sighs in despair. Maybe it’s not time to find out what you feel just yet. What resonates with you — even though he’s dying to hear it.

He inquires, “Are you always this much of an open book?”

“No. Not at all.” Of course not. Rhetoric question — he knows this much. “But I like thinking out loud sometimes.”

“I’m glad to be a sounding board then.”

“Hah. Well, I was also thinking how I appreciate that I met you here.” Pause. Oh? What a surprise. Strokes his ego, though. And then, out of the blue again, “You wanna go to the museum restaurant?”

Jungkook has barely inhaled half of the exhibition yet. But just for today, he couldn’t care less.

Perhaps this is enough for now, visiting the overpriced restaurant, watching you from afar as you inspect your nails calmly. You’re not busy on your phone like the rest of the crowd — entertained by the same media that he’s part of.

Maybe he can be a bigger part of their lives one day — be the one flitting over their screens, the one they adore. The one they worship.

But you don’t seem to indulge in those mind-numbing devices for now. You might be an addition to his team, but privately, you float in your own world. Distracted by the thoughts you won’t disclose.

Your hands retreat, arms crossing on the table and lips curling into a smile once he strolls back to you. Satisfied, he informs you, “One cake to go with the coffee. As the lady suggested.”

“Oh. One?” you ask, “Don’t you want one?”

“I do.”

“So…” You stall, and he waits until it clicks, your head tilting in understanding. “Are we sharing?”

Jungkook lifts a thumb, pointing over his shoulder, back to the register, “Those chocolate cakes are sweet as hell. I’ve got a sweet tooth, but believe that it’ll be enough for us two.”

You laugh — a candied, disarming chuckle before you breathe an, “Alright.”

Jungkook doesn’t know you well enough to feel any skip of his heart; yet, you stir something else in his mind. While he does avoid them, it’s still always people like you who intrigue him the most — those who veil themselves in a coat of secrets.

He sighs.

“That was fast,” you note, eyes at a point behind him.

And he understands when the waitress arrives a couple moments later, serving two perfectly prepared cappuccinos and a mouth-watering chocolate fudge piece.

You thank her with a gentle smile, and tuck a hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing your dangling silver earring.

And he watches.

Watches as you nod towards him, urging him, “Start then.”

Observes your smile as he signals you to start instead. And he gazes at you as your delicate digits reach for the fork, tearing off a piece, wrapping your lips around the utensil.

And then… oh God.

He feels his guts twist; hears all background noise fade; blood rushing away from his head.

All the way through his body as you slowly relish the sweetness and then drag the wet tip of your tongue over the fork. Licking away the leftover chocolate.

Jungkook swears it happens in slow motion. And witnessing your elegance in snail’s pace… makes him sick.

When your eyelashes flutter, gape lifting to meet his, the sound around him comes alive again — as does he. He averts his stare from your mouth, covered in the same colour as the coffee, but you notice.

You catch him looking. And it makes you… smile? Shit.

But you don’t boast your effect; only digress as you say, “Well… tastes as fancy as it looks. Try.”

You’re as relaxed with him as you can be. But you always are; with everyone. He craves that bit that’s only reserved for him — and maybe he’s too zealous too fast. He hasn’t known you for long.

Making you smile must be an achievement, though, right? If only… you didn’t think of him like…

He nods, and then leans over the table ever-so-slightly. His knees brush against yours, a soft but deliberate move. He places an elbow on the table, grasping the fork, close to you. If he lifted his hand, he could touch your cheek.

He wishes he could.

His eyes meet yours through his bangs, the cake’s taste irrelevant to your presence. And when his ego doesn’t let him live, he finally asks, almost as if insulted, “Do you actually perceive me as a fuckboy?”

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, furrowing your eyebrows, and then giggle before questioning back, “Jungkook… that’s bothering you this much? Mmmh. How would you like to be perceived?”

“Just. As a decent guy who wants to get to know you. And I know you know.” You blink, but he doesn’t buy it. So he elaborates, “I’ve been trying to make clear that I find you interesting. And somewhat attractive.”

People usually display a flicker of glimmer in their eyes upon hearing such praise. But you don’t budge; in fact, your eyes remain the same, if not a little darker. Why?

Yet, you cock an eyebrow, sporting a teasing, playful tone, “Somewhat, hm?”

He shakes his head, clicks his tongue.

“You’re pretty and I think you know,” he blurts, “and I don’t want to screw up right away.”

Is it the habit of never failing; getting what he wants? The urge to solve an enigma? The chance to dive into you until you’re bared to him? Why are you so interesting to him?

You’re just a person.

Maybe it’s just the unsettling need to discover what you’re hiding — it won’t let him rest. There’s something about you that screams to him to unravel. 

He doesn’t know what it is. Doesn’t know if you’re even from the same world as him — even though you seem to have crossed his realm before.

No matter what it is; Jungkook only understands for now that he wants to take off your layers.

Wants you to be the colour green for him. 

wrote most of it now and while sick, so it might change hehe! but i hope it's okay so far, and it shall only get better!! i'm so so excited for this, like i've been working on it and putting thought into it since october, so i hope it's worth the wait <3

as always, send your thoughts, questions, complaints lol lemme know what you think or i might perish sniff. super curious to know!! also, here's the taglistttt 🤍 love and appreciate you all <3

[novemberheart]

{overview} you and John take another step in you relationship, the startling truth about how you see your pack comes to light

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, cursing

Chapter 14 <- Chapter 15 -> Chapter 16

The situation had been hard for you to rationalize. On one hand you spent the whole night curled into a ball sobbing your eyes out. A few knocks echoed throughout your room, and you politely requested some alone time. They obliged you. On the other hand, you had a hard time taking what Simon said completely to heart. His actions had always shown he had your best interest at heart. You had upset him and he was hurt. His hurt made him say things that may not entirely be true- but what he was trying to convince himself of.

You prayed it was the second hand.

Regardless, you had taken the words hard.

You have been causing a lot of crises this past week. You were attacked, you caused Johns’ rut, and now Simon was pissed.

At this point, it would be a mercy to send you back to where you came from.

Not even a month in and you had turned into a problem. Omegas weren't supposed to be problems. Problems were eliminated.

You whined curling yourself deeper into your mattress. The alarm on your bedside table went off, making you flinch. You pulled yourself out of bed with heavy limbs. You were exhausted. You didn't sleep a wink, you had hardly eaten any food the day before and you were more emotionally drained than you had been in years. You didn't bother changing out of your sleep shorts but threw on a consoling knitted sweater.

You looked at your closet wondering if you should begin shoving all your clothes bag into your duffle.

You were usually alone at this time. Unless one of them had night training and was just getting home. You took a deep breath, hoping that was the case today. You pushed open your door, it getting caught on Simon’s boot. You gasped staring up at him with wide eyes.

Was he still angry?

Was he going to be the one to tell you that you were being sent back?

He cleared his throat, standing up straight so he wasn't leaning against the door frame. He was uncomfortable.

“Hey, pup,” he greeted softly. Any words you could think of got caught in your throat. As you stared at him a conclusion popped into your head, one that hadn't before. He was fine. His eyes were not rubbed raw, his voice not cracking from hours of crying. He had been much meaner to you and it seemed to have no toll on him. He didn't lose an ounce of sleep over it. He probably just rolled over in his bed and decided to apologize to you tomorrow.

It made you mad. Typical alpha behavior. Causing hurt feelings and omegas to spiral without a second thought. You weren't sure you wanted to be around someone so…..so uncaring.

“Simon,” you greeted gently, still keeping the door partly shut. Would he lash out at you again for not being warm to him?

He sighed, clearing his throat.

“I need to apologize to you about yesterday,” He started, his eyes staring down at you. His eyes held no emotion, even though they were big and round. He smelled sincere. There were no warnings going off in your head that this was a trick. “I’m sorry I said those things, even if you hadn't heard them it was not appropriate or even the type of person I want to be. Especially to you.”

That softened you a bit.

“Thank you for apologizing,” you were able to grasp words finally. “I'm sorry I didn't list you as my alpha,” it was your turn.

“Not that I have earned the title,” he added. You remained silent. He cleared his throat again. Did he expect you to disagree? “I would like to work towards it- you seeing me as your Alpha.”

“Of course Simon,” you said quickly. “You have been very good to me in the past, don't think I have forgotten or hadn't noticed.”

He seemed to appreciate the sentiment. He excused himself after, saying he had to get to training. You were fine leaving it there and you felt better about the situation. There was still something that had bothered you, though. Why hadn't you written his name down in the first place?

There was only one reason you could truly think of. He didn't feel like an alpha towards you. That's not to say you hadn't bonded with him over time but he didn't have the same effect on you as John had. All John had to do was look at you and he had your omega belly up and your head tilting back, practically begging him to mark you.

Everyone knew there were different types of alphas in the world. Domineering ones. Modern ones who treated their omegas as equals. Traditional ones who treated them like they were servants. Soft and gentle ones who acted like betas.

John was a provider. He didn't treat you as his equal. He treated you like you were of higher status than him. He was at your service. When you were with him touching a door handle was beneath you. Yet there was that domineering side to him. The part that needed to have control- him needed to have you chipped for example. Yet you knew that was less about ego and more about making sure you were safe.

The truth was, when you thought about your alpha, the first thing that popped into your head was John.

That was why you wrote his name down.

The rest of the day had been a breeze. You decided maybe you should stay home for a few days to hopefully minimize the trouble you could cause.

You had just changed into your pajamas when there was a knock on your door.

“Hi,” you grinned at John.

“I want to show you something. Put your shoes on,” he smiled, his eyes crinkling. You quickly grabbed your shoes and he held up a coat for you to get into. You slipped your arms in, feeling warm and fuzzy from the gesture. It was one of his, the smell of campfire making your brain lull into a state of comfort. He zipped it up for you, grabbing your hand in his and leading you out the door.

“Where are we going?” you questioned in the elevator.

“It's a surprise, pretty girl,” he asserted, holding back a smirk. You ran your fingers over his knuckles. They were rough and a bit swollen. Years of hard work embedded in them.

He led you down a path you had never gone before, weaving past the training grounds and over to where the offices were.

“Now this is our little secret,” he reminded. You two strayed away from the path, walking towards the treeline. “Need to get you proper shoes.” he huffed, looking down at your flats. You giggled, remembering when Simon had said the same thing to you. You two walked for a while, the sounds of war slowly growing more and more distant. “You cold?” he checked. You quickly shook your head. Despite that, he ran his hands up and down your arms to heat you up. “Just a little further,” he assured. “Here we are,” he stopped suddenly, causing you to furrow your brows at him.

You were in the middle of a forest. What was so special? He put a finger under your chin, slowly tilting your head up.

You gasped, your hands gripping onto his jacket in awe.

A sky full of stars. They took up the parts of the sky that weren't covered by the treetops.

“It's beautiful,” you whispered.

“The base only gets dark enough one day a month to see them,” he explained quietly. You wished you could see this every night. But then, you might not appreciate them. You stared up until you got a neck ache, slowly pulling yourself back to earth. His eyes remained focused on you.

He regrets it. Deeply. Not allowing you into the pack sooner. Granted you had brought with you some challenges- but you were well worth it. You were quickly growing to be an indispensable part of the pack and you weren't even marked yet.

So when you looked up at him it was only natural for him to lean down. You nearly went cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact. Your eyes fluttered closed and he sealed the distance. It was short and sweet.

A dream first kiss.

“This is beginning to feel personal,” you whined, causing them to chuckle.

“Not personal, peachy. Just the game,” Johnny smirked. He leaned over pressing a kiss against your temple. You growled at him playfully.

“Easy for you to say. You've plus-four-ed me twice in a row,” you exclaimed, waving your ridiculously large stack of Uno cards in his face. It was Kyle's idea and it started out with a few lighthearted games between the two of you and John. The addition of Simon and Johnny turned it into a full-on attack. After it was John's turn, he put down a reverse card sending the direction of the game back to you.

“Get him, honey.” He smirked at you, nodding his head towards Johnny. The only thing you had that could do any damage was a color changer- if you played it right. You leaned close to Johnny and he quickly reciprocated resting his forehead against yours.

“Interesting tactic,” Kyle chuckled, causing you to giggle.

“What’re we doing right now, Bonnie?” Johnny whispered, his pretty blue eyes lighting up in excitement (both kinds).

“I'm reading your mind,” you whispered back.

“Wanna read my mind in my room later?” he smirked, pressing his forehead against yours harder.

“I choose blue.” you smiled, waiting expectantly.

“Shite, only one I don't have.” he groaned, beginning to grab cards from the deck. You and Simon both celebrated. You for getting him back and Simon because now he was next in line to win.

Simon won, and you all moved into the next round. You crawled around the coffee table so you were sitting in between John and Kyle.

“I took a shower,” Johnny snorted as you moved away from him.

“I'm not being after you!” you explained, grabbing the cards that Simon dealt out. You couldn't stop a smile as you got two plus fours in your pile. You crawled back over to be in between John and Johnny.

“I changed my mind. Can we go this way?” you smirked, twirling your finger in a clockwise motion.

“I'm a bit frightened.” Johnny gulped.

“You've been giggly lately.” Kyle hummed, the feeling vibrating through your shoulder.

“That's because you keep tickling me,” you whined. As if on cue his lips skimmed over your shoulder and against your neck, causing you to erupt in laughter all over again. “Kyle,” you groaned playfully, pushing him away. “I'm not used to being touched so much,” you reminded. You had never been so physical with anyone before. Johnny and Kyle were always all over you, and John had been growing more and more affectionate. Even Simon had his claws in you when the two of you went out.

“Want me to stop?” he questioned, causing you to shiver.

“No,” you mumbled, burying yourself in his chest. He ended his attack and was content with having you rest on his chest. It was his “day off”- well as close to a day off as they get around here. You yawned, stretching out, your limbs popping back into place. He was tired, his eyes fluttering shut before he abruptly opened them again. “Sleep, Gazza,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“I have to get up soon,” he yawned, causing you to whine.

“Night training?” you mumbled. He nodded his head. The front door opened causing you to peek your head up from Kyle’s chest. In came Johnny, shirtless and dripping sweat. You gasped, eyes widening like saucers. “Kyle, your boyfriend is almost naked,” you whispered. Kyle leaned up with you, his cheek pressing against yours. You both stared at Johnny through the kitchen passthrough window, as he gulped down a large electrolyte drink.

“Wow,” you whispered in unison. Johnny's head snapped to where you two were lying and you both quickly shrunk back into the couch. You could feel your heart rate pick up as Johnny's footsteps got closer and closer and closer and……

A large, wet raspberry was blown against your cheek.

“Mac!” you shrieked, wiping his spit away. He chuckled, kissing the top of yours and Kyle's head before heading towards the bathroom. “Kyle, your boyfriend was flirting with me.” you poked.

“Can’t say I blame him, doll,” Kyle chuckled, getting the two of you comfortable on the couch again.

You could tell something was off the moment he walked in.

You already had a twisting gut feeling you knew what this was about.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he greeted. His large hand runs up and down your back. You leaned into him, your ear resting against the broad expansion of his chest.

“You're leaving aren't you?” you mumbled, your hand tangling itself in his shirt. John hummed in agreement, sitting in the stool next to you.

“Me and Johnny leave tomorrow. Then a few days later Simon and Kyle will have to head out too.”

“All of you?” you sputtered. You thought at the beginning they would take it slow. Not just leave you here by yourself. Especially after what happened last week.

“We should all wrap up fairly quickly, especially Simon and Kyle. Me and Johnny will be gone for at least two weeks, but when we come back we’ll get to go on leave. Think about where you want to go.”

It wasn't much consolation. You knew this was the agreement. You just wished you had more than a month to adjust. It had gone by so fast.

Hopefully, their being gone will go by just as fast.

Hello friends! Let me know how you feel about the way Simon and Omegas relationship is playing out so far. Or any other thoughts you have about the series. I love to hear what all of you think! See you in two days for chapter 16. 🧡

[zepskies]

Make It Right

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Summary: He didn’t mean to claim you. Not like this. Not before he’s meant to die.

AN: This was requested by this lovely anon. I've written Dean returning from Purgatory, so here is Dean returning from Hell in season 4, but with a twist…my first venture into A/B/O! Sorry if I didn’t get the dynamics quite right, I’m still learning this one. 😘

(@luci-in-trenchcoats Thank you for the encouragement! 💜)

Word Count: 4,300

Warnings: 18+ only! For smut, A/B/O dynamics, angst, mentions of torture, PTSD, and hurt/comfort.

You could’ve wept with relief.

You nearly did. Instead, you shuddered as his tongue swept along the fresh mark near the back of your neck.

A mark that claimed you as his.

Your core still quivered with the aftershocks of how hard you came around his cock, which was still buried deep inside you, locked in place with his knot. Dean nosed at your neck and shoulder as he tried to regain his breath, calm his wildly beating heart.

His skin was dewy against yours, especially where your thighs were hooked around his hips. He held himself above you so he wouldn’t crush you with his weight. You appreciated it, and you soothed up and down his sweat-slick back with grazing fingertips.

Through the newly formed bond, you could feel the frenzied haze of it all begin to clear from his mind, soon replaced by shock, and then, remorse. It made a tremor of worry churn in your belly.

“Dean?” you whispered. Your gaze met his with concern as you grasped his arm.

“What the hell did we just… I shouldn’t have…” His voice was coarse and his eyes filled with upset. “Fuck, this shouldn’t have happened.”

Dismay struck you deep, along with a pain that tore at your heart. Your only consolation was that the two of you were locked in this position, so he couldn’t slip away from you.

“How the hell could you say that to me?” you said. Against your will, your voice trembled. Tears began to sting in your eyes.

 Dean faltered. He blew out a breath and reached for your cheek.

“You know why,” he said. His face became edged with desperation. He shifted his thigh and accidentally tugged at the base of his knot. You both groaned at the pain that flared between you, where you were joined. 

Dean drew in deep, slower breaths in attempt to calm himself. His eyes shut, and his forehead dropped against yours.

“I’ve barely got three months left on my deal,” he said, through clenched teeth. “This isn’t…it’s not fucking fair to you.”

To you either, you wanted to point out, but you shook your head and held him close by the back of his neck. Your fingers trailed up into his hair, your nails brushing his scalp and eliciting a shudder from him.

Your touch both aroused him and soothed him. Your scent was everywhere, now mingled with his own that now covered you like a blanket. It was intense, and a bit overwhelming to his senses.

But it felt right.

“Don’t talk like you’ve already given up,” you said tersely.

It was with more vehemence than he expected. Dean pulled back a bit, just enough to meet your eyes. Your brows had drawn together, almost in anger. Your lips pulled into a frown.

“We’re going to find a way to break it,” you said. You reached up and held his face. Despite the strength of your words, your hands were gentle. “And I meant what I said, Dean.”

Between lusty sighs and the combined magnetic force of your heat and his rut and emotional tensions at their ultimate breaking point, the whispered words against his neck had come from the very center of you.

“Alpha,” you’d said, through abject need and burgeoning tears as you’d rubbed yourself against him. It was both biology and your heart’s longing. “Dean, I love you. Please…”

The tether of his restraint hadn’t lasted long after that. Because even though he couldn’t respond to you in words, he’d shown you in each and every action of his body molding with yours, wrecking you and claiming you on a dingy motel bed.

You deserve better, Dean thought, looking down on you now. You deserved more than what he had to give.

“I didn’t want to do this to you,” he said coarsely.

And yet, he still heeded the pull of you. Your guiding hands brought him down to your lips. It wasn’t the rough, manic, bruising kiss that had fueled your earlier passions. No, this was slow and warm and tinged with bittersweet.

Dean brushed sweaty strands of your hair away from your face. You held him to you and silently prayed that he wouldn’t let go either.

“I know,” you said. Even though the situation shouldn’t have warranted it, you giggled a little. “That makes you just about the most unselfish Alpha in existence.”

He snorted at that. His eyes took in your face, and further down, to the parts of you that weren’t covered by his body over yours. He let out a breath of defeat.

“No, I’m hella selfish,” he said. His lips quirked. “For better or worse, you’re mine, Omega.”

Your smile grew. “Good. Glad you’re finally caught up.”

Dean’s hand playfully tightened in your hair as he growled. It had little heat though, and you had the audacity to laugh. He shook his head and claimed you with another kiss.

You had to be just about the wiliest Omega in existence.

Dean never gave up.

But he also couldn’t fight off Lilith, or the hellhounds that tore his chest open and spilled his blood on the hardwood floors of some poor family’s suburban house.

You screamed as if your very soul was being ripped apart, along with his skin.

The mark on your neck burned something fierce. It had you clamping a hand down over it as you sunk to your knees next to Sam and cried over Dean’s body, his unseeing eyes. It wasn’t right.

You would never be right again.

It took about a week into your self-isolation. When you finally drew enough strength to get out of bed, you finally noticed it in the mirror—in the bathroom next to Bobby’s guest bedroom.

Your neck looked as if something had burned you. Your eyes widened in horror.

When you touched it, you hissed at the pain. The delicate nerve endings of your mating gland were even more sensitive and raw. Apparently, this was what happened when an Alpha mate died before their Omega.

However, even that pain was nothing compared to what you discovered, two months later.

Your mating gland had healed, and the claim mark was gone entirely.

You sank against the wall, all the way to the floor, and you cried until you were exhausted and frayed. Not even Bobby’s offer of a hot meal and a listening ear could penetrate your grief.

You were ashamed of the way you lost track of Sam after it all went down. You’d descended into yourself, and Bobby had been the only one there to catch you. Sam had forged on by himself, down a spiral of revenge, you were sure.

He wouldn’t come back to Sioux Falls, nor would he tell you where he was when you finally got him on the phone. He claimed he was better off alone as he tried to find a way to save Dean, but there was something off in his voice. Something that told you whatever he was doing was dangerous, and wrong.

“Sam, don’t you dare make a deal,” you demanded, through frustrated and sorrowful tears. “Dean wouldn’t want—”

“Don’t fucking tell me…what Dean would want, okay?” Sam seethed. “If it were me, he wouldn’t stop. If it were you, he wouldn’t stop. So don’t tell me to stop.”

“I’m not telling you to stop!” you shouted back. “I’m telling you not to do something stupid! And I’m asking you to let me help.”

There was a long pause on the line. You tried to calm your labored breathing as you waited for him.

“If you really want to help me, do what you can from Bobby’s. I’ll check in when I can,” he said.

And the line went dead.

Two more months had passed by the time you started to feel the barest hint of yourself again. You’d tried to go on a hunt with Bobby, but you really hadn’t been ready for it. Your head wasn’t in it, and that was how hunters got killed.

So you stayed behind and answered the phones for him. You pretended to be FBI and CIA and Homeland Security for fellow hunters trying to get their hands on police files.

You also helped Bobby with research and reorganized his extensive, and ridiculously chaotic home library. He was the only one you knew who could have A History of Paganism next to a guidebook on Chinese tea ceremonies.

But one night, you decided you were sick of sitting on your ass (and all the dust).

You were finally going out for a drink.

Bobby was locked at home in research for a case. You felt bad about bailing on him, but he insisted you were entitled to go out…

Not that you wanted to meet anyone. However, you did realize that you needed to reconnect with the outside world. You’d been staring at the peeling walls of Bobby’s house for four months now.

So you showered, found a simple black dress from deep in your closet, and started to blow-dry your hair. You didn’t do this often, but if you were going out, then you were going to make an effort.

You paused for a moment when a cramp hit your lower belly. You grimaced and pressed a hand there. A shiver ran down your spine.

Shit, not now, you thought. If this was your heat coming on, you would have to take another suppressant before you went out. You knew blocking your cycle wasn’t that good for you, but you hadn’t felt like dealing with it for the past few months. You just weren’t ready to go through another heat, whether by yourself, or with a stranger.

It…it was too soon.

After the cramping subsided for the moment, you continued drying parts of your hair, sweeping the brush through. With the hairdryer so loud in your ears, you didn’t hear the front door opening, or the resulting shouting and scuffle coming from downstairs.

Eventually, there was quiet. And then, heavy boots climbing up the stairs.

You saw the bathroom door push open out of the corner of your eye. You turned and nearly jumped right out of your skin.

Your scream echoed on the walls when you saw something that looked entirely too much like Dean Winchester.

Hit scent hit you then. Warm and musky, a hint of earthiness and soil, but no less familiar. It struck a blow to your chest and forced you to grip the counter for balance. You clicked off the hairdryer. 

The doppelganger raised placating hands, though his wide eyes slowly softened as a smile tugged at his lips.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

His deep voice was the same. He looked dirty and disheveled, wearing a familiar gray buttoned down over a black shirt, his usual jeans, and boots. If your memory served, they looked like the clothes he was buried in…

Your hands shook. “Wh…what the hell are you?”

Dean’s smile began to fall.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe. But I’m me. I’m, uh… I’m back,” he replied. When he tried taking a cautious step forward, you brandished your hairdryer against him—your only feasible weapon.

“You…you back the fuck off!” you snapped. You opened your mouth to shout for Bobby, but before you could, Dean’s trademark smirk took hold of his face.

“What’re you gonna do, blow me to death?” he quipped.

After you broke through a bit of your shock, you spluttered with laughter. And then tears.

Dean’s lips quirked, but he moved towards you in slow steps. He took the hairdryer from you and set it down on the counter. With a slightly shaking hand, he touched your cheek. You closed your eyes for a moment, sucked in a breath, and inadvertently inhaled his scent once again.

Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest. Your fingers curled into the front of his shirt. You realized it then. You didn’t need silver or holy water to prove it was him. You knew.

Your eyes opened and met his.

“Dean,” you uttered, brokenly.

He couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Dean pulled you into him by your waist. He held you as you shuddered and cried into his chest. His hand clenched in your hair, while the other pressed into the small of your back. It anchored him, and trapped you in the cage of his arms.

He buried his nose into your neck and had to squeeze his eyes shut past a telltale burn in his eyes. Your name fell from his lips, both longing and reverent. Your hold on him tightened.

His lips brushed against your mating gland, igniting sensitive nerve endings and making a tremble run down your spine.

“Alpha,” you whispered.

Dean’s insides clenched in response. He ached for you, just like he had soon after he’d been able to free himself from that pine box in the middle of nowhere. But his brows furrowed.

He pulled back from you, just so he could brush the bare skin along your neck with a gentle thumb.

“What happened to the mark?” he asked. He realized that he couldn’t feel you, not like before. And even your scent was different…like you’d never been claimed by him. Like you weren’t his. That realization hit him like a sucker punch to his stomach.

You frowned and leaned back so you could meet Dean’s eyes. It took you a moment to find your voice, and even when you did, it was uncharacteristically small.

“After…after what happened, it burned like holy hell,” you confessed. Your hands travelled down his chest, clinging to the open edges of his shirt. “Then it was a scar. Then, it was just…nothing. It was gone.”

Fresh tears burgeoned in your eyes. They spilled down your cheeks as your frame shook with a sob, but Dean gathered you back into his arms. As shitty as it was, he started to think this was actually for the better…

“What happened, Dean? How are you here?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Haven’t figured that part out just yet…but something broke me out.”

He knew it wasn’t you who made a deal. Your shock was too real to be an act. He knew, however, that he needed to find Sam.

That could wait though. Dean’s gaze roamed your face. He wiped away the remnants of tears from your cheeks, brushed his thumb across your lower lip. Your eyes met his. He saw your heartbreak begin to fade—into a desire that called to his own. Despite the voice inside that warned him to hold back, he just couldn’t help himself.

When he finally leaned in to kiss you, it felt like coming home. You held his face in your hands and rose up on your toes to meet him. His arms wrapped around your waist and brought you flush against him, but it wasn’t enough.

Kisses became more frantic, with labored breaths and hands moving to remove each other’s clothing. Your sexy little black dress fell to the floor, along with your bra and panties and the rest of his clothes.

“You’re filthy,” you laughed, between the sloppy meeting of your lips with his. 

Dean’s response was to peel back the shower curtain behind you and turn on the shower head, as hot as it could go. A growl sounded low in his throat before he bodily hefted you along with him into the shower and under the spray.

For a moment, he let the scalding water beat down on him. You grabbed the soap and drew it over his neck, chest, and shoulders. The suds trickled down his body, washing away the grime of the road, and whatever else he hadn't been able to wipe off after escaping his grave.

He blinked water out of his eyes as he took in the sight of your concentrated face, and your gentle hands washing him. Then the rest of your body, your curves that fit so well in his hands, your breasts that heaved along with your heavier breathing, nipples hard and aching to be touched.

Dean took the soap from your hands and put it back on the dish, shortly before he pinned you against the cold bathroom tile. He ravaged you with lips, teeth, and tongue along your neck, down your chest, and over your breasts. You moaned and held him to you.

You didn't care that your hair was getting soaked all over again. Your fingers ran through his now wet hair as he touched you and drew pleasure from your body.

Your lower belly was beginning to cramp in earnest now, and resonating deep inside you with heat. You felt a flood of slick forming between your legs as your core pulsed with need.

Your scent hit him in a powerful wave, nearly making Dean falter as his eyes rolled shut.

“Fuck. You’re in heat, Omega,” he choked out.

You nodded, though you had to fist a hand in his hair when you felt his fingers between your legs. They swiped between your drenched folds, gathering some slick and circling around your clit. You moaned loudly and arched against his hand. The back of your head pressed into the wall.

“Alpha,” you said. A whine sounded in your throat as Dean’s touch firmed in response. His thumb pressed and massaged your clit while two fingers slipped deep inside your tight channel. 

A shiver ran down Dean’s spine, along with your nails grazing down his back. Already he was painfully hard for you. He had a suspicious feeling that your heat was triggering his rut, because he was becoming desperate to be inside you. His whole body felt tingling and alive, and charged with need.

His lips sucked hard on those sensitive nerves between your neck and shoulder, making you gasp. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers.

“That’s it, Omega. Want you to come just like this before I fill you up,” he muttered. He earned your vocal agreement in response.

But then it hit him.

Flashes of memory. Darkness and blood. Agony tearing at his skin and insides.

And then, inflicting it himself, on other souls just as damned as him.

Your moan of release just barely managed to pull him out of his own mind. He felt your wetness coat his hand. Goddamn.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. And yet, while his body caged yours against the wall, he couldn’t force himself to continue. He couldn’t back off either. He was fighting every instinct in his body that demanded he take you, right here and now.

“Dean?” you asked, sensing his hesitation. You cupped his cheek, but he didn’t want to look at you.

“I can’t,” he ground out.

Your eyes widened as shock and dismay threatened to overtake you. “What?”

Dean’s eyes closed. He was trembling with the force of both his need, and his restraint.

With a frown of concern, you wrapped a thigh around his hip, but he wouldn’t heed your attempt to bring him closer.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. No, you demanded to know. Because your body was quaking with desire as well. You needed his knot, and you wanted nothing more than for him to make this right—to claim you as his.

But Dean looked like he was in pain. He winced and pressed a fist against the wall by your head. He pressed his forehead against it.

You tried to comfort him with your hands soothing over his shoulders. There you finally caught sight of a mark on his right shoulder. It looked like a burn…a handprint. Your eyes widened with a small gasp.

He followed your gaze, but he eventually looked away with a frown. It was like he didn’t even want to acknowledge it, even if he didn’t know what it was. Whatever had hauled him out of Hell, he doubted it was anything good. 

“I’m, uh…” He breathed raggedly through his nose. “I’m not…the same.”

You had a feeling it was very difficult for him to admit that.

Four months.

That was how long he’d been lost to you. That was how long he’d been in Hell. You couldn’t even imagine…

You swallowed past a lump of sorrow, but you weren’t deterred. You grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You were my Alpha long before you claimed me,” you told him.

That affected Dean, probably more than you knew. He still shook his head though.

“It’s not right, Omega,” he said, even as his voice trembled. You don’t have a fuckin’ clue… You don’t know what I’ve turned into.

The water from the shower head was growing cold, but you’d never been hotter. The cramps were starting up again in earnest, making your teeth clench at the combination of pain and incredible arousal.

“I need you,” you said, through frustration, heat, and emotion all at once. “I would never leave you like this. I would never leave you.”

His eyes closed again, briefly. His breath came out harshly through his nose when you touched his cheek. Your touch was gentle, but it still ignited his skin and made every muscle in his body coil tight with strain.

It was hard to sort through the base instincts that were on the verge of taking over his mind, and then his body. Deep down though, Dean knew you were right. He knew you would never leave him. And that was kind of the problem.

“Alpha, please,” you said, through your own strain. Again, you took his face in your hands and shook him. It drew his gaze to your face. Your beautiful face that he’d seen over and over in the Pit, used as his own personal form of torture.

His whole body trembled.

You saw his distress, and it pierced your heart. You leaned up and brushed your wet cheek against his, while your fingers slipped into his hair in comfort.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” you said. “And you’re here with me.”

You nuzzled your way down his neck and pressed your lips to his mating gland, making him shiver for a whole different reason. You pressed your body against his and kissed, licked, and sucked at his skin.  

“Omega,” he warned, but the growl in his throat was more pleased than warning. He felt your nails graze down his chest and stomach, and soon enough your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

He sucked in a breath and pressed his face into your neck. His lips ventured tantalizingly close to the place you wanted him the most, and all the while you stroked him along sensitive flesh. Your thumb circled around his knot, and the dripping head.

“I know you need me too,” you said. You could smell his rut. Your lips edged at a smirk, and you decided to bluff. “But if you won’t make me yours, maybe I’ll find another Alpha who will.”

It didn’t take long before a vice grip closed around your wrist. Dean’s irises were rimmed with black when he met your gaze, half consumed by the Alpha as he pinned you harder against the wall. He grabbed your thigh and hooked it around his hip. And with the other hand he guided his cock to push into you and stretch your inner walls, inch by inch.

You both moaned in relief when he was firmly seated inside you. Your core throbbed around him in a spasm of pleasure. You cried out and rolled your head back against the wall, your nails sinking into his shoulders.

“Alpha,” you shuddered.

“I got you, Omega,” he ground out, just barely holding onto the tethers of himself. His fingers coiled tight into your wet hair and began to pound into you, a rough clip that had you gasping, toes curling as you arched against him.

His lips found your throat and laid a nipping kiss there. All you could do was hold on desperately. You knew he was close when his thrusts grew ragged, when it became harder for him to push into you with the swell of his knot forming. But it wasn’t until his fingers slipped between your joined bodies and circled more insistently over your clit that you came along with him, hard on his throbbing cock.

His teeth sunk into your neck, creating a newly forged bond through a haze of pain and pleasure. You cried out again at the force of it all—the sensations were nearly overwhelming, even more so than it had been the first time he claimed you.

And Dean nearly slipped in the tub.

“Fuck!” He managed to catch himself on the soap dish and the adjoining wall while you grabbed his arms steady. Shit, that really could’ve been disastrous, considering you two were now locked in place.

He glanced down at you. Through wide eyes and panting breaths, you broke first with a giggle. Dean’s lips curved with a smile. Soon enough, he was chuckling too.

The black around his irises receded, and he held you more gently and secure against the wall. After licking the line of blood clean from your neck with a slow, sensuous tongue, he brushed your wet hair back from your face. Then he turned off the frigid shower. 

“We really shouldn’t have done this in here. Shit,” he said with a laugh. How were you two supposed to get to your bed? Or at least get dry.

You giggled harder and dropped your forehead against his chest.

“It’s okay,” you said teasingly. “I think this is worth catching pneumonia over.”

Dean shook his head at your antics, but he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. Smiling bright, you leaned up just enough to reach his lips. Your kiss was slow and tender; a release of your grief, a grateful thank you, and a reminder all at once.

“I love you,” you whispered. “That’s all that matters. We’ll deal with the rest afterwards.”

Dean expelled a long breath. He nodded after a moment, conceding defeat.

“I love you too,” he admitted. And he meant it, down to his bones. 

He knew that afterwards wouldn’t be as easy as you seemed to think, but there was no turning back now.

You were his. 

AN: And there we have it! lol This was definitely a fun challenge. I might like to try my hand at A/B/O dynamics again in the future, but let me know what you think of this one. 😘💜

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[horrorslvt]

Hi, sweet 🍬🍭cheeks. If you don't mind my dear 💕, can I have NSFW, with thomas Hewitt, michael myers, and bubba Sawyer with s/o who are very submissive and will do anything to be able to have sex with slashers, as well as s/o who like once using lingerie with bunny headband. S/O also has high Sex drive.

I know you're going to think I'm a pervert but I can't help this idea that pops up whenever I think about slashers.

You can freely ignore my request sweet 🍬🍭cheeks, btw don't forget to take care of your health and always drink lots of water my dear 💕🤗

Run, rabbit, run.

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Michael Myers, Bubba Sawyer.

Summary: What would the slashers be like with an S/O who has a high sex drive and is very submissive.

Trigger warnings: NSFW, knives.

A/N: Hellooo, I love this request. It's so sweet 😭 and I'm sorry it took me so long to get to it because of my hiatus. Also, I would never think someone is a pervert for a request, I read very weird shit y'all, don't worry. This is a judge free zone. Also, I wasn't sure if this was a preference/reaction/one-shot request, so I did preferences, but if you wanted one-shots you can totally request again.

Thomas Hewitt:

I feel like at the beginning, he would definitely be taken aback by it, seeing you were so persistent about wanting him. Years of being seen as disgusting by everyone will do that to you.

But he definitely gets used to it. In the beginning, he wouldn't be too sure what to do, but as time goes on, he gets it. You sit on his lap in front of everyone looking for a reaction, and his hands go straight to your hips, his masked face straight to the back of your head, breathing a bit heavily into your hair to let you know how much he wanted to take this further when you two were alone.

And when he sees you with lingerie and bunny ears, it's fucking on. He pounces on you like he wants to eat you (in a not literal way), and his heavy rough hands are quickly manhandling you into his lap so you can jump on it. He's a bit of a brute, though, so the lingerie probably doesn't stay on for long, but the bunny ears do.

Michael Myers:

Now Michael is a bit different. He doesn't tend to show much emotion towards anything, his presence being menacing 99% of the time... but as sick as it sounded, it kinda added to the lustful things he made you feel.

When you two start living together, it takes him a bit to realize what you want or what you're hinting at with the things you do. He thinks you're sitting on his lap or rubbing against him or whispering some dirty stuff in his ear, almost as a joke or just to bother him.

So the first couple of times, he decides to fuck the teasing attitude out of you. Which quickly makes him realize that's exactly what you wanted. So when you start asking for it, he obligues, gladly.

The day you decide to take things a bit further and use lingerie and bunny ears, though, he's surprised at first, his body a bit frozen on the bedroom doorframe. But when he snaps out of it, he walks to the bed slowly and tilts his head slightly, looking at you like a predator. And then his hands take hold of your ankles, and he roughly yanks you closer to the edge of the bed to where he is and... gives you what you want.

He would probably cut the lingerie off your body with a knife, and he doesn't necessarily take the bunny ears off you, but they do end up falling off when he grabs you by the hair.

Bubba Sawyer:

Just like Thomas, he's also taken aback by it. And just like Michael, he also doesn't get it at the beginning. He's used to being treated as a weirdo and a pawn by his family, so he wasn't expecting someone to want him, let alone that much.

I feel like he would probably need you to straight up tell him you want him to rearrange your guts... and then he would also gladly do so. Maybe a bit inexperienced and sloppy at the beginning, but the more you do it, the better he would be at it. And boy, do you do it a lot. He really enjoys having control over you. Though he doesn't know what to do at the beginning, he gets used to it.

I think he's the most shy at seeing you in lingerie and bunny ears. His cheeks get red under his mask, and his blood starts flowing to two places at one. But very similar to Thomas, he pounces on you.

I don't think he would rip your clothes off you, but he would definitely take them off in a rather hurry. He doesn't take the ears off, though. After you two finish a couple of times and your head falls to his chest in exhaustion, his hand moves to touch the ears, almost examining them, making you chuckle a bit.

[orchidsarchives]

I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!

Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.

Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.

Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.

Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!

Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.

Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.

The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.

You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.

He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.

You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.

All of it was coming together now.

The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.

Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.

You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.

“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.

“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.

“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.

“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.

You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.

You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.

“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.

“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”

[gf2bellamy]

first of all, i want to say that i love love love your fics so much they're so cute and you write Spencer so well omg 😭😭😭

could i request girlfriend reader and spencer where he just got out of prison and they reunite and stuff and they just want to be close to eachother because theyve never spent that much time apart??

(preferably very fluffy and cute?)

<3

reunited — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n ) content warnings: a bit of angst a/n: THANK YOU SM !!! <33 means alot to me <3 hope this is what you asked for !!

The moment Spencer stepped through the doors, your heart felt like it was going to burst. You had been waiting for what felt like an eternity, counting down the seconds, the minutes, the hours until he was free again. Until he was back in your arms. And now, here he was—alive, real, and standing right in front of you. 

His eyes found yours almost immediately, and the way they lit up made your chest ache. The man who had been your anchor, your safe place, your everything.

And now, after weeks of being apart, he was finally here. 

You didn’t even realize you were moving until you were running toward him, your feet carrying you faster than your thoughts could catch up. He met you halfway, his long arms wrapping around you before you could even say a word. The force of his embrace nearly knocked the air out of you, but you didn’t care. You clung to him just as tightly, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt like you were afraid he might disappear if you let go. 

“I missed you,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and you could feel the way his hands trembled as they held you. “I missed you so much.” 

When you finally pulled back, you didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face until Spencer gently brushed them away. His touch was soft as his fingertips traced the paths of your tears.

For a moment, he just looked at you, as if he were memorizing every detail of your face, as if he needed to remind himself that you were real, that this was real. 

And then, without a word, he pulled you back into his arms, holding you even tighter than before. His face buried into your shoulder, and you could feel the way his breath hitched, the way his body seemed to sag against yours, as if he’d been holding himself together for weeks and only now, with you, could he finally let go.  

An hour later, you were home, and Spencer still hadn’t left your side. He had changed out of his clothes, and you were pretty sure that was the only time he hadn’t been touching you in some way. But even then, he had kept his eyes on you, as if afraid you might vanish if he looked away for too long.

Now, sitting on the couch, he had practically pulled you on top of him, his arms wrapped securely around you as if he couldn’t bear even the slightest distance between you. 

Your head rested on his chest, rising and falling with each breath he took. One of his hands was tangled in your hair, gently playing with the strands, while the other traced slow, soothing circles on your back.  

“I missed this,” Spencer said quietly, his voice soft but filled with emotion. “I missed you. I missed the way you feel in my arms, the way you smell, the way you make everything feel… okay.” 

You tilted your head to look up at him, your heart swelling at the raw honesty in his words. His eyes were still a little red.

“I missed you too,” you said, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his face. “Every single day.” 

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment as if savoring the feeling of your hand against his skin.

“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again,” he said quietly. “Not like that. Not ever.” 

You smiled, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “You don’t have to be,” you said softly. “You’re stuck with me, Spencer Reid. For as long as you’ll have me.” 

A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Forever, then,” he murmured against your skin.

You sighed contentedly, settling back against his chest. His arms tightened around you.The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours.

Even the next morning, Spencer’s need to stay close to you hadn’t faded.

When you woke up early, you had to practically untangle yourself from his grip, his arms still wrapped tightly around you even in his sleep. You smiled softly as you carefully slipped out of bed, brushing a stray curl away from his forehead.

He looked so peaceful, his face relaxed in a way it hadn’t been in weeks. He deserved to rest, and you weren’t about to wake him. 

You padded quietly into the kitchen, the early morning light streaming through the windows. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a genuine smile on your face as you moved around the kitchen.

You hummed softly to yourself as you started making breakfast, the familiar routine feeling almost new again now that Spencer was home. The smell of coffee brewing and eggs sizzling filled the air.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear him come up behind you.

Suddenly, you felt his arms slide around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest. You let out a small, surprised laugh as his chin rested on your shoulder. 

“You’re up early,” he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. His breath tickled your neck, and you could feel the way he nuzzled closer, as if he couldn’t bear to be even a step away from you. 

“I wanted to make you breakfast,” you said, tilting your head to the side to give him better access as he pressed a soft kiss to the curve of your neck. His lips lingered there for a moment, and you could feel the way he sighed, his body relaxing against yours.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured, his hands tightening slightly around your waist. “I would’ve been happy with just… this.”

You smiled, turning your head to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes were still half-closed, his hair adorably messy from sleep, and the sight made your heart swell. “I know,” you said softly, reaching up to brush your fingers through his hair. “But I wanted to. You deserve something nice after… everything.” 

Spencer didn’t respond right away, instead he pressed another kiss to your shoulder, his arms holding you just a little tighter. “You’re too good to me,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with something like awe. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You turned in his arms, your hands coming up to cradle his face. His eyes were soft, filled with love and gratitude. “You don’t have to do anything to deserve me, Spencer,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re enough. You’ve always been enough.” 

For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. And then, without a word, he pulled you back into his arms, holding you so tightly it felt like he was trying to make up for all the time you’d spent apart.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with so much emotion it made your chest ache. “So much.” 

“I love you too,” you said softly, brushing your hands through his hair. “Now, how about we eat before the food gets cold?” 

He smiled as he pulled back, and nodded. But instead of letting you go, he kept one arm around your waist as he reached for the plates, refusing to let you get too far.

And you didn’t mind one bit. 

A couple days later, Spencer had a spontaneous yet nostalgic idea.

It was well past midnight when Spencer suddenly sat up in bed, his eyes wide and alert as if he’d just had the best idea of his life. You blinked up at him, still half-asleep, as he turned to you with a boyish grin that made your heart skip a beat. 

“Let’s go for a drive,” he said, his voice low but filled with excitement. 

You raised an eyebrow, squinting at him in the dim light of the room. “A drive? Right now? Spencer, it’s like… 2 a.m.” 

“Exactly,” he said, as if that explained everything. “No traffic, no people, just us. Come on, it’ll be like old times.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm in his voice. Midnight drives had been your thing before everything happened—spontaneous adventures where the two of you would just drive aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing, the world feeling like it belonged only to you.

The thought of doing it again, of reclaiming that little piece of your life together, made your chest warm. 

“Okay,” you said, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “But you’re driving. I’m too sleepy to be responsible.” 

Spencer’s grin widened, and he practically bounced out of bed, pulling you up with him. He didn’t let go of your hand as he grabbed his keys and led you to the door, his excitement contagious. You couldn’t help but laugh as he practically dragged you to the car. 

Once you were both in the car, Spencer reached over to adjust the seat for you, his hand brushing against your leg as he did. He didn’t pull away immediately, his fingers lingering for a moment as if he needed the contact. You smiled, placing your hand over his and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

The streets were quiet, the city bathed in the soft glow of streetlights as Spencer drove with no particular destination in mind. Spencer’s hand found yours again, his fingers intertwining with yours as he rested your joined hands on the center console. 

“This is nice,” he said after a while, his voice soft. “I missed this. Just… being with you, no pressure, no worries. Just us.” 

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “I missed it too. I missed you.” 

He glanced at you, his expression softening. ��I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “I know I keep saying it, but… I just can’t stop thinking about it.” 

You shook your head, bringing his hand to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. “Stop apologizing,” you said firmly. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Let’s just enjoy this, okay?” 

Spencer nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Okay,” he said, his voice warm. “But just so you know, I’m not letting you out of my sight for a long, long time.” 

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. “Good. Because I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” 

The two of you drove for what felt like hours, the city slowly giving way to quieter roads and open skies. At one point, Spencer pulled over at a lookout point, the stars stretching endlessly above you. He turned off the engine and leaned back in his seat, his hand still holding yours. 

“Remember the first time we did this?” he asked, his voice soft. “You were so nervous. You kept asking if I was sure I knew how to drive.” 

You groaned, covering your face with your free hand. “I was not nervous! I was just… cautiously optimistic.” 

Spencer laughed, the sound warm and rich. “You were nervous,” he teased. “But it was cute. And look at you now—completely at ease with my driving skills.” 

“Don’t push it,” you said, poking his side. “I’m still cautiously optimistic.” 

He grinned, pulling you closer so he could press a kiss to your temple. “I love you,” he said, his voice soft but filled with so much emotion it made your chest ache. 

“I love you too,” you said, leaning into him. “Now, let’s go home before I fall asleep in your car.” 

Spencer chuckled, starting the engine again. “Your wish is my command.” 

The drive back home was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. Spencer’s hand never left yours, his thumb absently tracing circles on the back of your hand as he drove.

Every now and then, he’d glance over at you, a small, content smile playing on his lips, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were really there beside him.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, Spencer turned off the engine but made no move to get out of the car. I

nstead, he sat there for a moment, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he stared out at the entrance of the apartment.

“Hey,” you said softly, turning to face him. “You okay?”

Spencer didn’t answer right away. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared out at the dark windshield, his fingers tightening around yours. 

Finally, he spoke, his voice low.

“There were days when it felt like the walls were closing in,” he admitted, his eyes still fixed on some distant point. “Like I was never going to get out of there. I just… I don’t think I could’ve made it through everything without knowing I had you to come back to.”

Your heart ached at his words, a sharp, almost physical pain that made your chest tighten.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak without your voice breaking, so you just nodded, your hand squeezing his a little tighter.

Your other hand reached up to brush a stray curl away from his forehead, your touch gentle, reassuring. You wanted him to feel how much he meant to you, how much you’d missed him, how much you’d fought to hold onto the hope of this moment.

Spencer leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment. When he opened them again, there was a softness in his gaze.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice warm. “For waiting for me. For believing in me.”

You smiled, though your eyes were stinging with tears. “Always,” you said simply, because it was the truth.

Spencer’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile, and he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Let’s go inside,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “I just… I want to be close to you.”

You nodded, your smile widening as you squeezed his hand. “Lead the way.”

Once inside, Spencer didn’t let go of you. He followed you into the kitchen as you grabbed a glass of water, his hand resting on the small of your back. When you moved to the living room, he was right there with you, his arm draped over your shoulders as you sat down on the couch. And when you finally settled in, leaning against his side with your head on his chest, he let out a content sigh, his fingers gently playing with your hair.

“This is nice,” he murmured, his voice soft and sleepy. “Just… being here with you. I missed this.”

You smiled, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed it too,” you said, your hand resting on his chest. “But we’ve got all the time in the world to make up for it now.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a small smile, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah,” he said, his voice warm. “We do.”