#just being told that things are okay is fine for us we don’t need to be invited to everything yknow just like

[chuulyssa]

there’s glitter on the floor after the party !

teaser it’s your birthday tonight, but do they remember, or care? pair gojo, nanami, geto, toji, sukuna x reader cw angst, just pure torture™, not proofread !

a/n it’s my birthday on 28th wooohoooo ! i wanted to be a sad girl tho *lana intensifies* let’s hope my parents take some notes and NOT do this

GOJO

for someone who liked cakes, sweets and celebrations so much, you didn’t think it would take this long for satoru to realize what day it was. you didn’t want to remind him either; he should remember it on his own, shouldn’t he? moreover, you had hated the look on his face when you reminded him of the anniversary date the two of you had planned together. he had panicked so hard and begun checking his notes and calendars, it was a pathetic sight, honestly.

“what?” his face had fallen immediately.

“don’t you remember?”

“uh, sweets, what exactly am i supposed to remember?” he had said.

he was just busy. but you had agreed upon this when you began dating him. not everyone was the strongest sorcerer in the world, not everyone had the number of things to do that he did.

“no, it’s fine.”

“you sure?” he had asked.

“yeah, it’s nothing, really.”

but you were quite sure he hadn’t forgotten. not this time. because you had checked in on his calendar a week before this, and today was marked rightly “her birthday” with a shit ton of emojis. so what was taking so long? maybe he was planning a surprise party? whatever it was, you didn’t think the prank needed to be dragged on for so long. since he remembered it, he ought to come out and celebrate already. and if he didn’t, well, whatever. you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when you saw that the party he kept was for someone else, some other girl, no

NANAMI

you’d been waiting for hours at this point. and it was nanami, the kento nanami. kento was never late, how could he be? if there was something he always relied on it was his ability to tell the time, whether it was his refusal to work overtime or his arrival on your dates before you.

so where was he now? he had hurried off in the morning before you had gotten a word out.

“i’m terribly sorry, sweetheart, i have to leave early today,” he had planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“okay, okay,” you had blinked in confusion at his hurry. “where are you going though?”

“i have decided something.”

“decided what?”

he’d sighed cryptically. what was he hiding?

“it’s best if you didn’t know.”

“excuse me?”

he’d shaken his head and just… left? he hadn’t even wished you, not the night before, not the morning after. and just what had he decided? you were hurt, of course you were. where was he going in such a hurry? you had felt he had been growing distant from you for long now. but it did not make the pain of being left alone on your fucking birthday any better. but what could you do either way now? you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when you saw that he had returned to his sorcerer status, and completely abandoned all the plans the two of you had made for your future, no

GETO

he was too in love with his cult to notice, of course he was. suguru dumbass geto. of course it was his cult’s birthday today, who were you even? when he had first told you, to prevent yourself from crashing the fuck out, you had tried to shut up.

“oh.”

“yeah, so are you joining us tonight?” he had asked, as if he was bestowing an honour upon you by inviting you to his stupid party.

“i didn’t know you kept birthdays for your cult, haha,” please get the hint, you had prayed.

“we do, yes. you will join us tonight, hm? i want to take you there as my date.”

“oh, no, no i don’t think i will, actually.”

“huh, why not? you had been looking forward to this day for a long time, hadn’t you?”

yeah, you had. obviously you had. but when you were jumping around two weeks ago talking excitedly about a ‘birthday’, you did not mean it to be his cult’s day. was that too hard to notice? but all was okay, of course. ‘how could you ruin such a long relationship over a forgotten birthday?’ you were sure that’s what the older women of the cult would talk about if they knew. and besides, you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when he had decided to take another woman as his date for the event, showing that you were completely replaceable to him, no

TOJI

he had a mission planned out conveniently at midnight, just when the clock would strike 12 and you’d be a year older. but what could you say? it wasn’t as if it was in his control when someone wanted a person to die or not, he was just the man doing the job.

so you had let it go. one hour, two hours, twelve hours, eighteen hours, where the fuck was he?

“hey, sorry ma,” there was loud cheering from his side of the phone.

“where are you?”

“got this race i wanted to bet on actually—”

“shut up, no seriously, shut the fuck up, toji—”

“what? are you okay?”

“no i’m not, what the fuck—”

there was another cheer of celebration from his side. then silence.

“calm d—”

you hung up. 6pm and he was nowhere. you were sure even if he didn’t pick your call up that time. after this, he would go out drinking with shiu all night long, then come back home drunk and wobbling around, mumbling the tune to ‘happy birthday’ if he realized what day it was, and even then, you thought, you were being too optimistic with that last part. but he was an assassin, and you knew that. didn’t he deserve some happiness in life too? and you, you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when everyone tried to remind him of the day but he was too far gone to know, no

SUKUNA

what did you expect? your chamber to be full of decorations? the dining room to be laid with the most beautiful gifts ever? the corridors to be filled with balloons? though none of that was here, the mere mental image of sukuna blowing up balloons and trying not to pop them with his nails was funny.

funny. everything that could make your mind get off right now was funny. blowing the fire of your candelabrum out, leaving behind just smoke and discomfort. funny. pretending the dinner you had been served for the night was your highly expensive banquet designed just for tonight. funny. acting as if sukuna was right by your side, giggling, as if he didn’t always behave like human traditions meant nothing to him. funny.

“it’s my birthday, you know.”

“birthday? alright. what of it?”

“uh, birthday birthday? shouldn’t you be celebrating it?”

“what is there to celebrate? it is merely a day, no?” he had said it so simply that it made you backtrack.

“yes but—”

“and besides, you are only growing older. it would’ve been remarkable and truly something to celebrate if you had been growing younger by the days,” he chuckled, turning away from you to make his way to the council.

you laughed. funny. he was right though, wasn’t he? you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when he knew, he knew and he could not care less, showing his disdain for it too, no

of course, of course you had many other birthdays, many other years yet to come.

but not when it came at the expense of your self-respect, and you had to make a choice between loving and loving yourself, no

[la-gotica-fantasma]

8 realistic situations to add to your writing -

Disclaimers: I cannot stress enough that I am not at all trying to tell you what to write, these are just some concepts / prompts. - My title does not mean that your more lovey-dovey scenes are unrealistic, I just couldn't think of how to title this - Some of these are scenes that have been used in my writing, so if by the off chance you are using any of these, please don’t copy the dialogue word for word. :}

ROMANTIC -

1) When both of them are cuddling / holding hands and one of them starts sweating.

★ “Ugh! I love you, but I don’t love all this sweat you produce!” “But it’s my love for you seeping out of my pores!” “I couldn't care less what it is. Off!” “Fine, your majesty.”

2) Each character hating their mother in law / partners mother

★ “Mom is asking to visit.” “And do what?” “I’m not sure, check up on everyone?” “She can check up her own ass for the stick I know she’s lost up there.”

★ “Well, your mother is no saint.” “She never claimed to be!” “Uh-huh, and when has mine?” “Circa-” “Okay! Truce?” “Truce.”

3) Character X bringing up a pet peeve they have with Character Y at a family gathering.

★ “Character Y does this one thing when they eat- they never scoop up their food with their fork, they’ll just attack it! Sometimes I can’t stand it.” “You never told me that bothered you?” “It didn’t bother me enough to mention it.” “Not until a family dinner?” “I didn’t mean anything negative by it-” **cue Character Y aggressively attacking their food with their fork** “Okay, I get it! We’ll talk later.”

4) Character X and Character Y bake with each other, except realistically.

★ “Character X, why are your arms wrapped around me?” “Because I love you.” “I love you too but I also love being able to actually mix the ingredients together.”

★ “Get the eggs!” “You told me to stop buying eggs because ‘inflation will kill us all’.” “I wasn’t wrong but, UGH-! I need eggs!” “Well I got them anyway, but still.”

★ “Stop touching things!” “How am I supposed to bake without touching anything?!” “You aren’t!”

5) Planning lies they'll tell in 5 years when people ask how they met.

★ "What if we say that we were playing bumper cars and I hit you so hard I fell into your car?" "Hmm.. how about we say that I was going to my best friends wedding and I was all down and glum, but a friend of mine told me to 'have some fun' and that maybe I'd meet someone special at the wedding, and that's when I saw you. You and a little yellow umbrella that I've seen in so many places before, and we just talked about our past together?" "I think that's been done before." "By who?" "One of the most popular rom-coms ever aired."

★ "We could say I saved you from-" "I'm gonna stop you right there." "Fine. What's your idea then, if you're so smart?" "We tell them we met in a psychiatric ward." "Wow. Exquisite thinking." "Just imagine the looks on their faces!"

PLATONIC / ROMANTIC -

6) Those moments where neither party can decide on something so they do nothing, only for them both to yell out what they want and it coincidentally be an agreement.

★ “What do you want for dinner?” “I’m not sure, what do you want?” “I dunno.” **cue them both lazing around, doing nothing for minutes** “Spaghetti.” “It’s like you can read my mind.”

7) Character X asking Character Y how their day went, and Character Y just breaks down in tears- not because their day was bad, but just because Character X asked.

★ “Hi, how was work?” **cue ‘ugly’ sobbing** “Oh no, was it really that bad?” “No- It just- It was just- sweet to- ask-”

8) Stuff that should be awkward really not being awkward at all.

★ “Did you just fart?” “Yeah.” “Okay, good.” “‘Good’?” “Good that it’s not a gas leak.” “Yeah, I had to force it out a little bit.” "So definitely not a leak." "Definitely not."

p.s. Your writing is captivating as always suga, and I am abidingly proud of you and your work. <3

Morbid affection,

- Tipsy ᓚᘏᗢ

[kikyoupdates]

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑟𝑎

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

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Aizawa feels bad about bringing you to the hospital again. It goes without saying that it’s not a fun place for a kid, but if the doctors are concerned, then really, what choice does he have?

“Am I sick?” you ask him. “I don’t feel sick, so why am I back here?”

He offers you a sympathetic smile. “It’s just in case. Sometimes, we need to do a lot of tests to make sure that your body’s healthy. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

As always, you go along without much protest. Aizawa appreciates that you trust him so much, but it actually makes him feel even worse about jerking you along like this. You’re a good kid, and truly, you deserve better than the unfortunate circumstances you’ve found yourself in.

Dr. Iwase examines you, does a few more tests (Aizawa holds your hand again when they take another blood sample), but all in all, it’s clear that nobody has any idea what’s going on.

“She seems perfectly healthy and functional,” Dr. Iwase frowns. “Which is why... it just doesn’t make any sense. The numbers we keep getting don’t add up. Perhaps it has something to do with her Quirk? You mentioned before that she has regenerative abilities. Perhaps that might be affecting her blood cells and overall constitution. But even so, it’s still rather strange...”

If a doctor can’t figure out what’s happening, then Aizawa sure as hell won’t be able to either.

He spares a glance at you. You’re sitting on the exam table and happily swinging your legs out, seemingly without a care in the world. No part of you strikes him as being sick or unhealthy. Scientific data aside, as long as you don’t feel any discomfort, that’s what matters most, right?

“Can I take her home now?” Aizawa asks. “I’d hate to keep her here too long. Especially if you say she looks fine.”

“Yes, I suppose. Sorry for the inconvenience. A child’s wellbeing is at stake, so naturally, I couldn’t afford to be negligent.”

Aizawa nods. “Of course. I’m just glad she’s okay. As you’re probably aware, I don’t have much medical knowledge, but at the very least, I can keep an eye on her health and look out for any concerning signs.”

“That would be much appreciated,” Dr. Iwase smiles. “Thank you, Aizawa. So long as you monitor [Name]’s condition, I feel confident that she’ll be just fine.”

Well, that concludes yet another hospital trip. Aizawa doesn’t much care for the harsh smell of antiseptic and the constant beeping of medical machinery, but he supposes he’ll have to get used to it. If it means keeping you safe, he’ll take you to dozens, no—hundreds of hospitals to make sure you’re in good health.

“So, I’m not sick,” you hum, looking rather pleased with yourself as you hold onto Aizawa’s hand. “I told you, Aizawa. I told you I was feeling just fine.”

“I know,” he chuckles. “Like I said, this is just to be safe. Adults are very meticulous about these kinds of things. We like to test things a bunch of times just to be sure that we’ve gotten it right.”

You smile. “That’s okay. I don’t mind coming back here again if it helps everyone believe I’m not sick. And since I was a good girl and listened... that means I get a burger, right?”

Man. You really, really love burgers.

Not that Aizawa minds. Quite frankly, that smile of yours is so cute that he’s ready to risk everything for it.

“One burger coming right up,” he muses, affectionately ruffling your hair.

Your smile gets even bigger. “Since I was extra good today, can I maybe have two burgers instead?”

“...let’s not push it.”

He’s convinced that if you ever do get sick, it’ll be from a burger-induced food coma.

You’re a kid. Being a kid comes with its fair share of troubles, it seems. Troubles that are only amplified by the fact that you have virtually no lived experience.

While it’s true that kids are generally ignorant about most things, yours is a different case altogether. Certain things you instinctively pick up on, thanks to the knowledge Dr. Garaki imbued your brain with, but others, you can only learn by experiencing them firsthand, and what may seem incredibly obvious to most people often needs to be explained to you in great detail.

Aizawa still hasn’t been able to figure out what the deal with you is. The police have yet to find any leads, and there are absolutely no records of you anywhere they’ve looked. Almost as if you never existed in the first place.

Whatever the case, it’s clear that his guardianship can hardly be called ‘temporary’ anymore.

For the foreseeable future, you’re here to stay, and that means that he needs to make sure all your needs are properly seen to.

This, of course, includes education.

“School?” you blink, visibly confused. “What’s that?”

As always, your response catches him off guard. Based on a rough estimate, you look to be about five or six years old. You claim you don’t know your birthdate, which is plenty horrifying in its own right, but he chalks that up to the obvious gaps in your memory. Still. To have forgotten about something as fundamental as school? It’s messed up, and it makes him tremble just imagining the horrible man who must have tormented you all this time.

You’ve been through a lot, which is all the more reason why you need to start living normally, the way other kids do.

“School is where people go to learn all kinds of things,” Aizawa explains. “I’m sure you’ll really enjoy it. And there will be plenty of kids your age there, so you can make some friends too.”

Friends...

You like the idea of having friends. Hopefully, you can meet more nice people like Izuku. That would be great. Just the thought makes you ridiculously excited.

“I want to go,” you insist. “I want to make tons of friends!”

Present Mic laughs. “You’ll have to learn too, kiddo. That’s kind of the main focus of school. Well, you seem like a smart kid, and you’re good at following instructions, so you've got all the qualities of a model student.”

Your face flushes with pride. School hasn’t even begun yet, and you’re already being praised. It seems like a rather promising start.

And so, while you eagerly await your first day of school, Aizawa and Present Mic attend to all the bureaucratic details. They’re able to find a good public elementary school in the area, and thankfully, after explaining your unique circumstances, your enrolment is approved.

That’s how you find yourself equipped with a cute cat-themed backpack, lips parted in awe as you stand in front of the school gates.

Aizwa pats your head. “How are you feeling? It’s okay to be nervous, but just remember to take a deep breath, and everything will be fine—”

“I’m so excited I can barely stand still!” you exclaim. “I want to go in, I want to go in, I want to go in!”

Well, then. He had a whole speech prepared in case you were getting cold feet, but this certainly saves him the trouble.

“I’m glad you’re looking forward to it so much.” Aizawa crouches next to you and smiles. “Mic is busy with hero work, so he couldn’t be here to drop you off, but he wanted you to know that he’s rooting for you.”

“I know,” you beam. “Even when you guys are busy, I know you’re still thinking of me. Just like how I always think of you.”

Goodness. Aizawa is convinced you must be a tiny little angel that fell out of the sky. Perhaps that’s why most things are so foreign to you.

He chuckles weakly at the thought. No, of course not. Your past is far too grim for that to be the case. Still, it’s nice to dream.

“Have fun,” Aizawa encourages, patting your head one last time. “Make sure to listen to your teacher and you’ll be just fine. And play nice with the other kids. I’m sure they’d love to be friends with you.”

You hesitate before trickling past the gates, where the crowd of other kids is passing through. Aizawa wonders if you’re finally starting to feel nervous, but before he can pose the question, you jump into his arms and give him a big hug.

“Bye-bye, Aizawa,” you say. “I’ll miss you while I’m at school. And you’ll miss me too, right?”

He blinks in surprise, but it doesn’t take long for him to wrap his arms around you.

“I will. I’ll miss you a lot,” he mumbles. He’s not just saying it for show, either. As he holds your tiny body against his, he realizes that he’ll miss you like crazy these next few hours.

It’s strange how he hasn’t even known you for very long, but already, you’ve become so deeply ingrained in his life.

He finally waves goodbye to you, and you scurry off excitedly, following behind the rest of the students. Aizawa could have easily walked with you all the way to your classroom, but you insisted that you wanted to figure it out yourself. You’re a big girl, and you want to prove to him that you’re plenty capable on your own.

Thankfully, the school isn’t terribly big, and you’re able to find your way just by copying where most of the other kids are headed. Your eyes scan the signs above the doors, searching for the classroom that you were assigned to.

Ah. It’s that one!

You grin proudly. Look at that. You figured it out just fine, even without Aizawa’s help. Of course, it’s not like you have any qualms about relying on him, but it’s nice to do something on your own every once in a while.

You step inside the classroom and take a few moments to assess your surroundings. So, this is school, huh? There are desks and chairs all over the place, there’s a blackboard at the front, and the walls are covered with all sorts of educational posters; mainly catchy slogans or words of affirmation. There’s a map of the world too, and a big clock.

But best of all, the classroom is bustling with excitement. There are kids everywhere you look. So many of them! So many potential friends! You’re itching to go up to them and introduce yourself right off the bat, but before you can, someone beats you to it.

“[N-Name]?”

Huh? That sounds like...

You whip your head around, and sure enough, there he is. The nice curly-haired boy you met not long ago, and who you quickly hit it off with.

A grin spreads across your lips.

“Izuku!”

You bound over to him and take his hands in yours, despite the fact that it makes him yelp out of embarrassment. You’re too excited to take note of how violently red his face is. You just can’t believe how lucky you are, to have met him again on such short notice. And best of all, you’re classmates now, which means you’ll get to see each other all the time.

“Yay, Izuku’s here!” you beam. “I’m so happy to see you again! I didn’t realize you went to this school too. It’s my first day, and I was already excited, but now that I get to see you, I’m even more excited!”

The poor boy’s head is spinning. He’s so flustered that he can hardly keep up with what’s happening, and the fact that you’re still holding his hand in yours doesn’t help in the slightest.

You frown a bit, having finally picked up on his embarrassment. “Hm? Izuku, are you okay? Your face looks kind of—”

“No way is this happening right now.”

Ah. There’s yet another familiar voice.

Except this isn’t one you’re all too thrilled about.

Katsuki grits his teeth. “I can’t believe it. You seriously have the nerve to show your face here, after all the crap you said to me? You really must be an idiot. You made a big mistake coming to this school.”

He balls his hands into fists, an act which is clearly meant to intimidate you, but all the while, you just stare at him without uttering a word.

Then, you blink.

“Sorry, what was your name again?”

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[lovetogether]

Friends like doing something together nd not telling us genuinely makes us have the worst episodes ever and we like know it’s petty nd not good nd wanna ween off the fear, but it gets us so bad.

[kitten4sannie]

antithesis

pairing: peter parker/venom! yunho x gf! reader

genre: spider man au, smut

summary: your boyfriend is going through a phase.

w.c: 3.3k (porn with a microscopic amount of plot)

warnings: dom! yunho, sub! reader, venom should have his own warning bc bro is NASTYY (so is yuyu 🤝🏻), partial mind manipulation? on yunho’s part? bc venom is in his head? idk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, teasing, fingering, hand kink….,, SIZE KINK., manhandling, pussy eating, tongue kink, raw feral sex (doggy + missionary), bro has a monster cock, also monster fucking!! bc venom takes over <3, cum eating, breeding kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, mind break, record breaking creampie

a/n: listen …….i LOVE venom, the things i would let venom do to me would set humanity back at least fifty years. NOW VENOM YUNHO ON THE OTHER HAND,, oh boy. boyyyy oh boy. i don’t think i have to explain myself when it comes to that combination bc this fic speaks for itself lol. are you curious now? why don’t you give it a peek then, hm? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ and then lemme know what you thought of it pretty please? <3

song rec: new woman - lisa feat. rosalía (get it bc he’s a new man - bc of venom - 😼)

fictober 2024

“And just where have you been, Jeong Yunho?” you asked your boyfriend in a more teasing manner than anything, once he snuck in past the sliding glass door of the balcony, getting up from the couch you were waiting restlessly on. When he stood there silently just looking at you through the white eye shaped sections of his mask, you pouted, nervously wrapping a lock of hair around your finger. “Just be honest with me and I won’t be mad, okay?” 

Despite the lack of sleep, you were ready for him this time. He wasn’t about to casually sneak in or out of the house another night that week without you catching him. Usually, you wouldn’t have been concerned because you were used to him being gone when there was crime taking place or a super villain that needed to be brought to justice, but recently…your boyfriend was acting strange. He was starting to become moody and secretive, opting to brush you off when you asked him about it. Yunho had even taken up using substances in his free time, finding him drunk or high off his ass in the apartment when you got home from work. The final straw was when you came home one night to find him in the kitchen with freshly dyed hair and new piercings he had given himself, a few empty boxes of black hair dye and bloody safety pins laying haphazardly on the kitchen counter. 

Yunho took off his mask and rubbed at his eyes like he was tired, leaving a bit of smeared eyeliner underneath them, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his frayed jacket, the one that was slightly zipped just enough to cover his iconic red suit. 

“She knows about us,” said the annoying parasite that had just recently made a home inside him. “We should eat her.”

“No, I’m not doing that,” Yunho grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

You walked up to him, gently putting a hand on his chest. “Yun, I just wanna know where you were at, that’s all. You know I respect your space,” you murmured, your pout growing slightly, your eyebrows upturned with concern. 

“She’s looking at us with those big round eyes again, Yunho,” Venom told his host, letting out a disgusting groan only he could hear. “It’s gonna make us hard. If we’re not going to eat her, let’s fuck her, at least.” 

“Mingi asked me to take care of some douchebags that had been causing trouble at that new club he works at. That’s all, baby,” Yunho replied softly, reaching down to press the back of his hand against your cheek, before cupping it. He noticed the teary look inside your doe eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You nuzzled into his big warm hand, before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck to hold your boyfriend close. “I’m fine…I’ve just been worried about you, Yun. You’ve been acting a bit…different.” 

“Let’s show her just how different we’ve become, Yunho,” Venom egged him on, knowing Yunho could feel just how much he wanted to break through the barrier of his host’s mind and take control. “She’ll love it.”

How could he possibly explain to you that he was always in a never ending battle with a frightening otherworldly parasite that had found its way inside of him? You would be so scared and disgusted, you’d probably never trust him again. He couldn’t risk losing you, not when you were his only anchor to the normal life he desperately craved, and the first person he’s ever felt this strongly about. 

“I’m just going through a phase, I think,” Yunho expressed wholeheartedly, resting his hands around your waist, his thumbs slightly pressing into your hip bones through your sleep shirt, feeling just how delicate you truly were. You were so small compared to him, practically swimming in one of his band t-shirts that you regularly wore to bed; you were so tiny and cute, and…”Malleable,” Venom finished. Yunho couldn’t tell if the parasite was influencing all of his thoughts or if he was just that perverted. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, Yun?” You pressed yourself closer to Yunho, feeling his large hands enclose around your small waist, making you feel a bit dizzy. When he shook his head, you tilted yours, wondering if what you felt pushing against your middle was exactly what you thought it was. “Or, do you want to take me to bed?” 

It had felt like forever since Yunho had touched you, kissed you even. You had almost forgotten what it was like to feel him inside you, filling you up over and over again until his love spilled out. Just the thought alone made your body begin to overheat. Was it wrong of you to take his simple answer at face value? Should you have pushed the issue, instead of letting him push you back into the wall of the hallway? You weren’t sure, but you were just grateful that your boyfriend still wanted you like this. 

“Did punching those guys at the club make you this horny?” you asked playfully, a sudden shiver of pleasure shooting up your spine when Yunho’s warm hands snaked up underneath your shirt and began groping at your tits.

“So horny,” Yunho joked back, a shaky exhale escaping his bobbing throat as he swallowed. 

 “Nnngh, I didn’t know fighting crime did it for you, Yun.” 

“Knowing I’m already getting your little pussy wet just from this is what’s doing it for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, having to practically lower himself to your height just to do so, able to clearly hear the breathless moan that left your lips. Yunho was already breathing hard, his mind swimming with constant racing thoughts that all pertained to his pretty little girlfriend and what he was going to do to you, squishing your soft flesh in between his slender fingers, using his thumbs to rub your hardening nipples in teasing circles. 

It had felt like eternity since Yunho had allowed himself to feel you underneath his touch, to even simply look at you with unbridled lust. He wanted to see all of you, witness the way you completely opened yourself up to him. It was driving him insane. Was it selfish of him to give into temptation when there was something else living inside him? Something that he knew was taking even more pleasure in this than he was? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew it was far too late to stop now. 

“Let us see her tits, Yunho, they feel so nice inside our hands, we need to see,” Venom demanded, desperately shaking the bars of his figurative cage. 

When Yunho tugged your shirt up and over your tits, your gasp became muffled, your eyes widening as he stuffed the hem of the shirt into your mouth. You were going to close your legs to keep your arousal from spilling down your thighs, but your eager boyfriend pushed his larger one in between them. 

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Yunho cooed softly, admiring the way you began to grind your cunt against his thigh, despite the sheepish expression you offered him, a bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth from witnessing such a display of pure desperation. “Look at you go…rubbing yourself all over my thigh like a horny little slut.” 

“N-not a slut,” you whimpered softly, his insult causing a fresh wave of slick to leak out onto Yunho’s torn jeans. “Just need you, Yuyu.” 

“Her breeding hole needs to be trained to handle my size. Do it now,” Venom growled into Yunho’s mind, growing more and more demanding by the second, very aware that his host was starting to lose control of himself. 

“Yeah? How about this?” Yunho pulled your panties to the side so that he could watch as your greedy cunt swallowed up one of his long, bony fingers to the knuckle. “Is that enough, baby?” 

“I meant with your human sized cock, you insufferable prick,” Venom chided, simply not understanding the pleasurable benefits that prolonged foreplay could offer being the inhibited hothead that he was. 

Something about the way Yunho was taking his time with unraveling you, the way he was drinking in the sight of your bare body with pure lust inside his dilated eyes, all while he had one of his digits plunged inside you. It made you pulse and squeeze around it. “F-full.”  

“But I barely fit one finger inside you, sweetheart. What’ll happen if I put another?” Yunho suddenly tugged your borrowed t-shirt up and over your head, leaning in close to your face to catch the way your breath hitched as soon as he slipped another finger inside, curling them just enough to hit your sweet spot each time he finger-fucked you, earning a few whiny moans from his beloved girlfriend. “Oh, that’s right. You turn into my little sex toy, don’t you?” 

“Y-esss, Yuyu, just for you, fuck,” you cried out, hooking your arms around his neck to keep yourself from completely melting into the floor. 

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned into your ear, quickly stuffing his thick digits into you, unable to get Venom’s ungodly thoughts out of his head all the while, unable to keep himself from shoving a third finger into you, your slick walls pulsating around him. “You think you’re feeling full now…just wait till my cock’s inside you.”

Gasping, your nails dug into his back through his clothes. “Oh my god, Yunho, give it to me, please, please, please,” you whined breathlessly into his neck, trembling in his arms as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. “N-need your cock in me.” 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re already begging to be fucked like that. I almost forgot how much of a needy little slut you are when you need cock. You like the thought of me stretching out your little pussy that much, huh?” He smiled against your heated skin when you whimpered and nodded eagerly, not allowing you to witness the brief moment his eyes turned completely black. “I just might split you open.” 

You almost didn’t recognize your boyfriend when he tossed you onto your shared bed like you weighed close to nothing, and you certainly didn’t recognize him when he manipulated your limbs until you were laying with your head down against the mattress and your ass up in the air. Usually, he wanted to do missionary, so that he could kiss and look at you when you both came undone, but now, now he had you in a position that was apparently ‘perfect for breeding’, or at least, that’s what you thought you had heard him mumbling about from behind you. 

“Now’s the time, human. We must show her how great we are,” the alien reminded Yunho, delighted that his black parasitic poison was now making its way through his host’s veins, showing up from underneath his milky skin. It was changing him in ways that would most definitely benefit all three of you. 

Yunho squeezed his large hands into the sides of your ass and spread it open, hyper focused on your dripping cunt and how it struggled to accommodate his obscene size. “Poor baby’s so tiny, my little princess can barely take me inside her pretty cunt,” he sighed, pulling out just enough to send a few strands of spit onto his own cock, lubing up the base of it and pushing back in, a shiver of pleasure shooting up his spine as soon as he heard the broken cry that left your drooling mouth. “Looks like we’re going to have to break you in.” 

You felt like you were losing your mind. Your boyfriend had just barely bottomed out inside of you and you were already about to cream yourself. And, it might’ve been the cock drunk state you were in, but you swore to god that his dick got bigger. It felt like it was kissing your cervix already and he hadn’t even moved yet. Not to mention, it felt so hot inside you, and there was so much pre-cum coating your walls, you almost thought he had came prematurely, but he would’ve been asleep and snoring away already if he did. 

Yunho violently interrupted your train of thought by slamming his hips forward, letting out a deep, long groan as though he were experiencing euphoria. He grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, tucking them together so that he could hold them both with one large hand, and quickly got to work, yanking you back onto his cock, using you like his own personal sex doll. “That’s fucking it, isn’t it, angel? You like that? You fucking like that?” 

“Yeah, fuck me,” you moaned back, realizing this ‘phase’ of Yunho’s was one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to the both of you, previously unaware that something this rough, something this animalistic, could feel as good as it did. 

“She’s ours, she’s ours, Yunho, fuck, we’re going to cum inside her,” Venom blissfully announced into Yunho’s head, fully taking over his host in that very instant, gracing Yunho with the symbiote’s much more endowed features. 

It was then that you let out a sudden gasp, the air that quickly filled your lungs leaving as a wavering moan of pleasure instead. It was almost as if Yunho’s cock had grown twice in size. You didn’t even know how that was possible, but you were too lost in the moment to question it. “So big, it’s so fucking big, Yunho, nnnngh, it’s gonna break me,” you exhaled, quickly pulling at the sheets once he gifted you partial physical autonomy, your eyes beginning to disappear underneath your eyelashes. 

“That’s right, pretty girl, and you’re going to keep taking it all, even after I’m done impregnating you,” Yunho agreed huskily, bending over you until his overheated body pressed into your shoulders and back, his long fingers curling around the softness of your hips. Just as his never ending seed spilled into you and made its way into your womb, Yunho dragged his long tongue up in between your straining shoulder blades and along your neck, savoring your flavor. He truly wanted to eat you, unable to stop drooling, but the annoying mortal he shared this body with wouldn’t let him. Venom figured he would have to settle for the next best thing.  

You didn’t even have a chance to finish shaking, let alone take a breath, before you were being lifted up and lowered back down onto your boyfriend’s face, your cunt fitting snugly between the curves of Yunho’s lips and nose. Just as he lapped at your extremely sensitive clit and slit, you couldn’t help but jolt away, his forearms suddenly locking tightly around your middle. “O-oh…!” 

“Hold still. Need a taste of this pretty cunt,” Yunho growled under his breath, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide enough so that he could explore the entirety of your used cunt, licking and drinking up the mixed arousal that spilled out of you to his heart’s content.

“Y-yunhooo,” you whined pathetically, reaching forward to hold onto the headboard to keep yourself from passing out from the pleasure that was overloading your mind, looking down to watch how he eagerly nosed at your clit. “Fuck, i’ll cum again…” 

“Then, do it, princess.” Just as he swallowed down more of your wetness, he realized it wasn’t enough, unable to keep himself from sliding the entirety of his tongue inside you, feeling you clench around the base of it. 

“Oh my god, your tongue, it’s so–haaaah,” you reacted breathlessly, digging your nails into the wood of the headboard, the longer his serpent-like tongue slithered in and out of you so seamlessly, unable to fully understand how any of this was possible. When the thickest part of his appendage rubbed at your g-spot, you saw white around your vision, your ears ringing, unable to hear the filthy slurping sounds Yunho was making underneath you as he drank up your squirt. 

When you came to, you were back underneath Yunho, in the missionary position he loved so much, yet this time it was profoundly different. His eyes were as dark as his freshly dyed hair, one corner of his mouth split open, inviting a myriad of long, serrated fangs, all while black wispy tendrils clung onto one side of his face like a second skin. You realized too late why Yunho was acting so out of character, and that you were never actually alone with him the past few weeks. You had an uninvited guest, an alien symbiote known as Venom, to be exact — and here you were, face to face with him, his disgustingly oversized cock stretching you wide open.

“Oh god, you’re actually going to split me open, what the fuck,” you gasped sharply, clutching the sides of Yunho’s cheeks, your fingers tugging at the ends of his sweaty hair. 

“Silly human, as much as we’d enjoy seeing that, you won’t split apart. You have a prime body for breeding, didn’t you know?” he chuckled darkly in a two-toned voice, pressing his hand down into your abdomen to feel the sheer size of himself protruding through your lower belly each time his hips routinely smacked into yours. “We knew Spider-man’s pretty little girlfriend would make a perfect host for our offspring. Just look at you, you’re taking us so well.” 

You didn’t know what was going to break your mind first, the fact that you were essentially being used as a breeding tool for an alien that would take great pleasure in swallowing you whole, or the fact that your cunt was eagerly swallowing up something so absurdly large, its heavy girth and width stretching you so wide, it felt as though you would fall apart at any given time. Despite the insanity of it all, your body and mind welcomed it, creaming yourself on his alien cock. 

“Good girlll,” Yunho praised, letting his long slimy tongue slip out to lick up the side of your cheek until he tasted the salt from the tears that fell down your face. He fully sheathed himself inside you one last time, before his large hands cemented around your waist, holding you completely still as his hot load joined the other one he had previously fucked into you, his heavy breaths warming the skin of your neck. “That’s it, princess, take it all, just like that…” 

You could hardly breathe, let alone move, simply laying still in your boyfriend’s arms, taking everything he gave you, as wave after wave of cum coated the insides of your aching cunt and flooded womb, some of it spilling down the insides of your legs and dripping onto the stained sheets below. It felt so good to be filled up in such a way that you came again without direct stimulation, letting out a broken cry, before Yunho silenced you with a kiss. 

When you opened your teary eyes, your boyfriend’s previously monstrous traits were gone, instead replaced with his usual soft, flushed features that you adored so much. You watched him open and close his mouth, as if he didn’t know what to say. You pressed another kiss to his lips, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Should we go to the drugstore to get Plan B?”

Yunho gave you a goofy, though apologetic smile, leaning his face into your neck to give it a few kisses. He pulled himself back up to face you, his eyebrows upturned. “D-do you think it would work on an alien symbiote?” 

You patted his head, knowing what you signed up for when you decided to date the Spider-man, figuring one of his superhero friends would have a solution for the both of you. You gave him a soft smile, happy when he returned it. “If not, let’s get a refund.” 

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[sloaneispunk]

“once smitten”

frontman!in-ho x you

what if in-ho falls for gi-hun’s sister in the games?

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ༊· ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

“excuse me, i-” in-ho tried to introduce himself.

“ah, you’re so stupid! how could you take an invitation from a stranger?!” gi-hun scolded you as you stood like a little kid before him, head down with your hands behind your back.

“oh, yes, how can we help you?” jung-bae chuckled awkwardly, turning to face in-ho.

“i was just wondering if i could join your team, i saw that-”

“you’re saying that to me?! you came voluntarily too, again!” you shouted back at your brother, cutting in-ho off again as the team tried to de-escalate the situation.

“give me one moment.” jung-bae excused him, pulling you aside, away from gi-hun to calm down.

“i’m sorry.” apologised gi-hun as he turned his attention towards in-ho, looking him up and down once. “i’m gi-hun, that’s my sister y/n.” he said, pointing to you as you slumped onto the ground.

“ah, i must have caught you guys at a bad time.” in-ho sniggered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“no, no. everything’s fine here, you’re welcomed to join us.”

in-ho gave him a grateful smile, walking towards you, brushing skimmed past gi-hun.

“hi, you’re y/n? i’m assuming?”

you nodded, “you had to ask my brother for permission to join?” you jokingly said.

in-ho took a seat on the floor beside you. “what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“gi-hun didn’t come home for a year after his first game. went on like a lunatic about it when he did come home. then, he was gone, next thing i knew i was ‘happily reunited’ with him again here.”

of course in-ho had already knew all that, but it was part of his ruse to get closer to gi-hun.

“but whatever, it doesn’t matter anyway. i can take care of myself, i don’t need him.” you scoffed, arms crossed.

in-ho couldn’t help but grin at the sight, you were sulking in a corner with him, about the one thing that was possibly the least dangerous in the whole game.

“well, looks like i’m gonna be here for a while so, you know where to find me if you need me.” in-ho said, nudging your arm.

you giggled. “thanks, i didn’t catch your name.”

“young-il.”

“young-il…” you tried it on your lips, it sounded right.

“i’ll see you around.” he winked before he got up, walking off to join the rest of the team.

after that interaction, you couldn’t seem to get him off your mind. somehow, someway, it always went back to in-ho. when you and him were apart, you keeping away from gi-hun, you would sneak glances at him. sometimes, he would even already be staring, making you a blushing mess as you tried to cover it up by looking elsewhere.

after the second game of ‘six-legged pentathlon’, you were sat on your bed with the team surrounding you, all eating the food they had given you.

at that point, gi-hun was fuming. you couldn’t deny that you haven’t been pissing him off but who was he to say anything? afterall, he was the one that abandoned you for this stupid game.

“y/n, finish your food.” gi-hun told you sternly when you left the remainders aside.

“i’m not hungry.” you said monotonously, not meeting his eyes.

“you’re not going to have energy to play the next game if you don’t.” he scolded, raising his voice.

“who cares?”

“y/n. finish it now.”

“or what? you’re gonna disappear again? are you gonna leave me again?” you retaliated, sneering when he didn’t reply.

suddenly, he shot up, grabbing you by the collad as he slammed you into the wall. you screamed, but was silenced when your head came into contact with the rough surface.

“enough, gi-hun!” you heared in-ho yell, “put her down!”

then, you were being dropped to the ground. in-ho ran towards you, grabbing a hold of you before you could fall.

“are you okay?” he asked, brushing your hair aside to see your face.

but you couldn’t reply. you could only look at the ground, tears hitting the floor underneath you.

in-ho couldn’t be assed about anything else at that moment, he gently escorted you to the exit which was heavily guarded. without a word, the guards opened the door, letting you and him both leave without question. maybe if he was in the right mind, he would have been more careful about blowing his cover, but luckily for you, he wasn’t.

in-ho walked you to the bathroom, effortlessly lifting you onto the sink. he took a moment looking at your pitiful form, he felt his heart break.

“can you look at me?” he whispered, waiting for permission before he lifting your chin with his fingers. “let me see your pretty face.”

as you locked eyes with him, you could feel the embarrassment bubbling in your stomach. you were so weak, so vulnerable now before him. “young-il…” you managed to choke out.

he didn’t need anything else, he knew exactly what you needed at that moment, leaning forward to pull you into his embrace. the second you had your head on his shoulder, you sobbed. no one, not even you, knew if he was because you were scared, or angry, or hurt, but he was everything you could feel at that moment and nothing else mattered.

a few minutes passed, when you eventually calmed down and pulled away, you let out a laugh. in-ho was confused, did he do something wrong?

“thank you, young-il.” you smiled sadly at the man before you.

internally, he let out a sigh of relief. “are you feeling better?”

you nodded. you lifted your hand, touching the back of your head, causing you to wince in pain. “shit.” you cursed under your breath as you looked at your hand, a small trace on blood left on it.

“c’mere.” in-ho instructed, inspecting your wound. “it’s okay, i think it’s just a graze.”

he helped you clean your wound, taking care of you like you were his own treasured item, each movement acted out with upmost care.

“he’s not always like that.” you broke the silence as he hummed. “i don’t know what this place has turned him into.”

but in-ho didn’t care, you had just given him another reason to carry out his plan against gi-hun.

when the two of you headed back to the room, gi-hun ran to you.

“i think you should leave her alone from now on.” in-ho stepped in when he got too close for his liking.

“but y/n-”

“fuck off.” maybe it was a little more than personal now, but either way, he didn’t like the idea of gi-hun coming close to you again.

that night, you slept with in-ho by your side, you cuddled up to his side as he sat still on the bed, careful not to move. in-ho didn’t sleep for the whole night, he was too busy admiring your sleeping form and savouring the feeling of you cuddled up next to him. it made him wonder if this could be what it could be like outside the games.

maybe the you and him would have an apartment, maybe even a dog. it would be the epitome of a perfect life. everynight after work he would come home to you, being welcomed by your hugs and kisses. he smiled hard even just from the thought of it.

much often, when his thoughts had gotten the better of him, he would place a kiss on your forehead or draw cute little patterns on your arm.

y/n, y/n, y/n, what were you doing to him?

[janiehellion]

𝚮𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝛐𝐮𝐜𝐡 ⋮ 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔩 𝔇𝔦𝔵𝔬𝔫

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Smut ⋮ Handjob ⋮ Teasing ⋮ Edging ⋮ Orgasm Control

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.033 𝑺𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈: S2E05 & S2E06 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: GenderNeutral!Reader

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the Georgia sun burning down on you as you walked over to Maggie and Glenn outside of the house on Hershel's farm.

Every so often, you'd look towards the cars where a few others in the group were working, trying to make the most of the now limited supplies you all had left at the moment.

"I got a lot of corn here," Maggie said, holding up a can. "Maybe we can make some soup tonight. What do you think?"

Glenn laughed, "Soup sounds fine, I think. As long as we don’t have to eat beans again. I think I’m starting to sprout beans myself."

"Hey Maggie," you shouted over to her. "How’s everything going so far? You two need any help?"

Maggie gave you a small, but rather distracted, smile. "It’s been a quiet run, so we’re okay. We just came back a few minutes ago with some new supplies."

You nodded. "That's good. Means we won't starve anytime soon. Hey, listen, I heard Daryl’s still inside the house. Do you know how he is feeling? I really hope he is feeling better. Everything that has happened, I just... I don't know. I still can't wrap my head around it."

"Well, dad took care of him, just like he did with Carl, so I wouldn't worry too much about his condition. And if it would've worsened, dad would've told Rick already, that's for sure. But what has happened to him out there, and then the bullet? I don't know him well enough, but I think that he’s too stubborn to admit he even needed help in the first place. And that ear necklace? I'm sorry, but that was beyond creepy."

You remembered… Daryl has been out there, trying to find Sophia again. Of course, it all had to go sideways. You didn't know the details exactly, but you remembered how he had dragged himself back to the farm, looking like he’d been through hell and back. Covered in dirt and blood, and barely conscious.

Then, just when things couldn’t get any worse, Andrea took a shot at him from the roof of the RV. She’d been told to hold off by Rick, Shane, and Dale, but she fired anyway, hitting Daryl in the head, with the bullet grazing his temple.

"I’ll check on him," you now said, putting the supplies aside again. "You're right, he's too stubborn to admit it, but he needs someone to make sure he’s not pushing himself too hard. And if he could, he'd already be out there again."

As you walked towards the farmhouse, you passed by Rick, who was busy organizing and looking through different maps. He looked up at you, giving you a nod. "Hey," he said, his voice sounding rather exhausted. "Are you going to check on Daryl? Or are you going to help Beth and Lori in the kitchen?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I’m going to make sure he’s okay. Daryl's been through hell while trying to find Sophia."

"Good idea. He’s definitely been through a lot, that's true. I mean, we all have. But just… be careful with him. You know how Daryl is."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I know, Rick. That’s why I’m going to make sure he stays put and tied to the bed. Don't worry."

As you walked into the farmhouse, you could hear a voice coming from the kitchen, where Lori was preparing a meal with Beth together for Daryl and the rest of the group.

"Hello," Lori said and looked at you. "Are you going to see Daryl, or do you want to help us? Rick has been annoying me with me apparently needing help, even though Beth is helping me already."

You nodded, giving her a smile back. "Don't worry, Lori. I want to make sure Daryl's alright, you know, after everything that has happened lately."

She gave you a quick and thankful thumbs up before you continued heading to the room in which Daryl was in, but paused for a moment in front of the door, taking a deep breath. The thought of Daryl lying there, probably still hurt and so vulnerable, made your heart ache. He’d always been so strong, but seeing him in such a state was hard to imagine. And just as you were about to open the door, you heard a voice coming from the inside of the room.

You stopped, listening for a moment before pushing open the door to find Hershel standing by Daryl’s bedside.

"Evening, Hershel," you said as you entered the room, trying to keep your tone neutral despite the knot of nervousness in your stomach.

Hershel looked up, smiling at the sight of you. "Hey there, good to see you. I could use an extra pair of hands."

You moved closer to the bed, where Daryl lay, and Hershel continued, "Daryl’s been in and out of consciousness yesterday most of the time, but I’m hopeful he’ll recover fast if he gets the rest he needs. And if you could help changing the rest of the bandages right now, that would be great."

You nodded, taking a closer look at Daryl. "Sure, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I know he can be stubborn, but he needs to take it easy eventually."

"That’s the spirit. I’ve done what I can for now. He’ll need the rest."

You were still looking at Daryl as Hershel took a few steps back, who now moved slightly at the sound of your voice. His eyes opened just a little bit, and he looked at you with confusion.

"Hey, tough guy," you said. "How are you holding up so far?"

"Just peachy, as always," he answered rather annoyed.

You couldn’t help but smile at his answer. He certainly sounded like the Daryl Dixon that you all knew so far. "Well, I’m here now, so you’d better let me take care of you."

Hershel gave you another nod before finally walking out of the room. "Good, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, like more bandages, don’t hesitate to ask. We still got enough medical supplies left if needed."

"Thanks, Hershel," you replied, watching as he left the room.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the task ahead.

"What’re ya even doin’ here?" Daryl suddenly mumbled. "'M fine. Don’t need no babysittin’ bullshit. Ain't needin' ya 'round here either."

You gave him a smile, trying to hide how annoyed you already were with his usual behavior. "You’re obviously not fine, Daryl. You’ve been through a lot, and you know it. I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like trying to get up and do something you shouldn’t."

He grumbled in frustration, trying to turn away from you. "Yeah… whatever."

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. "Yeah... Too bad, huh? Because right now, that means letting me help you."

"Ain’t nothin’ you can do that Hershel didn’t already do," he mumbled again.

You set down the small medical kit Hershel had brought with him and pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Hershel did his part, sure, but it’s not just about the wounds. You need to rest and relax, and that’s where I come in. Also, taking off the old bandages and putting on new ones isn't that hard, but I doubt that you can do it yourself. And Hershel just left the room, so it's up to me now to change the rest of them. I don't care if you complain about it or not."

You then began to carefully take off the bandages from his side, where the crossbow bolt had pierced itself through. Daryl winced a little, but he didn’t complain so far, his pride keeping him quiet even though you could see how uncomfortable it was for him.

"You know, for someone who’s always acting so tough, you’re a real damn mess right now," you said, trying to break the ice with a bit of humor. "How’d you end up like that anyway? What even happened out there?"

Daryl smirked a bit to himself. "Ya think I’m gonna tell ya a story now? Hell, jus' get it over with."

You shook your head and laughed quietly, focusing on cleaning the wound first. "Hey, I'm not the one that looks like the wrong side of the bed became sentient and beat the ever-loving shit out of you. So you’re going to have to deal with me being the one to help you. It’s either that or I get someone else who’s less careful."

"Less careful?" Daryl asked, and he winced again as you applied antiseptic to the wound. "Sounds to me like yer enjoyin’ this."

You stopped for a moment and looked at him with a teasing smile. "You know what? Maybe I really am enjoying this. Or maybe I just want to make sure you’re not going to cause us any more trouble, even though we all appreciate what you did. Especially Carol."

"Ya think I need ya to look after me? I can handle myself jus' fine," he grumbled and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at you anymore.

You soon finished cleaning the wound and then continued with the fresh bandages. "Oh, I’m sure you can, Dixon. But that’s not even the point. The point is, you’re not in any shape to be running around and playing redneck cowboy."

Daryl moved slightly again, trying to get more comfortable. "Ain't in need to be told twice. Thank ya very much."

You stopped wrapping the bandage around him, waiting for him to get into a more comfortable position. "Stop it with the damn sarcasm, Daryl. For someone who’s always trying to play it cool, you’re really not doing a great job of hiding how much this is bothering you. You do realize that looking weak and needing help are two different things, right? You're far from being weak, and you've done much more for this group than you can probably imagine, even if you're doubting yourself and telling yourself that it's all bullshit in the end." You told him and then continued, putting on the final bandage. "But it's not. And right now, you need to let yourself be looked after, and you need to give us the chance to care about you. Even if it's only for once."

There was a moment of silence, and for a second he looked at you only to look away again, clearly struggling with giving you an honest answer about what he thinks.

You took a deep breath. "Alright, I’m done with the bandages. How about a quick check of your other injuries?"

Daryl nodded quickly, but you could see he was starting to relax a bit. "Yeah, fine. Jus'… make it quick, will ya? Ain't got no time for this bullshit."

You smiled and began checking his other wounds. "So, what’s your actual excuse for not telling us what has happened?"

"Ain't worth tellin’. Jus' 'nother day of me bein’ stupid," he grumbled back as an answer.

Soon enough, you finished checking his other wounds and stood up, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well, now that I’ve made sure you’re all patched up, try to get some rest. We’re all counting on you to be back on your feet soon; don't forget that."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. I’ll try to stay outta trouble while bein' tied to this damn bed."

You smiled and began to pack up the antiseptic and unused bandages, putting them back into the small medical kit. "That’s all I ask for. Get some sleep, Daryl. You know you need it. Something to eat will be ready soon."

As you put away the last of the bandages, you noticed how tense Daryl seemed to be. So you decided to take an extra moment to help him relax, thinking how a little extra care couldn’t hurt.

Your fingers soon massaged his side as you sat down once more, careful not to touch the wound. It was meant to ease the tense muscles around it a bit, but as your hands moved over his skin, you felt that he seemed to react differently when he gasped slightly.

"Ya really don’t have to," he started, but he stopped talking as you continued, your touch slow and feeling soothing.

You looked up, now looking into his eyes. "Why not? You’re all tense. And it’s not just about the injuries; your whole body’s been through a lot. A little extra care might help. There's nothing wrong with it."

He grunted, trying to remain tough, but his breathing grew heavier, betraying his growing discomfort, and you noticed how his body responded to your touch—a reaction he was clearly trying to hide.

His cock began to harden under the sheets. The outline of it was becoming more pronounced, and you could see the rise of the sheets with each breath he took.

You tried to ignore the current awkwardness of the situation, but it was impossible not to notice, and even more impossible not to look at it. Your fingers stopped, and you hesitated momentarily before continuing to massage his side, with Daryl’s eyes squeezed shut and another groan escaping his lips.

"Ugh... Daryl?" You asked quietly, your voice full of curiosity as you realized what was happening. "Are you… okay?"

He opened his eyes and turned his head away from you. "Yeah, jus', jus' let it be. Shit, jus' stop!"

But you couldn’t ignore the evident hardening beneath the sheets anymore. As you moved slightly in your seat to get a little bit closer to him, your hand accidentally brushed against his cock, and Daryl’s reaction was immediate—he sucked in a breath, his body tensing even more.

"Ain’t needin’ ya to… to be all handsy now, goddamn it!" Daryl's voice was trembling, his body shaking a bit, and his muscles straining, even as you didn't continue to massage him. But the sudden power you had over him was intoxicating, and you decided to take your chance and act on it.

You reached down and carefully pulled back the sheets covering his lower body. Daryl’s breathing hitched as you exposed him, and his cock was already hard, pushing against his pants. You could see it clearly now, the visible outline of it.

You smirked at him as you pulled the waistband of his pants down, just enough to pull his cock out and free it from his underwear.

As you pulled it out, Daryl's eyes widened as he watched you handle him. There was no need for words; the look on his face said it all. He felt vulnerable.

You gave him a smile, your hand now wrapped around his throbbing cock. "You look like you're about to lose it, Dixon."

He glared back at you, but there was no real anger in his eyes. "Ain’t fair, ya know…"

You leaned in close to him, your lips touching his ear. "Well, who said life was fair?" Your hand started to move, giving his cock a slow, torturous stroke that had him groaning. "But maybe… if you ask nicely…"

"God… Please," he groaned again, but it was clear he wasn’t used to begging, yet the desperation in his voice was there beyond doubt.

"Good boy," you murmured, and you could see how his eyes slowly closed as he gave in to your touch and words.

You soon picked up the pace, your hand moving faster, his hips bucking into your hand. "Shit, jus' like that," he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut even more tightly.

Fuck… How he wanted it. Your hand working his cock, making him forget about everything that has happened…

You could tell he was close already. His cock twitched in your hand, and the quiet sounds he was making were turning more desperate. "Please," he gasped again. "I… I can’t..."

"Oh? Already, huh?" You teased him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over it that had gathered there.

You smirked, enjoying the power you had over him. "Do you like this?" You teased him further.

"Yeah, jus' like that…" He panted, his body trembling. "Please... I need ya to touch me more. Can't fuckin' take it..."

"Touch you where, Daryl? Use your words. Be a good boy and tell me exactly what you want."

"My damn dick... please, jus' touch it." You immediately switched your pace back to pump him slowly again, and each stroke of your hand made him shiver, his moans growing a little louder with every touch.

His hips bucked involuntarily, but you kept your rhythm controlled, never speeding up, not letting him get the orgasm he wanted so desperately.

"I thought you were a tough guy. But look at you—so damn needy already. Come on, Daryl," you mumbled. "You’re not done yet. Not until I say so."

He whimpered, trying to thrust into your hand, but you stopped him, keeping him on edge.

"Fuck, please…" He groaned in frustration. "Don’t stop… jus' fuckin' finish me off already!"

You laughed, your grip tightening just enough to torture him a little more. "And why would I do that? You need to learn so much more about patience."

With each stroke, you used different pressure and speed, sometimes going slower just when he thought he was about to finally cum. The feeling was almost unbearable for Daryl, and you could see it in the way his muscles tensed and relaxed again and again, his breathing only coming out in gasps.

"How does it feel, Daryl? Being held on the edge like this?" You asked, looking over at the door to listen if somebody was coming closer.

"Shit, feels so damn good…" He gasped, his voice strained. "I jus' need… I need to… Fuck!"

You smiled, leaning closer to him once more when you were sure that you'd be left alone. "Not yet, tough guy. I want to see just how much you can take."

You continued your teasing, your strokes slow and torturous. "You can take it. I know you can. You want it, don’t you? You want to make me finish you so badly, but you’re going to have to earn it," you whispered.

Daryl could only nod. "Please… Hell, I can't take much more!" 

He couldn't take it anymore. The teasing—it was all too much. He wanted to cum. And he needed you to make him cum. Hell, he loved it. Your hand pumping his cock, teasing him, making him groan with need. The way you toyed with him, bringing him so close only to pull back? Shit, he was losing it… And the way your fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking it just right… It was driving him insane.

You simply grinned, feeling excited because of the power you held over him. "But that's good. Because I want you to remember this. Remember how much you wanted it and how much I made you wait."

His eyes were still squeezed shut, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought against the urge to give in.

With that, you continued to edge him, every touch, every stroke keeping him on the brink, pushing him to the limit of his own control.

And the feeling of sliding your hand back and forth along his thick shaft, the way he groaned and moaned quietly, trying to keep himself quiet just for you—it was everything you wanted...

"Fuck, please," he moaned again, his voice now breaking slightly.

His cock was pulsing in your hand and still leaking pre-cum, and you knew this was the moment he might not be able to hold back any longer. And just when he was about to finally stumble over the edge, you stopped pumping him completely, pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.

Daryl’s eyes flew open in shock, anger, and need. "What the fuck?" He growled, his voice hoarse. "Why’d ya stop?"

You leaned in, whispering into his ear. "Because I wanted to see you beg for it, Daryl. And you’re not quite there yet."

He glared at you in need, his cheeks red, and sweat started to form on his body. "Ya can’t jus' leave me like this! Please!"

"Oh, but I can," you answered with a smirk. "And I will. Unless you really beg for it."

Daryl closed his mouth, and you could see the muscles in his jaw twitching around as he gritted his teeth, his pride and ego fighting with his desperate need. Finally, he let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow.

"Please, please, let me cum," he whispered and finally started to beg and whimper a little more. "Please! I can't take it anymore. Please…"

God... How much he needed you. Desperately. Your hands, your touch, everything about the way you teased and pumped him, the way you handled him… It was like you knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed, and you were giving it to him for free, if only he would beg for it...

You smiled, satisfied with his response. "That’s better. Now, let’s see how much more you can take."

You went back to your teasing, your hand moving slowly over his cock, feeling him twitch and pulse again with every touch. His moans grew a little louder, even more desperate, as you brought him to the edge again and again, only to stop just before he could finally cum.

By the time you finally decided to give him what he needed, Daryl was nothing more than a trembling and pleading mess, his hips bucking toward you again and again, his eyes now looking desperatly at you.

"Fuck, you’re such a good boy, Daryl," you whispered quietly. "Look at you, trying to keep quiet for me, trying to hold back so hard. Taking it like you should… Don't stop looking at me."

You sped up, your movements rough and fast, giving him no time to adjust to the now quick pace. His body was shaking, and you could feel he was more than ready to snap.

"Yeah, you want to cum so bad, don’t you?" You teased. "Go on, Daryl. Cum for me. Show me how much you need it. How much you want it."

With a choked groan, Daryl's body tensed. His orgasm hit him hard, his cock pulsing in your grip as he came all over your hand. You kept pumping him through it, milking every last drop out of him.

"Oh, you really are a good boy, aren't you?" You mumbled. "Let it all out. You did so well for me."

He collapsed back against the bed, completely spent and exhausted, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

You reached for a towel next to the small medical kit, wiping your hand and cleaning up carefully, making sure not to leave any evidence of what had just happened behind, before you looked down at Daryl, a wide smile on your face.

"Fuck," he panted. "That was… fuck..."

"Told you I’d take care of you," you answered him, giving him a wink.

He opened his eyes, looking at you quite exhausted. "Yeah, ya did…"

He didn’t protest as you cleaned him up; he just watched and stared at you with those intense blue eyes, still catching his breath with his mouth slightly open.

"There," you said, as you were finishing everything up. "All cleaned up again."

Daryl didn’t say anything for now, just giving you a small and a little ashamed nod as you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his sweaty face.

"Get some rest now, tough guy," you whispered, pulling back and standing up. "You’re gonna need it. Remember: Be a good boy for me."

"Yeah… I... I..." He grunted in response, unable to even finish his thoughts after hearing your words, which were still making his head spin.

You simply smirked, heading towards the door. "Anytime, Daryl. Anytime."

As you walked out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied as well. Daryl Dixon might be tough as hell, but in that moment, he was completely and totally yours.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“How are you settling in?” 

“Fine.” You shrug. 

“Any instinct to nest at all?” 

You shake your head. “No.” 

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?” 

You shake your head again. “No.” 

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?” 

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.” 

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?” 

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over. 

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve. 

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?” 

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you. 

To go back in time and never present as an omega. 

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.” 

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze. 

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?” 

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you. 

You just have to ask. 

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you. 

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow? 

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?” 

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it. 

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...” 

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you. 

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.” 

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see? 

How many scars do they have inside, too? 

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.” 

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier. 

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.” 

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you? 

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.  

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents. 

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller. 

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.” 

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping. 

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast. 

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind. 

A nightlight. 

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for. 

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day. 

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he? 

You don’t know that. 

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega. 

You’re a good omega. 

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually. 

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway. 

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips. 

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you. 

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest. 

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack. 

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself. 

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him. 

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base. 

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing. 

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know. 

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you. 

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England? 

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous. 

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you. 

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness. 

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then. 

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush. 

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?” 

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.” 

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.” 

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.” 

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes. 

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?” 

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.” 

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark. 

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now. 

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions. 

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.” 

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.” 

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?” 

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.” 

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.” 

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.” 

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment. 

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long. 

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water. 

“Quite a ways.” He answers. 

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack. 

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice. 

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat. 

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours. 

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in. 

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you. 

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top. 

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.” 

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat. 

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to. 

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor. 

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him. 

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s. 

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water. 

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below. 

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here. 

“A training exercise.” He says finally. 

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it? 

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.” 

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?” 

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.” 

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench. 

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.” 

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity. 

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch. 

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.” 

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.” 

Your frown deepens. “But-” 

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.” 

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that. 

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds. 

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin. 

They’re not from the cold either. 

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while. 

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence. 

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?” 

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.” 

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area. 

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.” 

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him. 

He probably knows you already have. 

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him. 

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets. 

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment. 

He could have had worse ones, you always thought. 

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness. 

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck... 

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart. 

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you. 

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about. 

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?” 

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas. 

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.” 

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out. 

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?” 

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.” 

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action. 

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-” 

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.” 

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha. 

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly. 

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.” 

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.” 

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.” 

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion. 

You want to kneel for him. 

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase. 

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin. 

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days. 

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.” 

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?” 

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin. 

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.” 

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks. 

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout. 

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.” 

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base. 

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.” 

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style. 

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you. 

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs. 

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep. 

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.” 

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.” 

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair. 

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing. 

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?” 

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder. 

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental. 

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet. 

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.” 

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek. 

“Stubborn little omega.” 

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally. 

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again. 

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions. 

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door. 

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp. 

You know what they’re going to think. 

The stares you’ll get. 

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you. 

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy. 

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.” 

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room. 

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.” 

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend. 

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need. 

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you. 

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare. 

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.” 

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way. 

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger. 

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him. 

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.” 

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.” 

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess. 

“What do you want?” 

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer. 

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation. 

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out, 

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you. 

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega. 

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once. 

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” 

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again. 

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit. 

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything. 

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you. 

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it? 

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you. 

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent. 

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks. 

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well. 

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.” 

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins. 

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-” 

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket. 

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists. 

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch. 

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside. 

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch. 

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.” 

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your  body looking in. 

“Probably not.” Ghost says. 

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.” 

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there. 

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax. 

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it. 

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?” 

“Very high.” He answers. 

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.” 

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains. 

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit. 

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand. 

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.” 

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again. 

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind? 

“Teach me to fight.” 

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years. 

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring. 

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha? 

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence. 

Monday. Early. 

You’ll be ready. 

NEXT ->

Taglist Part 1:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10

[gothamite-rambler]

Batman has to constantly remind them he's not going down with the sinking ship when it's not his fault

Superman: Yeah, so we're turning ourselves into the government. Do you want to meet us there, or should we meet with you?

Batman: …

Wonder Woman: Batman, we're on a time crunch. Just give us your answer.

Batman (while driving, hesitating): First, I'm fine, thank you. How are you? Second, my son, who is in the car with me, is also fine… thankfully. Third, are you on crack?

Superman: I… We as a team voted that it's best if we turn ourselves into the government.

Batman (flatly): That's a decision you made. You guys have fun with it. Can I go now?

Wonder Woman: You’re part of the team! You have to turn yourself in!

Batman: Says who?

Wonder Woman: We decided as a team!

Batman: Yes, good for you. Why am I being dragged into this?

Wonder Woman and Superman: YOU ARE PART OF THIS TEAM!

Damian (in the background): Father, can we get McFlurrys later?

Batman (to Damian): Why do people eat those? They taste disgusting.

Damian: You have to get the one with the Oreos.

Superman: We’re still on the call!

Batman (annoyed): Right, not going in. Bye.

Wonder Woman: Don’t end the call! You have to hear us out.

Batman: I should just hang up, but I’m bored and need something entertaining to listen to. Proceed.

Flash (speaking first): Take one for the team, Bruce.

Batman: Okay, first, when I'm on a call with any of you, call me by my hero name. Commissioner Gordon can get away with that, but I’m not on that level with most of you. Second, I’m not on this team if you want me to do this ridiculousness. Third, seriously, are you on crack?

Green Arrow (in the background): Thank you for not saying heroin.

Damian (in the background): Father, why do they think you’re dumb?

Batman: Because they’re not very smart.

Green Arrow (expecting this): It’s amazing how badly this is going. I told you guys he’d say no, but nobody listens to me.

Batman: This is one of the rare times I agree with Arrow. I didn't sign up for a team where we all turn ourselves in for something I didn’t do.

Superman: It’s a team decision.

Batman: I don’t care.

Superman: But it’s for solidarity.

Batman: That I don’t care about.

Superman: Again, we’re a hero team. We’ve saved the world together; can’t you do this one little thing?

Green Lantern (Hal): And his response is…

Batman: Fighting villains, I enjoy. I wouldn’t be on a sports team, a firefighter team, or a doctor team with you if you're going to be this dense, and I sure as hell won't be on this team if you want me to do something this stupid. Is the brain cell you share gone for the day?

Superman: Okay, well… Kara is going with us.

Batman: And I've lost a little respect for her.

Supergirl: Hey! Wait, you had respect for me?

Batman: Did you contact any of my adult kids? Nightwing? Red Robin? I know Red Hood would just laugh before hanging up.

Superman: We haven't called them yet… but I bet they'd say yes!

Batman: No, they wouldn’t. I know that because they just texted my youngest son, who’s with me, and their messages say, “Not a chance in hell.” I didn’t even have to say anything. I raised them well.

Superman: Can’t you put aside your ego and just do this for us?

Batman: Who’s going to pick up my son from school? Go to my daughter's recital? Attend my other son’s group therapy session? Talk to my future fiancée about where I’ll be? Just curious, which one of you will handle that?

Batman waited for a few seconds, and none of the members responded.

Batman: Right. As stated, I'm not going, and if you call me again with this stupid request, I'm cutting the power to the building for a month. I will let that building decay to prove a point.

Damian: You tell 'em, Father!

Batman ended the video call without another word.

Wonder Woman: He’s getting calmer with his reactions.

Green Arrow: Yeah… Guys, maybe we don’t turn ourselves in this time. Maybe we… do something else? Anything else, because he has a point. I'm not sinking in the Titanic when there's a lifeboat.

Aquaman: Good Titanic metaphor.

Green Arrow: Thanks, man.

[suempu]

Ok but headcanons for Chilchuck begging tallman reader to sit on his face but they're too scared they'll crush him 😭

established relationship + amab and afab included + human reader + chilly chuckles has stubble !!

<3

chilchuck wouldn’t be the type to “beg” you for it. more like whine or be grumpy about it because he’s kind of embarrassed.

like i said in my previous hcs, he loves everything about going down on you. from your scent, to your moans, to your skin. he’s using his heightened senses to his advantage just to feel more of you.

-> amab

he asks you to get on top of him and fuck his face but you refuse at first. just because you think he’s not ready for it yet and you didn’t want to crush the not-so-lil guy.

chilchuck is bitter at first, feeling rejected before you quickly reassure him that you just didn’t want to hurt his throat.

“i don’t need ‘training’, it’ll be fine. just get on my face.” he almost whines.

“you’ll gag and get hurt if i immediately do that… you’re not even used to taking all of me yet.” trying to reason with him, you pepper his pouty cheeks with kisses.

you really don’t want him to have a sore throat so the next time he asks again you only give shallow pumps into his mouth. giving him a taste of your dick.

when he finally learns to take your cock all the way, chilchuck’s obsessed with the eroticism of it all.

he’s laying on the bed, hands on your thighs as you thrust into his mouth from above. gurgling noises can be heard as you moan, his warm mouth enveloping your dick as he tears up from the lack of oxygen.

you got him successfully cockdrunk as you jerk your last splurt of cum onto his face, making the small patch of stubble on his chin sticky while he looks at you with dazed eyes as he sucks the head for good measure.

he doesn’t say anything but he’ll blush and get so turned on afterwards that he ends up fucking you in the shower.

-> afab

will just ask you straight up to sit on his face and you don’t know whether to laugh or blush because it aroused you more than you thought it would.

he’ll immediately question your refusal because wdym he’s not strong enough to take all your weight???? he’s a big boy

that was a lie. but it still doesn’t ruin the idea for him, he wants you on his face so bad that he keeps going even after panting so hard each time you smother him between your thighs.

“pat my thighs if you need air, okay?”

“i can do it without needing air.”

“honey, you almost passed out last time…”

he grumbles, “i thought we agreed to never bring that up.”

chilchuck can’t really put his fingers in you whenever you sit on him since there’s not much space because of his tongue in your hole. instead he paws and teases your rim while he wiggles his nose against your clit.

loves it when he gets you to squirt, although after a few moments he’ll nag you to get in the bath and wash his soaked face.

<3 the morning after (gn)

the next morning, he’ll drink some tea to soothe his throat because of the lack of air and to keep it from being sore.

this man will not acknowledge ANYTHING he did the night before, he’ll brush everything off if you mention any embarrassing things he’s done.

“good morning. was last night okay?”

he snorts, putting his mug down. “of course. told you i could handle it.”

you hum playfully, hugging him into your chest from behind. “i don’t know… you looked delirious and… fucked out. i think you even passed out at one point-”

“i’m never going down on you ever again.”

[void-my-warranty]

Sack of Flour (18+)

Service Dog Johnny Part 7 (full part list here)

“Get your monthly while I was gone?”

“Mhmm.” You don’t look up from your hobby things at the table, chewing on your mouth as you try to get it right. 

“How was it?” Simon asks. From across the kitchen comes the soft, slow chopping sounds of someone with mediocre knife skills and an aversion to being cut. 

“Fine,” you reply with a sigh. “We were slow at work, so I took breaks. Wasn’t as bad as last time.”

He gives you an acknowledging grunt, and the chopping pauses for a few seconds before resuming. “Touch yourself while I was gone?”

Craft momentarily forgotten, you twist your head to see him tossing onion skins in the trash, as if that’s just some natural, catching-up sort of question. 

“A little.”

He leans his hands in the counter to look at you, those little lines around his eyes creasing with a smile. “Get that toy out finally?”

You roll your eyes and go back to your project. “Yes, actually.”

“On my bed, was it?” 

You’re determinedly not looking at him now. “Mhmm.”

“I missed you, darling.”

Okay, nevermind. You flash him a happy smile. “Missed you too.”

There’s a stretch of comfortable silence after that, where Simon is busy with the cooking and you’re allowing yourself some mental recuperation before the work week begins. 

He’s been in quite a good mood today. It makes you wish you had pried into his nightmares earlier, wish you had known there was some shameful burden he’s been carrying. It’s so much better, knowing. You can’t work through these parts of him if he never shows them to you. Can’t really know him, unless he allows it.

“Playing with Johnny tonight?”

You exhale when something goes a little bit wrong with your project, and you have to retrace your steps to fix it. “Uh, no, I told him no sex tonight, just come over for food.”

The air shifts. It’s heavier now, in a way that you recognize as Simon gathering his thoughts before he says something. You peer over to try and gauge his expression, figure out what you said wrong.

“When’s the last time you got to cum?” he asks casually, turning his back to get the stove going. 

A timid laugh leaves you, not really sure if he’s joking or not. “Don’t worry about me. I’m okay.”

That’s when you get his full, stupid attention on you, making your knee bounce under the table while you endure his ‘I’m not going to repeat myself’ face.

“Okay,” you relent, scrubbing a hand over your face. “Um…. Four or five days ago, maybe? Actually, no, last weekend. Really, it’s fine. I just… I don’t know. I really don’t want him to feel used.”

“Mhmm.” Simon turns away again, a hand propped on his hip and the other one hovering over the pan to check the temperature. “Me ‘n Johnny have been sitting in dirt and sweat for two weeks. I think you should let him make his own choice.”

Okay, but that would require being both honest and selfish at the same time, and your sexual needs are simply not worth doing that.

You must be taking too long to reply, or maybe staring at the table too intently, because he clears his throat a little and says, “And if I’m honest, I haven’t heard your pretty little noises in two weeks, and I’m a mite hard up for it.”

A tingle of interest sparks between your legs, effectively drowning out your previous embarrassment. Simon’s turned back to toss the onions in the pan, but you know he’s just using it as an excuse to hide for a second. Your eyes float over his broad back, the movements of his arm as he works. You’re thinking about this morning, waking up to him wrapping himself around you and sighing so deliciously into your hair. 

“Simon,” you prompt quietly, waiting for him to turn and meet your eyes. “You know, you’re really easy to love.”

He does that subtle shake of his head. “Don’t be givin—“

“Shut your mouth, or else I’m going to grab that knife and hold it on your neck until you do.” 

Your enormous boyfriend sets down the spatula without a sound, turning fully to face you with his eyes suddenly dark and foreboding.

“Don’t,” you warn, trying to scowl back, even though you’re smiling like an idiot. 

He doesn’t even have to look behind him, just clicks the stove burner off and takes a step toward you.

“Simon Riley, I’m warning you.” You desperately push your craft farther into the table so it will be spared. 

The sizzle of the onions begins to die as he closes the distance, and you shriek as he scoops you up into the air with a, “Where’s your fuckin knife now, you little ankle biter?”

Two days of not shaving unfortunately means he has a weapon, and he doesn’t hesitate to assault you with his prickly chin, weaseling it into your neck while you squeal and wriggle in his arms. 

“You’re gonna— make me— horny—“ you gasp out, fisting his hair in an effort to prevent tickles. 

“Rubbish, and you know it.”

His phone dings in his pocket, but he ignores it.

You finally manage to yank his face away from your neck, but he just nips at your exposed ear, forcing another peal of laughter out of you. “That’s probably Johnny!” you argue breathlessly. 

“Mhmm.”

“You need to check it. He’s lost or something. Broke his other ankle.”

Simon sighs, giving you one last play bite. He slings you straight over his shoulder as if you’re a sack of flour, wrapping his arm around your thighs and digging into his pocket with the other hand. 

“Oh my god,” you huff, unreasonably entertained by the downward view of his ass. 

“Ahh, yeah, Johnny’s here.”

Oh no.

Wait.

“Don’t you fucking dare—“

To your horror he just starts walking with you like that, ignoring your frantic screeches and death threats. You can practically feel the self satisfaction etched into his body as he gets you all the way to the hall, and you’re helpless to do anything but prop your arms on his back, freezing in place and holding your breath when you hear the door open. 

“Hey, Johnny.”

There’s a suspicious silence then, and you can perfectly imagine the look on Johnny's face, confronted with your whole ass stuck next to Simon’s head. You just know your boyfriend has that deadpan expression plastered on, the one he uses whenever he’s fucking with someone. 

“Got some wine,” comes Johnny’s amused voice.

“Cheers, mate.”

You wind back as far as you can, furiously smacking Simon’s ass with one solid hit, and you’re rewarded by his pained grunt and a highly satisfying sting to your palm.

Next Part

Dividers by @the-aesthetics-shop

Chronological Read-Through Path

[harunayuuka2060]

*The dorm leaders woke up confused; staring at Kalim's empty bed.*

Leona: That dumb bastard— Did he go out again?

Riddle: We should go search for him right away!

Malleus: Hold on. I hear a commotion outside.

"Poor thing—he was killed before the hunt."

"We should have seen it coming. He was foolish."

"I wonder if they’ll let us preserve his body."

"Don’t even think about it. He’s been getting on everyone’s nerves. I’m sure it’s already been mutilated by now."

The dorm leaders: ...

Riddle: *was about to rush outside when Leona grabbed him*

Riddle: Let go of me, Leona-senpai!

Leona: What? Do you want to follow him to his grave?

Riddle: ...

Vil: ...

Vil: We should call the fake Prefect to find out what happened.

Malleus: There's no need.

MC(?): *opens the door to the room*

MC(?): I'm here to deliver the unfortunate news of your friend's passing.

Idia: You... I know you're on our side. Why didn’t you do anything to help him?

MC(?): He violated the rules.

Riddle: THAT'S ALL YOU COULD SAY?!

Azul: Riddle!

Riddle: *has grabbed them by the collar* Did you just stand by and watch while he was being killed?!

MC(?): I understand... your sadness...

Azul: Riddle! *pulling him away from them*

Riddle: LET ME GO, AZUUUL!!!

MC(?): ...

Malleus: You should leave now.

MC(?): I'm sorry that it has come to this. *they said as they left the room*

*Riddle continued to cry over Kalim's death while Azul tried to comfort him. The rest of the dorm leaders remained silent.*

Professor Trein(?): *staring at MC(?)*

Professor Trein(?): It must have been difficult.

MC(?): What are you trying to say?

Professor Trein(?): You killed him.

MC(?): ...

Professor Trein(?): Soon, it will cause an imbalance. You knew that, didn’t you?

MC(?): ...

MC(?): I'm fortunate... that his presence isn't as significant as the others.

Professor Trein(?): Even so, this should be the first and last time. If you try to intervene again, their patience will run out.

MC(?): Yes... I appreciate your concern.

Leona(?): Look at them. Is his death that big of a deal? *chuckles*

Vil(?): Shouldn't they feel relieved that a heavy burden has been lifted off their shoulders? I don't understand the need to mourn.

Malleus: We need to see the body.

Leona(?): Body? Hmm... That would be hard... *smirks* Unless you enjoy solving puzzles, you're free to collect his parts.

Malleus: *glares at him*

Leona(?): *chuckles*

Idia: Malleus... Please calm down.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: If you tell me the location, I'll go and collect them myself.

Leona(?) and Vil(?): ...

Leona(?): Huh. Very well.

Vil(?): Leona—

Leona(?): It's fine. He wants the scraps. Let him.

Azul: I hate to admit it, but this place is unexpectedly decent.

Idia: ...

Idia: Hey, Malleus. Have you noticed something?

Malleus: Yes.

Leona: What are you two whispering about?

Malleus: The doppelgangers, they didn't follow us here.

Vil: You're right.

Riddle: I could see Kalim from a distance...

Leona: Ha... Did someone sew him back up?

Vil: Leona.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *approaches the corpse*

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Rosehearts, come here.

Riddle: Malleus-senpai?

Malleus: There is something you need to see.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: *comes over*

Malleus: Do you notice anything?

Riddle: ...

Malleus: Look closely.

Riddle: ...

Malleus: *sigh* This is not Al Asim.

Riddle: Huh?

Leona: What?

Vil: What's going on?

Leona: The lizard bastard, he's saying that it's not Kalim.

The rest of the dorm leaders: ...

Riddle: Malleus-senpai, are you saying...

Malleus: *smiles* We've been tricked.

The rest of them: !!!

Kalim: MC, are you sure it's okay for me to leave alone? Won't you get punished?

MC(?): *has led him to the cave Jamil(?) told them last time*

MC(?): ...

MC(?): You are the weakest in your group.

Kalim: Haha... Sorry. I think that's why you saved me from him.

Kalim: But if you could fight, why have you been allowing them to treat you like that?

MC(?): ...

MC(?): Here. Leave the key.

Kalim: Okay.

MC(?): ...

MC(?): The others will follow suit... I just need more time for that to happen.

Kalim: ...

Kalim: *smiles* *hugs MC*

MC(?): !!!

Kalim: I... I will also call for help!

MC(?): ...

MC(?): Please be on your way.

Kalim: Hm! Take care of the others for me!

MC(?): ...

MC(?): I will try my best.

[selarina]

tw angst, breakup

gojo satoru who’s just so used to kindness and patience from you because from the moment you met him, you knew you were soft for him. practically invisible mush. but things have changed now, he broke up with you. and he’s seeing you without the blue and white hues of kindness for the very first time.

it’s almost noble that he broke up with you. one could see it that way, but you see it as selfish.

you always knew his family and jujutsu society wanted him to marry someone with influence and power. marriage was a matter of politics after all.

but you didn’t really care. you knew what you were getting into after all. you’re not an impulsive person, you think deeply and rationally about these things. you didn’t jump face first into love, you slowly sunk yourself down further and further until you reached the riverbed.

so when he mentioned that his family was talking about marriage with Aya Tsukino, the infamous crystalline sorcerer — you were barely phased.

it admittedly hurt a little. you did always imagine a more traditional route with love — with altars, rings, vows, cakes and champagne. i mean, who doesn’t? but you saw reality for what it was and told him it would be fine.

that you would deal with it when it comes, that you would be okay being his dirty little secret if it was okay with ms. aya

but he’s a week away from the wedding — the biggest of the millennia so to speak, and he should be out there attending a celebratory party in his name, but he’s out here standing in your dimly lit bedroom breaking up with you.

you don’t react when he breaks up with you, that wasn’t when you started withholding your kindness from him. no, that night you gave him a measured response — i understand. no, you’re right. yeah, we can try to be friends. i understand. take care. and he surprised that you remained as calm as you always do, but he supposes he shouldn’t have doubted you.

but when he shows up on the day before his wedding — his excuse being he really wanted his jacket back — he sees you laced with anger for the very first time.

he can tell he’s interrupting but he doesn’t really care, he’s not the kind to but he’s especially not the kind to care when he’s practically signing away his love life tomorrow day. so he barges in regardless, and you let him.

he sees the opened bottle of wine — half-empty, a glass of red wine — half-empty again. a romcom of some sort up on TV, throes and throes of pillows and blankets on your couch. there’s a sadness that fills his already bleating heart up, but he doesn’t break.

he maintains the facade — he wants his jacket back, and he definitely isn’t here to see you.

you come out of your room — your expression neutral still as you say, “i can’t find it.”

and he believes it, but if you can’t find it, he needs to leave now and he doesn’t want to. so he insists that he needs it, because he “can’t sleep without it.”

and you frown, “you’ve been sleeping fine for a week.”

“i haven’t,” he says, plainly. you notice the dull blue from behind his black glasses and you think maybe he isn’t lying, so you merely nod as you go back into your room to scramble through your wardrobe.

it takes you about 20 minutes but you show up, and he notices the lack of a hoodie in your hand.

“couldn’t find it?” he asks.

“nope,” you respond. “are you sure it’s not with you?”

“i’m sure,” he says. “can you look agai—”

“nope,” you say. your voice comes out stern and he notices the reclusiveness in your posture. hands folded, and eyes almost a glare. “i think you need to leave. i'll send it with takashi if i find it.” takashi, your driver.

“but i need—”

“for gods sake — gojo. you’re a grown man. take a fucking pill or something.”

there’s no mistaking the anger in your voice now. no, it’s not just slight agitation, it’s anger. it's anger, and it's making you see things in shades of orange.

"what—" he says lowly, as he looks no worse than a kicked puppy. he reaches for his glasses, taking them off as you see his eyes for the first time in 2 weeks. they looks sad, but then again, they always had a certain sadness to them.

his eyes change now, ever so slightly, there's a certain anger brimming through the blue as he stares back at you now, "all i asked for is my jacket."

"well, if gojo satoru wants his jacket. i guess i should put my life on hold, and scramble across the earth to look for it, right?" you roll your eyes with a scoff. and he's taken aback. you've never been petty. you've never been this detached. not when it comes to him.

"not like i'm interrupting much," he speaks up and he knows that he's going to regret what he's about to say before the words even leave his mouth. "you're having a sob fest, if anything — me showing up here is helping."

"are you fu—" and then you laugh, but there's no mirth in your laughter. "how dare you even talk to me like that? you'r— you fucking break up with me. with your bullshit excuses. and then you have the fucking audacity to talk to me like this?"

"bullshit excuses? i broke up with you. for you," he yells back. "you would've been miserable, baby."

"i would've managed," your response is immediate.

"you were upset when aya kept kissing my cheek."

"i never said that."

"you didn't have to," he groans. "it's my- it was job to see that. and that's why i know you would've been miserable."

"i've told you this time and time again. i don't mind being miserable as long as i got to be with you. what's so hard to understand about that?"

"what kin- why? why even—"

"because i love you."

"what kind of love makes you debase yourself in such a way. it's fucking pathetic," he replies, and there's some contempt in his voice.

you see how he views you now more clearer — like you're some sad thing. like you're the world's greatest loser and you should dig yourself into a hole until you've moved on from him.

you're only used to love from him, and that made your decision to stay with him feel revolutionary — like you could've lived the worst life socially if it meant you could stay in love but now — now you're not sure about any of this.

"you would've been miserable. so i made the decision for us. you'll thank me one day," he says.

"maybe," you say with a sigh. you're tired and frankly all you want is for him to leave so you can chug the rest of that wine and pass out. "maybe, but it was our relationship. and you made this decision all by yourself. so don't ever blame me for our end."

part 2

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4663

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: I was reading a book series and got this idea. Enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say, poking at the sad bowl of cereal before you.

“Why not?” Your wife frowns at you from across the kitchen.

“Because we’re doing fine! We don’t need any extra help,” you emphasize.

“You’re not the one stuck at home all day cleaning the house and cooking all the meals,” she snaps. Your eyes shift to the bowl of cereal you’d had to make yourself because she was too busy at her pilates class to cook you anything more substantial. 

“This house is huge compared to our old one,” your wife continues. “And if you’re not going to help me around here, I’m going to hire someone who will.” Annoyance burns in your chest because you run your own company full-time, and your wife inherited all her wealth from her parents and hadn’t worked a real job in her entire life. “Besides, Steve’s the one who recommended her and he said she’s been really helpful to his family.”

“You seem to spend a lot of time talking to Steve,” you note, although you feel guilty for calling out your neighbor across the street. You’d spoken to him a few times and he seemed like a decent guy, but you weren’t stupid enough to not notice how often your wife would find her way over to his lawn multiple times a week.

“You’re at work all day and don’t answer your phone half the time,” she says. “You don’t expect me to stay in this gigantic house all by myself doing chores, do you? I’m not a house servant, Y/N.”

“No, of course you’re not,” you apologize. You glance at the Omega watch that had been an engagement gift from your wife. “Hey, I have to get going to work now.” Dutifully, you bring your bowl over to the sink and stop to kiss your wife on the way there. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Remember, the pool guy is coming at noon so you need to be back before then,” she says. “I don’t want to be left by myself with him.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” You’re not sure why she’s so nervous around the pool technician; he was about 30 years older than the both of you and had been very sweet and professional when he came to give you a quote for the maintenance.  

“No, don’t try. Do it,” she insists.

You try to hold in your sigh. “Yes, dear.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha curses to herself as she drags her vacuum cleaner and basket of cleaning supplies up the sidewalk to your home. Your wife–Mrs. L/N, as she had asked Natasha to call her, while you had no problem being on a first name basis with her–had told Natasha she didn’t want her parking in front of your house, requiring her to park around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been a significant issue except it meant Natasha had to lug everything to your house every time she stopped by.

“Do you need any help, Nat?” Steve Rogers, the friendly neighbor whom she also worked for, waved at her from across the street.

“No, no, I’m fine!” she squeaks, not wanting to bother him. But Steve, ever the gentleman, runs over anyway and she has no choice but to turn over her supplies to him. 

“You know, you can always just park in front of my house,” he offers, bundling the items in his muscular arms.

“That’s okay,” Natasha says. “Mrs. L/N made it very clear that as much as she needs my help, she doesn’t want people to know I’m here.”

Steve doesn’t argue with her and walks her to your front door. “Well, if you ever need anything–”

“Natasha! You’re late!” The front door swings open and Natasha finds herself face-to-face with your wife. “Oh, hello, Steven.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I was just helping Natasha with her things,” Steve explains.

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She can handle herself. Right, Natasha?” She turns a judgmental eye on Natasha.

“I appreciate the help, Steve,” is all Natasha says.

“You’re welcome. See you both later!” He quickly jogs back to his home. 

Mrs. L/N ushers Natasha into the house. “I left a grocery list on the kitchen counter for you. If you can’t find something, please call me before you pick any substitutions,” she instructs briskly. “I have to go out to the HOA meeting, but Y/N should be home by noon before the pool man comes. Do not let him into the yard if Y/N or me are not home yet, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Natasha nods her head, fighting the urge not to roll her eyes at this lady.

“Good.” She leaves towards the garage and Natasha can hear the purr of her Mercedes starting up.

It was Natasha’s second week working for your family, and she hated nearly every second of it–mostly because of your spoiled, bratty wife. But the few times Natasha had met you, she thought you were as kind and charming as could be (and very nice to look at). She wondered how the two of you had gotten together in the first place and what you saw in your wife. She was one of the bossiest clients Natasha had ever had, and Natasha had seen her be not much nicer to you. Plus, she was definitely hitting on Steve, but Natasha knows he wouldn’t cheat on his wife with yours.

She dumps her supplies in the foyer, then goes into the kitchen to find the grocery list. It only takes a single glance to know that your wife is totally fucking with her–what the hell is a rambutan? Natasha sighs loudly, wishing there were someone around to hear her distress. As much as she wants to quit working for your family, she needs the money. And she was still so new to the business, she couldn’t afford to make any bad impressions. 

With another sigh, she balls the grocery list into her fist and heads back out.

***********************************************************************

Natasha returns from her grocery trip just in time to see you pull into the garage in your bright green luxury sports car she doesn’t even recognize the manufacturer’s logo of. You get out and wave to her and she smiles back, almost forgetting the awful phone call she had to make to your wife when she searched the entire store and still couldn’t locate the rambutans (she ended up having to make a separate trip to Whole Foods for them). 

“Hi, Natasha!” you say, running down the driveway to help her with the grocery bags.

“Oh, don’t worry about these,” Natasha says, trying to swat your hands away. “It’s my job to take them into the house–”

“No, let me help,” you insist, scooping up four bags in one hand in one go. “Oh! Rambutans. These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them.” 

Instantly, Natasha wants to take back all the curses she had put on the spiky red fruit. “It was nothing,” she lies, making a mental note to buy out the store’s entire stock for you the next time she goes.

With your help, it takes half the amount of time to get all the groceries in the house. You also insist on helping her put everything away, showing her the proper drawers in the fridge for the fruit and vegetables versus the meat, and where the cereals went in the pantry. Natasha is beyond grateful for you; she knows your wife would have happily stood there and watched her struggle, then loudly criticized her for not knowing better.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her hand inadvertently brushing yours when you pass her the last bag of apples. She withdraws from you almost too quickly, her skin hot where you touched her, but you don’t seem to notice, distracted by the ringing of the doorbell. 

“That must be Stan.” You dash off to meet the pool man. 

Natasha fills the dishwasher as much as she can and starts in, then goes to finish washing the oddly-shaped pots and pans that didn’t fit in the sink. The kitchen window looks out to your yard that is probably bigger than the footprint of her entire apartment complex. The pool has two different levels, but both are filled with a suspicious green water. You’re standing poolside talking to Stan, an older gentleman whom Natasha personally knew to be very kind from her few interactions with him when he conducted work on the neighborhood pool’s. 

She’s so busy looking at you, fantasizing about a life where this big house could be hers, with a doting partner who would take care of her and raise a family with her, she doesn’t hear the front door opening until she hears the unholy screech from your wife.

“Natasha, what are you doing?” she yells, hurrying over and snatching the soapy sponge right out of Natasha’s gloved hand.

“Um–the dishes? They didn’t all fit in the dishwasher–”

“You turned on the dishwasher?” Her eyes grow wide and her mouth drops like Natasha’s just confessed to a murder. “Didn’t I tell you we don’t run the dishwasher before seven p.m.?” Natasha is certain she’s never heard this instruction before in her life and watches as she rushes over to turn off the dishwasher mid-cycle and throw it open. “Also, you didn’t pack this correctly, you definitely could’ve fit those pots in here.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll rearrange it now,” Natasha says, trying not to get flustered. Surely your wife wouldn’t fire her over such a minor transgression, would she?

“Is Stan here yet?” she asks, but before Natasha can answer, she is interrupted by a shout and a splash. Both of them crane their necks to look out the window, where they can see Stan floating facedown in the pool. You’re kicking your shoes off and throwing your phone onto the lawn before you run up to the pool’s edge and dive in with a form that would rival an Olympic swimmer’s. Your wife screams and darts towards the back door, Natasha following right behind her.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”

“He fell in!” you answer, coughing out water as you loop your arms under the elderly man and kick back towards the stairs. “He just zoned out when he was talking to me and suddenly tipped over into the pool. I think he’s having a seizure.”

“I’ll call 911!” Natasha offers, not wanting to be as useless as your wife. She struggles to get her phone out of her pocket and punches in the number with shaky fingers.

Your wife hovers by the pool stairs, making no move to assist you as you struggle to drag the old man out, clearly weighed down by the water drenching both of your clothes. Stan is holding himself in a position so stiff it reminds Natasha of a mannequin. 

“Ugh, don’t get me wet, Y/N!” your wife complains as the brackish water sprays everywhere.

“I’m trying not to!” you snap, gently laying Stan on the grass.  

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a dispatcher picks up.

“Hello? Yes, I’m at 2800 Sherwood Drive. There’s a man here who fell into the pool and we just got him out, but he’s having some kind of medical episode,” Natasha says, putting her phone on speaker. The dispatcher asks if he’s breathing and you confirm. 

“Can roll him to his side and stabilize his head?”

Without hesitation, you peel off your shirt and roll it into a soggy ball, gently tucking it under the man’s head like a makeshift pillow. Natasha tries not to stare at your nicely sculpted torso, highlighted further by the water droplets on your skin, but her face burns in shame when she sees your wife glaring at her ogling.

“Okay, his head is stabilized!” you call out.

“Perfect, emergency services are two minutes away.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a big scene at the house by the time the ambulance pulls up. Your wife eventually covers you up with a towel, but you’re insistent on waiting outside for Stan to be carefully loaded into the ambulance before you finally allow your wife to usher you back into the house, still dripping water everywhere.

“Thank you for the help today, Natasha,” you say, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle pat as you walk by her towards the house. Natasha doesn’t even know how to respond but nods furiously and mumbles that “she didn’t help much.”

“You can go now, Natasha,” your wife says curtly, and Natasha doesn’t question her and practically flees the premise.

***********************************************************************

It’s been a few weeks since the pool incident and Natasha is barely able to hold onto her sanity with the never-ending list of ridiculous tasks from your wife. When she holds a fundraiser meeting for a charity Natasha is sure she made up on her own, she calls on Natasha as her personal servant, forcing her to serve a collection of the snobbiest women in the neighborhood. Maybe I should take up meditation, Natasha thinks to herself as she prepares a third pitcher of iced tea because the first two “did not have the right balance of sugar to tea,” according to your wife, despite that Natasha had put in exactly one-third cup of sugar as requested.

Natasha doesn’t see you much around the house anymore, and she wonders if your wife purposely scheduled her around your work hours, or told you to stay away from her. She wants to ask you if there were any updates about Stan’s condition (there was no way she was going to get that information from your wife). She missed hearing your voice and seeing your smile…wait.

She shakes her head–she shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You’re her employer and you’re married (to a bitch). It would be entirely inappropriate and dangerous to pursue you, so she would just have to make do with ogling you from afar. Besides, a lot of her clients did not show her respect, likely due to the nature of her job, so just because you were courteous and respectful towards her, didn’t mean you felt a specific way about her.

“You know, Y/N used to be fat.” Natasha startles when your wife walks up behind her. She almost drops the picture frame she’d been dusting of the two of you on a beach, holding hands as you walked towards the sunset in the background.

“Excuse me?” Natasha asks. 

“Fat and poor,” Mrs. L/N adds, much to Natasha’s horror. 

“That’s an awful thing to say about your partner,” Natasha says.

She shrugs. “I don’t want anything to be sugarcoated for you. All of this–” She gestures around to the grandiose-ness of the house, and points to a more recent photo of you, where you’re carrying your wife in your arms, the bulge of your biceps and wideness of your shoulders stretching out your shirt. “–was not a thing when we first started dating. I was there when Y/N had nothing and was no one.”

“Okay.” Natasha wonders why she’s acting like she did you a favor, when you are clearly the catch in the relationship. But then it suddenly dawns on her the reason she’s saying this is because she knows Natasha might have a small crush on you.

“Y/N would never leave me, because I was there from the beginning,” Mrs. L/N says loftily.

“Of course,” Natasha says, fearing she has made a terrible mistake. “Y/N must be very lucky to have you.”

“You have no idea,” your wife smirks. “So let me be a reminder to keep things professional in my house. I’d hate for you to lose your job here. As far as I know, this is the only neighborhood that employs you, and your reputation is everything, isn’t it? One bad review could spoil the whole bunch, and you’d be off having to peddle your services elsewhere.” Icy fear pits at the bottom of Natasha’s stomach. “That is, if the police don’t pick you up first.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha whispers, even though she knows exactly what Mrs. L/N is talking about. She had been foolish to assume her past would never follow her, but how could your wife have found out? Clint had assured her that with a new name and a new location, she’d be untraceable. 

“Because they’d have to arrest you from stealing Y/N away from me,” Mrs. L/N laughs shrilly. Natasha chuckles nervously, although she was certain adultery was not a punishable offense in the state. “But I’m just joking. That would never happen, right?”

“Never,” Natasha promises, hoping her cover will stay hidden for now. 

“Good.”

***********************************************************************

“How was your day at work, honey?”

“Busy,” you grunt, moodily poking at the chicken pot pie Natasha had made before she went home. The food tastes good–it’s better than anything your wife has ever cooked, you think privately, but you don’t have much of an appetite. The end of the financial quarter was rapidly approaching and it had become extremely apparent to you that the profits of your company were not outweighing the expenses for the third quarter in a row. You were digging yourself a bigger and bigger grave, dipping into your personal investments to pay your way out of debt. It was the most stressful period of your life, with no relief in sight, and your wife wouldn’t understand the pressure.

“Sorry to hear that,” she says, although her words don’t come across as very genuine. “My day wasn’t so great either. I got into an argument earlier with Mrs. Harkness at the HOA meeting.” Your wife clicks her tongue. “Some of these women will go to war over their lawn decorations, I swear.”

A jab bubbles on the tip of your tongue; was she really trying to compare an HOA meeting to your very real, very stressful job running a business? But you stay quiet, shoveling another spoonful of pot pie into your mouth.

“Where’s Natasha?” you ask. Usually she stayed around for dinner (not that your wife would let her sit at the same table as you), but you hadn’t seen her in the house for a while.

“I ran out of time today, so I sent her out to grab some things for tomorrow,” she answers. When Natasha had first been hired, you had been under the impression that she was exclusively a housekeeper, helping with all the household chores your wife couldn’t complete. But you had heard about her running grocery trips and waiting on your wife and her friends during meetings, turning Natasha into more of a personal assistant than anything. You hoped she was okay with that; you knew how demanding your wife could be sometimes.

“Oh, okay.” You finish your helping of pot pie in silence, then go to place your plate in the dishwasher, before going into the bedroom to retire for the night. As you’re washing your face in the sink, you hear your wife pad up behind her.

“Sorry you’ve been really stressed lately,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you respond, drying your face on a towel, going back into the bedroom to find your pajamas so you can take a shower.

“Y/N.” Your wife stops you as you’re searching through the dresser for your pajamas. When you look at her, she’s eyeing you with her bottom lip between her teeth. She struts towards you, slowly sinking to her knees and looking up at you. “Maybe I can do something to make you feel better?” 

With you being so busy with work and her busy with the new move, the two of you hardly had time for each other. Plus, your wife tended to be on the particular side and never seemed to be in the mood if you initiated. It was a little frustrating sometimes, but you found ways to cope and besides, it did make the times she was ready for you all the more enjoyable.

She pulls down your pants, palming at your boxers and causing you to groan. You unbutton your shirt as you feel your body start to heat up and let it slide off your shoulders. 

“Fuck, don’t tease me,” you grunt when she leans forward and nibbles on the exposed flesh of your thigh. 

“You need to savor the moment,” she says, although you can tell she’s just as impatient when she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and draws them down to the floor. Your heavy cock bobs out, slapping against your abs before your wife grabs onto it and brings it to her mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, tipping your head back when you feel her lips wrap around your cock. You wrap your hand in her hair, pumping your hips forward to sink your length into the heat of her throat. She grips onto your thighs to steady herself, the faintest of choking noise escaping her. You grunt in satisfaction, thrusting a little harder until the tip of your cock bumps the back of her throat. She whines louder, but doesn’t pull away, and your knees are practically shaking at the sight of her deepthroating all of you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you praise and her cheeks flush red. “Are you gonna let me finish in your mouth?” you ask, and she nods in response, the movement causing a burst of pre-cum to leak out of your cock. You stroke a stray hair out of her face so you can look into her eyes when you finish. “That’s my good girl.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha lets herself into your home, juggling three heavy bags that she’s pretty sure are cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She passes by the kitchen, confused to see it empty; when she had left the two of you were just settling down to eat. She puts the bags by the foot of the table, recalling the time Mrs. L/N had screamed at her for putting “dirty outside bags” on the place where you ate. She wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

Checking her phone, Natasha sees that your wife had sent her a text less than five minutes ago.

Natasha sighs. It had already been a long day, but she wasn’t given an ounce of leeway. She knows better than to walk away from an unfinished task (especially around your wife), so she trudges up the stairs and turns into the guest room. Hopefully her presence can go unnoticed, and your wife will magically find the folded clothes long after Natasha is gone. 

There are a total of three shirts and a pair of jeans left to fold. Natasha knows it would be too much to ask your wife to do on her own. She grits her teeth and folds the clothes, taking the better part of a minute, then looks around and realizes she doesn’t remember where she put the laundry basket. 

Maybe she had already brought it to the master bedroom, but she knew she couldn’t just leave it on the guest bed, or your wife would probably fire her. Natasha gathers up the clothes and walks down the hall to the master bedroom, but freezes in her tracks when she hears noises coming out of the bedroom.

Moaning noises, specifically.

Natasha can’t stop herself as she moves closer to the door, positioning herself to peer through the crack in between the door and the wall. She sees your wife on her knees, her head bobbing against your waist as you stand there, half-naked, moaning and thrusting your hips forward.

Natasha feels like she can’t breathe, totally shocked and embarrassed to have caught the two of you in a moment. She has a strange sense that your wife had set her up like this on purpose, but the thought quickly dissipates as she finds herself moving closer to the door.

“That’s my good girl.”

Natasha’s stomach flips when she hears you say this, even though it isn’t directed to her. But maybe one day it could be. 

She’s practically pressed up against the door, the fear of being caught burning away in her eagerness to keep watching you. The way the muscles in your stomach and thighs flex as your hips roll in a sinful rhythm. Natasha is almost ashamed at how fast she feels the arousal building in her own stomach.

You grunt louder and slow down as you seem to near release. Natasha can’t help but wonder what you must taste like and if she could even fit you down her throat. Your wife seems to be struggling with your size, but Natasha would do everything in her power to make you happy and not let any drop go to waste.

Without warning, your wife removes you from her mouth. Both you and Natasha gasp–you probably in frustration, and Natasha because she’s shocked at how big you are. Your cock is shiny with saliva and pre-cum and is so hard it looks like it’s about to burst.

“I didn’t finish,” you whine as your wife stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She puts her hand on your chest and pushes you back until you stumble onto the bed.

“I know. But I don’t want you to finish in my mouth, I want you to finish inside me.”

“Oh.” Your wife takes off her pants and climbs onto you.

Natasha knows how wrong it is for her to stand there and continue watching. She should’ve left a long time ago. But somehow, she knows your wife set her up to see this, and instead of running away in shame, Natasha is totally absorbed and her obsession with you only skyrockets. 

The headboard creaks against the wall as your wife rides you, both of you moaning in unison. Natasha’s eyes are stuck on you, trying to memorize your body’s reactions and wondering if she’d ever be the cause of them one day. You tilt your head back into the pillows, your back arching off the mattress, your hands wrapped around your wife’s waist as you thrust up into her. 

“I’m ready. I’m gonna cum,” you announce breathlessly.

Natasha hopes you’ll say those words to her one day. But she turns away as you finish, scolding herself for her unprofessional and frankly creepy behavior. She drops the folded clothes to the floor, knowing your wife will eventually find them and know of their origin. Maybe she’ll get fired for this; if anything, it’d be for the better. She doesn’t trust herself to be around you anymore–not that she’d ever be so bold as to make a move and disrespect your marriage, but she’d never be able to look at you the same way again.

She quickly pads down the stairs and leaves the house, the emptiness in her heart and core almost reaching a painful point.

***********************************************************************

You jerk your hips up a final time as you cum, dropping back onto the bed exhausted and spent. 

“Hmm, that was fun,” your wife pants against your neck, and you wrap your arm around her tightly, pulling her closer to your body. 

“We can shower together?” you suggest, digging your fingers teasingly into her naked hips. 

“Sure. Give me a minute.” She lays her head on your chest.

Despite your differences, you were truly happy to have this woman by your side through it all. She had been your longest supporter and that had meant everything to you when no one else believed in you.

You kiss her forehead softly. “I love you, Wanda.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Actually screaming and crying. Nat please come save us 😭

Click here for Part 2!

@holiday-house-of-m I finally kept my promise to you after 84 years.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[wordsmeetwbb]

Whatever Azzi Wants, Azzi Gets

Word count: 3.3k

Content: smut (P receiving, tiniest hint of degradation)

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: This is my second attempt at writing this. The first was so terrible I deleted the entire 2.5k words instead of editing. I'm a lot happier with this so I hope y'all like it! Full disclosure, this was not edited well, so let me know if there's mistakes or anything. Enjoy the smut!

________

Azzi wasn’t used to Paige letting her be in charge in the bedroom. Not that she was necessarily being cooperative in their current position, but she had agreed to let Azzi top tonight. Not only that, but Azzi had managed to convince Paige to let her use the strap. Paige’s strap, that she had never in a million years thought Azzi would ever wear. For now, it sat untouched on Paige’s dresser.

There had been a couple of times in Paige and Azzi’s relationship in which Azzi had brought up switching their roles around a little bit. She was perfectly satisfied with their sex life, but Paige was so bossy in everyday life, and then she got to be bossy in the bedroom too. It was giving her a bigger ego than was good for Azzi’s health. Luckily for Azzi, the solution to Paige’s overconfidence in her strap game lay in Azzi being a better three-point shooter than Paige.

The two girls had made a bet about who could make more threes in two and a half minutes. The winner got whatever they wanted. Paige made an impressive 49 shots in the allotted time. Much to Azzi’s amusement, her girlfriend had started bragging about her win before Azzi even had her turn. Then, Paige had to stand and watch in shame as Azzi made 50 shots. The disappointment on her face was almost reward enough for Azzi, but she was determined to tear Paige’s ego down even more.

That’s how they had ended up in their current situation: Paige completely naked, pressed into her mattress, with Azzi trailing kisses down her stomach. This wasn’t an unfamiliar position for either of them. As much as Paige enjoyed eating her girlfriend out, Azzi equally enjoyed returning the favor. It was the knowledge of what was coming next that made the whole thing so exhilarating. Azzi’s goal for the moment was to make Paige forget about all of it.

Azzi kept leaving kisses across Paige’s skin, avoiding the wetness in between her thighs. She’d get there later. For now, she was having too much fun teasing. Paige never let her take this much time before just pulling her up to where she really needed her.

Azzi slid further down the bed, trailing more kisses up Paige’s leg from her ankle. She kissed her calves, the scar on her knee, the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs. Paige was breathing hard, wiggling on the bed in an attempt to get Azzi’s mouth on her cunt.

”Az, no more teasing. You had fun, now just touch me, come on-“ Paige insisted. Azzi rubbed one hand up and down Paige’s leg soothingly. The other she brushed over Paige’s stomach and up to her tits, taking one in her palm and squeezing. Paige’s head flew back into the pillow and Azzi had to stifle a laugh. Instead, she brushed her thumb over the nipple.

”Okay, okay, enough. If you’re gonna eat me out, just fucking do it. You’ve made whatever point you’re trying to make, baby.” Azzi frowned.

”We talked about this. You’re not in charge today, I am,” she told her girlfriend. Paige groaned and sat up.

”I thought you just wanted to fuck me with the strap. I didn’t think you were serious about wanting to be dominant or whatever.” Azzi slapped the inside of Paige’s thigh lightly in warning.

”Hey, I won the bet. I made more shots than you, so we’re doing this my way tonight. You get to be in charge all the time. Just relax for once. Your turn to be the pillow princess,” Azzi joked. Paige sighed.

”Fine, but can you just hurry up and touch me?” Azzi pushed Paige back down onto the bed and settled her face in between Paige’s legs.

”I should just keep teasing you. That’s what you do to me when I’m bratty,” Azzi mused.

”Don’t you fucking dare-“ Azzi cut her off by licking stripe up through her folds. Paige didn’t even have time to bite back her moan. Azzi repeated the motion, dragging her tongue through Paige’s wetness.

”Better, baby?” She asked sweetly. Paige didn’t bother to reply. Instead, one of her hands came down to bury itself in Azzi’s curls, pushing her deeper between her legs. Azzi was too preoccupied to reprimand her. Her mouth was already busy, alternating between kitten licks against Paige’s clit, long strokes through her folds, and dipping her tongue inside.

Paige was quickly becoming a mess under her. Every time Azzi flicked her tongue against her clit, more of Paige’s wetness dripped down onto the bed. She was bucking her hips against Azzi’s face, forcing Azzi to grip her girlfriend’s hips to keep her still. And the sounds she was making—moans and groans, deep and throaty whenever Azzi’s tongue touched her clit.

”Just like that- yeahhh, right there, ma,” Paige groaned. Azzi sucked Paige’s clit into her mouth, letting her teeth graze just slightly, knowing it drove Paige crazy. As expected, Paige’s hand fisted in Azzi’s hair. She moaned her name and Azzi knew she was getting close. She kept her mouth focused on Paige’s clit and slid her fingers down to play with Paige’s wetness. Her hips stuttered and Azzi took that as her sign to slide two fingers into Paige’s soaked pussy.

“Fuck, yes Az, almost there,” Paige panted. Azzi kept sucking Paige’s clit while she thrust her fingers slowly in and out. Paige cried out on one particularly deep thrust so Azzi did it again, and again, and again, until Paige was clenching around her fingers and moaning loudly.

“Coming, I’m coming, fuck Azzi,” she moaned. Azzi fucked her through it. Paige was so tight around her fingers that it was a struggle to keep moving them in and out. Then Paige was pushing Azzi away, legs starting to shake from the overstimulation. Azzi knew how sensitive Paige got after she came, and she fully planned to use that to her advantage.

She pulled away from Paige for the moment, but only to get up and walk to the dresser where the purple strap sat. She could feel Paige’s eyes tracing her body. She still had leggings and a bra on, but Paige stared at her regardless of what she wore.

She slipped out of the clothes and grabbed the strap, stepping into the harness and adjusting the straps. She had never worn it before, but she had watched Paige put it on enough times that she knew how it worked. To her surprise, Paige didn’t even try to talk her out of it as Azzi crawled back on top of the blonde, pressing gentle kisses to her lips.

“You’re really okay with this?” Azzi asked. Paige nodded. “Words, baby. I know I won the bet, but I’m not gonna make you do this if you honestly don’t want to try it.”

“I know. I’m good. Maybe it’ll make you appreciate my skills more when you realize what it’s like,” Paige smirked. Azzi rolled her eyes.

“Do you ever stop being so cocky?”

“You love it,” Paige said and pulled Azzi back to her mouth, leaving sloppy kisses on her lips and across her face. Azzi let herself enjoy it for a few beats before she pulled away.

“You still wet enough?” She asked. Paige nodded, hands drifting to Azzi’s hips to help guide her between her legs.

“I’ll help you, baby, don’t worry,” Paige said. Azzi scoffed.

“You can help me by shutting up and actually accepting that you’re not in charge tonight.” Paige frowned. Azzi ignored her. She shifted into a better position, moving Paige’s legs out of the way. She inched forward until just the tip of the purple dildo was nestled between Paige’s folds. Paige let out a long breath.

“Hurry up,” she demanded, gripping Azzi’s hips and attempting to drag her closer. Instead, Azzi just dragged the tip up and down, spreading Paige’s wetness around teasingly. Paige released Azzi’s hips and let her arms flop back down onto the mattress in frustration.

“Ask me for what you want,” Azzi ordered. Paige’s eyes shot to Azzi’s.

“What?”

“Ask for what you want,” Azzi repeated, holding herself so still. She knew it was driving Paige crazy. For someone who had previously insisted she had no interest in getting fucked with a strap, she was trying awfully hard to get Azzi to slip inside of her. Azzi pulled away completely, leaving Paige empty. Paige whined.

“Seriously?” Azzi just stared at her girlfriend. Paige squeezed her eyes shut, face such a pretty shade of pink from her embarrassment. “Azzi, will you put it in?” She asked awkwardly. Azzi smiled.

“Say please.”

“Bro, I’m not saying please-” Azzi started to get up from the bed. She wasn’t actually going to leave, but she needed Paige to believe she would. It worked.

“Wait, baby, no. Please fuck me, okay? Is that what you wanted?” Azzi sighed. She’d just have to fuck the demands and controlling nature out of Paige. She settled herself back between Paige’s legs, one hand spreading her folds open. She was still soaked and her clit was now pink and puffy from the previous stimulation. Paige spread her legs a little wider in an attempt to coax Azzi into her.

“Tell me if I do something that hurts,” she said. As confident as Azzi was in her abilities to fuck Paige, this was new for both of them and she didn’t want to ruin any chance of Paige letting this happen again in the future. Paige nodded eagerly, hands returning to their places on Azzi’s hips. With that, Azzi nudged her way forward.

It was odd to see the strap sliding slowly into Paige, to see it splitting her open, to be the one causing that to happen, and to not physically feel anything from it. Azzi quickly gained an appreciation for how well Paige could fuck her without feeling her. She was too accustomed to being able to feel everything with her fingers or tongue.

“Fuck, Azzi, oh shit,” Paige mumbled. Azzi looked down at her girlfriend, whose eyes were squeezed shut. She was as deep as she could go without feeling like she would hurt Paige, so she just stayed there for a minute to let the blonde adjust. The stillness didn’t last long.

Paige’s eyes flew open the second she realized Azzi wasn’t moving and Azzi immediately knew demands were coming.

“Fucking move. I thought you wanted to fuck me, not just sit there,” she said, voice full of sass.

“Drop the attitude,” Azzi replied. She stayed still inside Paige.

“I don’t have an attitude. I’m telling you that I’m ready for you to give me more,” Paige argued. In response, Azzi pulled her hips back, dragging the strap out of Paige slowly. Then, she thrust back in, a little faster than she thought she should, but it forced a gasp out of Paige so it must have been alright.

“You’re being a brat,” she told Paige. Paige shook her head in disagreement, all while Azzi continued to thrust in and out of Paige, trying to find a rhythm.

“I’m just- fuck- helping you.”

“You’re not helping. I know what I’m doing. This feels good, right?” Azzi argued. She wanted Paige to either shut up or use her words for more productive things, like moaning and begging. She had never seen Paige anything less than dominant during sex, but she wanted to see if she could pull out a little bit (or a lot) of submission.

“Feels good, but Az, I can take more-” Azzi thrust harder than she had before. It punched a moan out of Paige.

“Like that?” Azzi asked sweetly. Her voice wasn’t as composed as she would have liked. The base of the dildo had settled in just the right place on her clit. It rubbed against her with every thrust and was making it harder to focus on what she and Paige were saying.

“Fuck, yes baby, just like that.” Azzi really wanted Paige to shut up, but she didn’t know how to make it happen. She kept thrusting, keeping her rhythm steady, and shifting the angle every once in a while in an attempt to find that spot inside Paige.

“Oh my god,” Azzi mumbled. The friction against her clit was starting to drive her crazy. Paige perked up, seeming to know exactly what had Azzi so wound up.

“You can feel it, can’t you? Against your clit?” Azzi thrust harder, speeding up. She brought one of her hands down to Paige’s clit as well, drawing little circles that did more teasing than anything. She just wanted to get Paige worked up enough that it was harder for her to speak. It took less time than she thought it would.

“Right there, so close. Don’t stop,” Paige groaned. It wasn’t begging, but it was a start. Azzi shifted slightly and Paige moaned immediately. She writhed on the bed, hips moving to meet Azzi’s thrusts. It didn’t take much longer, only a few more thrusts and circles of her fingers around Paige’s clit, and then Paige was moaning, her legs were shaking, and her cunt was visibly squeezing around the dildo. Azzi kept thrusting through Paige’s orgasm, helping her ride it out. Then, for the second time that night, Paige was pushing Azzi away, too sensitive to keep going. Azzi didn’t let Paige push her very far.

“We’re not done,” she told Paige. Paige’s eyes, which had drifted closed to bask in her climax, flicked open.

“I’ve already come twice tonight, Az.”

“I know. And I haven’t even come once,” Azzi replied. She saw a hint of guilt flicker across Paige’s face. She softened, bringing a hand up to cup Paige’s jaw. “I know I could come just from fucking you,” she said.

“You already fucked me. You just did that,” she said, tone full of confusion. In answer, Azzi slid back into Paige, not bothering to go slow. Paige cried out, legs trembling once again, too overstimulated to handle more.

“I’m going to fuck you again,” Azzi explained. Paige’s head pressed into a pillow, hair fanning out behind her. Her hands fisted in the sheets and her face screwed up in a confusing combination of discomfort and pleasure. Azzi had to hold back a grin. Paige always did enjoy just a little bit of pain in the bedroom.

“Fuck. Yeah, okay,” Paige agreed breathlessly. Azzi knew that if she brought a hand down to Paige’s clit, it probably would be too much for her right now. Instead, she threaded a hand through Paige’s hair, deceptively gentle for now. As soon as she saw Paige settle further into the bed, discomforting making way for more pleasure, Azzi gripped a section of Paige’s hair close to her scalp and tugged. She expected a groan or an exhalation of her name, but Paige let out a high-pitched whine that Azzi had never heard from her before. Just the sound sent a rush of warmth through her stomach and between her legs. She could feel herself dripping down her thighs at this point.

“You liked that, baby?” Azzi asked, punctuating the question with a harder thrust. Paige moaned, still in that high-pitched tone that was so unfamiliar. She nodded quickly, hair moving around the pillow. Azzi used her grip on Paige’s hair to tilt her girlfriend’s head up to look at her. “Words, Paige,” she ordered.

“Yes, yes, I liked it. Fuck me harder, please, Azzi, need it so bad,” Paige whined. She was panting, hips bucking up to meet every one of Azzi’s thrusts. It was mindless at this point. Both of their brains were on autopilot, just trying to get the maximum amount of pleasure out of every movement.

“Good girl. Because you asked so nicely, I’ll give you what you want,” Azzi praised. She slowed her thrusts slightly but each one was more forceful. Paige went crazy for it, moaning and trying to physically pull Azzi further into her.

Azzi wanted to hear more of those sounds, even though they were practically constant at this point, so she replaced her hand in Paige’s hair, closer to the top of her neck this time, and pulled. Paige let out something that could only be called a whimper. She had her eyes closed, her back arched, and her heels dug into Azzi’s back. Neither of them was quite sure when Paige moved her legs, they just knew it felt even better.

“So tight for me, so wet. Just sucking me up, aren’t you baby?” Azzi cooed. Paige couldn’t even reply. The only thing in her head was “please” and Azzi’s name, so that’s what she said. She moaned her girlfriend’s name over and over, followed by desperate pleas.

“You want it faster, baby, or do you want to come just like this? I bet you could, just from me fucking you slow like this. Look at you, so pathetic. Begging for me like a slut,” Azzi mused. Degradation wasn’t something they played with very often, but Paige seemed to like it. She bit her lip hard enough that the skin turned white. Azzi brought her hand down to the area and pulled Paige’s lip free from her teeth.

“Please, faster, wanna come. So close, I need it bad. God, Azzi, fuck. Please, please, please,” Paige cut herself off with another whine. Tears were starting to fall from her eyes, tracing shiny wet paths down her cheeks. Just that sight almost made Azzi come on the spot.

The reminder of just how close she was made Azzi focus a little bit more on her thrusts and less on every other part of the intoxicating situation. Paige’s noises were constant now, and no part of her body could lay still. Azzi, on the other hand, was now fully focused on getting herself off. Paige was already so fucked out she had no doubt she would come too.

“So close, Paige, doing so good for me baby.” The praise lit up on Paige’s face and seemed to inspire her because she started meeting Azzi’s thrusts with renewed vigor. The added force made Azzi moan, loud and drawn out. It only took a couple more thrusts, Azzi’s hips meeting Paige’s on every one, until Paige was letting out a high moan, clawing at Azzi’s torso and arms, and her pussy was clenching around the dildo.

“Coming, Azzi, coming, please please,” she begged. Azzi didn’t slow down in the slightest. The sight of Paige coming apart around the strap and the wrecked expression on her face combined with the now overwhelming friction on her clit was too much.

“Good girl, Paige, yes, oh fuck, I’m there too,” Azzi panted. More tears were streaking down Paige’s face, this time more from discomfort.

“Too much, Az, can’t take it, please, enough, too much!” She pleaded. Azzi could feel herself clenching around nothing as she came. She thrust into Paige a few more times, riding out her high. As soon as she was aware enough to notice the uncomfortable look on the blonde’s face, she slid the strap out of Paige quickly.

“Sorry, sorry, too much. I know, I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. As soon as she had gotten herself out of the harness and deposited it somewhere on the floor next to the bed, she crawled back to Paige. Azzi pressed soft kisses to Paige’s cheeks, brushing away the tears. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you’re too sensitive for that,” she apologized again. She felt Paige relax against her.

“S’okay. I’m good. Great. Fuck, that was crazy,” Paige mumbled into Azzi’s shoulder. Azzi giggled, rolling herself off of Paige and onto the bed next to her. “We gotta clean up, baby,” she reminded Paige. Paige groaned, cuddling herself into Azzi’s back.

“Later. I’m busy being the big spoon,” she bargained. Azzi smiled softly.

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

[supernovafics]

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

read part one here!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 6.8k words

summary: in which spending the night with steve only makes things more complicated 

warnings: explicit language, cheating (both reader and steve are cheating on their partners), implied smut, a lot of angst

author’s note: did this for the like ten ppl that asked for it<333 i listened to a lot (A LOT) of i, carrion (icarian) by hozier while writing this so that pretty much explains the super angsty vibes we have throughout most of this lol (angst with a happy ending though so no need to hate me! 🫶🏾)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The time couldn’t have been later than six o’clock. 

For the most part, it was still dark outside, but you could see the beginning bits of the sun rising through Steve’s thin curtains. 

And it was then that you realized that you were still in Steve’s bed when you definitely shouldn’t have been. A fresh wave of guilt began to settle in your stomach as you shifted around to face him. He was still asleep, lips slightly parted and hair a mess. 

You needed to leave— you actually should’ve left hours ago, but you’d fallen asleep way too easily in his bed; something that you’d actually never done before. And even now you still couldn’t find it in you to move, so you instead kept looking at him and pushed away the guilt that quietly gnawed at your stomach and told you that you should be running away right now. 

“You’re staring,” Steve mumbled after a few moments, eyes still shut and the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face. 

You quickly shook your head even though he obviously couldn’t see you. “Not true.” 

His eyes opened and you immediately closed yours, knowing that he caught you but you still pretended as if you were innocent. 

You felt him poke your side barely a second later and you laughed despite yourself. Your eyes opened and you didn’t hesitate to meet his gaze, but then seeing the small happy smile on his face reminded you of why you shouldn’t have been in his bed right then. 

You shifted so that your head was back against the pillow and you stared up at his ceiling, focusing on a random spot. “So, um, are you feeling okay after last night?”

You decided against specifying exactly what happened last night to save you from pointing out the elephant in the room— him being drunk and showing up to your house and a conversation that was honest but also not at all somehow leading here. 

“Yeah, just a headache, but not really.”

You promptly decided to use that as an excuse to get out of his bed. “I’ll go grab something for you. Is the aspirin still in the same spot in your bathroom?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do that.”

You shook your head as you pulled the blanket off and got up. “No, it’s fine.”

You stepped through the door that connected to his bathroom. You avoided looking at yourself in the mirror, for reasons that you couldn’t fully decipher, and simply rummaged through the drawer underneath his sink for a quick second. 

Steve was still in the same position in his bed when you returned to his room, except now he was looking at you with a confused look in his eyes. 

He didn’t say anything or call you out on your current antics though as you tossed over the bottle of aspirin to him, and then you realized something. 

“Oh, you need water too. I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t—”

You waved him off before he could finish his statement and slipped out of his room, not giving him a chance to say anything else. 

It didn’t take long, you knew his house fairly well, and doing the mundane task of finding a glass and filling it with some water was enough to help clear your mind and make you think about everything logically. You realized just how much of a mistake last night was, but the only good thing was that this would be easy to recover from. You two could still go your separate ways and let your different lives completely go back to how they were before you two started sneaking around with each other. 

When you got back to Steve’s room, he was sitting up and leaning back against his headboard. He pushed a hand through his hair, which actually did very little to tame its messiness. 

“Here you go,” You said as you handed over the glass. 

He smiled at you. “Thanks.”

You simply nodded in response at first and then you were speaking. “Yeah, no problem.”

You lingered awkwardly by his bed because you didn’t want to get back in, but you felt as if there was a lot more you should say before you left. “Hey, um, can we agree to actually not do this anymore? I still stand by everything I said in the bathroom yesterday.”

His confused look returned. “We didn’t do anything last night.”

“Yeah, and I think that’s somehow worse,” You told him as you turned away because it became too hard to hold his gaze right then. You grabbed your hoodie off the back of his door and slipped it on. “Let’s just let things go back to normal, okay? You with Nancy and me with Jamie.”

It didn’t necessarily feel right saying the words, but they felt needed. You had to say them. You had to pretend that everything was fine, or that it at least had the potential to be that way. 

“I broke up with Nancy last night.”

For a second, all you could do was simply look at him as the words processed in your brain because at first you were convinced that you heard him wrong. But once they did process, you were immediately blurting out, “What? When?”

“Before I got drunk and saw you,” He answered, voice way too soft to match this huge news that he was dropping on you. 

You shook your head and sighed as you realized that everything wasn’t going to easily go back to normal and be fine like you wanted it to be. “God, Steve, I really wish you would’ve told me that last night.”

“Would it have changed anything? Is it changing anything now?”

“I wouldn’t have let myself come here,” You answered immediately. “If you had told me this when you were standing on my front lawn, I would’ve told you to go and try to get back with her.”

There was a lot more that you could’ve said— that you would’ve seen the conversation you two had last night right here in his bedroom entirely different if you’d known, and you wouldn’t have let yourself fall asleep in his arms if you knew that there wasn’t any hope for things to go back to normal because he no longer had a “normal” to go back to. And you wouldn’t let yourself be here with him in this moment either. 

“Is it changing anything now?” Steve asked again when he noticed that you hadn’t answered that question. 

“No... No, it’s not,” You said after the briefest moment of hesitation and then turned away from him again. “I’m gonna go. You should try to fix things with her.”

“Why do you want me to be with her so bad?” You could hear him ask as you closed his bedroom door behind you. 

Because then I’d feel a little less terrible about all of this. You wanted to practically scream that at him. You wanted him to understand that if things could just go back to how they were then you’d feel okay about how shitty of a person you’d been for the past month and a half. At least, that was the hope. 

However, you didn’t tell him any of that. 

“It’s just, it’s the right thing to do, Steve,” You responded loud enough for him to hear you through the shut door. 

You headed down the stairs, not listening to see if Steve said anything else, and you were in the middle of putting on your shoes when you heard his door open again. You tied your sneakers quickly and terribly because you hoped that you’d be able to slip out before Steve made it down the stairs. 

Perhaps you two needed to have a better conversation that would actually come to some sort of proper conclusion, but you couldn’t do that right then. And then you quickly figured that if you kept pushing him away, maybe he’d get the hint and push you away too, or simply let go. 

You were only able to pull open the front door before you abruptly stopped your fast movements.  

Because Nancy was standing in front of you, finger seconds away from ringing the doorbell. Her eyes met yours and you suddenly wished for the ground to swallow you whole. 

She looked like a girl that had just been broken up with, eyes puffy and red like she’d been crying all night, and you knew that was entirely your fault. An immediate “I’m so sorry” was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say that, not right then. She had the saddest look on her face that was quickly replaced with surprise and confusion when she saw you standing where you were.

“Oh, oh, hey. I was, um… I was just leaving,” You said to her, trying to sound as normal as possible but this was perhaps the most not normal situation ever.

Her eyes immediately narrowed at you. “Oh my god, I knew it.” 

You wondered what she meant. Did she mean that she knew that Steve was cheating, or she knew that he was cheating with you?

You obviously didn’t ask her to clarify, though. Instead, you slipped past her and started walking away. The last thing you heard was Steve saying, “Nance, what are you doing here?” and her responding with some angry words that you felt as if you shouldn’t have heard.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

After the moment you and Steve had on New Year’s— an abrupt kiss on a swing set that led to a lot more kissing in his car—  a sort of routine quickly formed. It became a cycle of ending up in his car or your car or his house, and it was exactly three weeks after New Year’s when he finally saw the inside of yours. 

It was a rare one-off situation where your parents were gone for the weekend and you knew that you weren’t supposed to have anyone over; not even Jamie, even though they’d known him for practically forever. 

You had never had the urge to break the rule before and Jamie wanted to keep a good relationship with your parents and was also too nice to suggest breaking it either, so you initially thought that your nights would be quiet. 

Except you now had Steve in your life. And he didn’t mind breaking the rule of your parents who he hadn’t even met, so he came over to your house around ten o’clock. 

You were immediately trying to pull him in for a kiss when you closed the front door behind him, but he pulled back with a teasing smile.

“Can I at least get a tour before you try to seduce me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him but still nodded at his request. “Of course, I’m so sorry, where are my manners?”

You grabbed his hand before you could think too much about it, and quickly led him through your house and pointed out everything. “Kitchen, small dining room, living room, guest room and bathroom down the hall. And that’s pretty much it for down here. Nothing as extravagant as your house.” 

“I like it.”

“Don’t get too attached because this is the only time that this will happen here.” 

You didn’t outwardly say the exact reason why that was probably the case— it would never make sense for him to come over any other time; it would either be too risky with your parents right down the hall or during a time when Jamie was over. But, Steve understood all of what was left unspoken.

“Got it,” He said and then he smiled at you. “Can I see upstairs?”

You nodded, leading the way once again. “My parents' room is down that way, and I’m right here.”

The door was already open so you let him walk in first. There wasn’t too much you found embarrassing about your bedroom, not the full shelf of books or the few posters that hung on the wall above your desk. The only thing that made your cheeks warm in embarrassment was the wallpaper on your walls that you had since you were a kid and had hoped to change sooner rather than later, but you had just never gotten around to it.  

Steve looked at you after a moment. “Cute room.”

“One day those pink unicorns will no longer be on the wall.”

“I like them. They add character.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even as you laughed at his words. “Shut up.”

The teasing smirk on his face didn’t manage to annoy you as he stepped closer to you and the distance between you two became nonexistent. He leaned in and kissed you then because that was what was supposed to happen and it probably should’ve happened sooner; what you two were doing wasn’t meant to be anything more or less than physical. 

Your freshly made bed became a mess in a matter of moments and clothes were quickly scattered on the floor; his jeans and t-shirt gone and your own tank top and shorts tossed somewhere to the side too.

It was fairly early for a Friday night, and you kind of wondered how Steve could even be here right now, but neither of you ever asked where each other’s person was. It was just quietly understood that when you two were together it meant that some excuse had been made or some lie had been told so that this could happen. 

A part of you knew that you’d eventually feel bad about all of this, but it had only been three weeks and you were able to forget about how bad you should’ve been feeling when you and Steve were together like this; not an ounce of space between your bodies and limbs tangled beneath bedsheets. Weirdly enough, it just felt too right even though it was objectively wrong. 

Soft kisses trailed along your neck and collarbone and then proceeded to move lower and lower. All you could do was sigh in contentment and your eyes slipped shut as you let Steve turn your mind to mush for the time being. 

“You’ve read all of these?” Steve asked you later; when you were heading back into your bedroom after using the bathroom and you saw him standing next to your bookshelf. 

He was shirtless with only his jeans hanging low on his hips, which made sense since you were wearing his t-shirt right then; it had been the closest thing to you afterward. Now, though, you pulled it off and tossed it over to him and then went to grab your own shirt. 

“Yeah,” You simply answered his question as you searched around your room for your underwear and slipped it on once you spotted it partially under your bed. 

Steve pulled one of the books off of the shelf, you couldn’t see what the title said even as you moved a little closer to him. “This is the one that we had to read for that English project last year.” 

You nodded. “Oh, yeah, I liked it a lot, actually.”

“I barely remember anything that happened in it.” 

“That’s not surprising and it’s probably the reason why we got a B+ on that project.”

Steve placed the book on the shelf and then turned around to face you. “Hey, a B+ is great.”

“Yeah, for you, but for a person that actually really likes English, not so much,” You told him and then smiled to show that, for the most part, you were joking. 

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry for holding you back on that project.”

“Apology accepted,” You said. “I also really don’t even need an apology because I’ve had much worse partners than you on things before.”

“Okay, in that case, I feel honored that I haven’t been the worst person you’ve ever had to work with.”

You laughed a little. “And I hope I was the best person you’ve ever had to work with.”

Steve nodded. “Of course, you definitely were.”

You were pretty sure he was joking— even though he didn’t entirely sound like it— so you continued playing along. “I feel honored.”

He stepped closer to you and for a second you thought that he was going to kiss you again, and although that never happened after, you didn’t think that you would’ve reminded him of that or pushed him away. He didn’t kiss you, though; he stopped before he got that close to you and started heading toward your open bedroom door instead. 

“I should probably go,” He said, and you nodded in agreement. 

He could’ve easily stayed the night if either of you wanted that to happen. But, he didn’t ask and you didn’t offer. It would’ve been wrong to, you both could silently agree on that. 

You were kind of starting to become okay with things becoming more and more wrong, though. 

This was meant to be mindless and solely physical, but it was becoming a sort of routine, second nature in a way, to talk about random nonsense or joke around with each other. 

However, staying the night felt like a line you two shouldn’t cross; it felt different than just talking for a while after. It felt a thousand times more intimate and serious and like it went several steps past just having sex or being two people who talked about way too much with each other sometimes. 

“I’ll see you later,” Steve said before he opened your front door. 

“Yeah,” You nodded. “Goodnight.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Barely a month later, and the line had been crossed.

The unspoken rule was broken and there wasn’t even any point to spiral out about it because that somehow wasn’t the worst thing that happened. 

Everything was ruined, or it at least soon would be because you couldn’t imagine Nancy sitting on this information and not telling anyone. She was rightfully mad and maybe you deserved whatever would happen once all of this spread around the school. 

Your walk home from Steve’s house was quick and the sun was completely up by the time you made it through your front door, but it was still early enough that your parents were still asleep and wouldn’t know that you’d been gone for the entire night. 

A part of you wanted to simply just go to sleep when you stepped back into your bedroom, sleep through the entire day, and just forget about everything. But then there was the other part of you that couldn’t not think about everything; the inevitable explosion that was coming sooner rather than later, and it didn’t even feel entirely dramatic to view it that way. 

Ultimately, you decided to take a shower because it felt like the only thing that would help you feel a little better. It ended up being the longest shower you’d had in a while and it actually didn’t do much to make you feel any differently. There was still the guilt that had made a home in your stomach when you woke up and it was now coupled with a lot of dread. 

You left for school at the time you were supposed to leave, saying a quick goodbye to your parents before stepping out of the door, but you turned left instead of right at the end of your block and ended up at a diner. You stayed there for probably way too long, sipping coffee instead of anything else because you couldn’t stomach the thought of having actual food right then. 

You thought about how you could fix things, and if there was even any hope to fix anything, and also what exactly was there to fix. You didn’t want to hurt Jamie, but you were certain that you did, and what could you even say to him now that would magically “fix” what you’d done? 

That you loved him and still wanted to be with him? That everything that happened with Steve was a stupid mistake and you regretted it entirely? 

You had lied a lot over the past month and a half and you didn’t want to just continue piling onto it. But, then the thought of being a thousand percent honest felt way too scary. 

And when thinking about how fucked your life was became too much, you took the newspaper that a random older man offered you and sipped more coffee, and reread the same articles over and over again. 

You eventually showed up to school halfway through lunch. Missing the entire day felt a bit too cowardly and you also remembered that you had to take a Chemistry quiz at the end of the day. However, you didn’t immediately step out of your car once you were parked in the school parking lot. Instead, you leaned your head back against the headrest and let out a sigh, eyes slipping shut in the process as you mentally prepared yourself for whatever you'd have to face inside those walls. 

An abrupt quick knock against your window scared you and made you open your eyes. It was Jamie standing at your passenger side window and you could feel your heart speed up in your chest, and it wasn’t because you’d just been startled by him. 

But, he didn’t look mad at you, just confused, and that felt like a good sign; maybe that meant that the “inevitable” actually hadn’t happened yet. 

You gave him a small wave and then he opened the door and proceeded to get in your car. 

“Where’ve you been?”

“I wasn’t really feeling good this morning, but then I remembered my Chem quiz last period and I don’t wanna miss that.”

He nodded. “Oh, okay.”

He wasn’t looking at you— you could tell that he was purposely avoiding eye contact with you, actually— and it was that that made you realize that he knew. 

“I’m so sorry,” You blurted out. 

“Is it true?”

“I’m so sorry.”

Finally, his eyes met yours and the hurt look on his face made you want to break his gaze, but it would’ve been too shitty to look away because you suddenly felt bad. “I don’t get it... Steve Harrington? Really? Do you wanna be with him now?”

For a second, you didn’t say anything. You couldn’t; no words would form on your lips. And it was then that you realized that you weren’t ready to be honest with this guy sitting next to you who you’d known since you were twelve and considered your best friend since then too. It shouldn’t have felt so fucking hard, but it did, and the worst part of it was that you knew that you had to tell him the truth anyway. 

“Honestly, Steve has nothing to do with how I feel about us and you,” You ultimately said, realizing that you weren’t completely answering Jamie’s question, but he didn’t call you out on it. “I’d been feeling… off about things for a while, but I wanted to pretend like I wasn’t. I wanted to pretend that everything was fine and normal between you and me, so I pushed those “off” feelings away and buried them down, and acted as if they didn’t exist. I lied a lot to myself because I was scared that I’d mess everything up. And then I saw Steve on New Year’s and we did something stupid and shitty that didn’t feel that way at the time, and that’s when I started lying to you. And all of the lying and what me and him were doing never felt completely terrible and wrong until yesterday. But, by the time I actually wanted to do the right thing and try to be a good person, it was too late. And maybe that’s actually a good thing because I would’ve just kept lying to myself and to you too if things hadn’t blown up this way.”

You were rambling and probably not making any sense right then. The thought of ruining absolutely everything still weighed so heavily on you, even though the damage was already pretty much done. There was no recovering from this and there was no “fixing” things, you realized now. However, you were still explaining and explaining and hoping that maybe things could somehow be okay.  

A confused look crossed Jamie’s face. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you were feeling about us before?”

“Because I’m a coward and I wanted to avoid all of this,” You admitted. “And also because it was just so confusing. I love you, you’re my best friend, so it didn’t make sense to me why I was no longer in love with you. And the thought of having any sort of conversation about this scared the shit out of me because I don’t wanna lose you completely.”

Things became quiet for a second and Jamie looked away from you, staring straight ahead at the parking lot instead. 

After a moment, he started speaking again. “Remember back in seventh grade, and I’m pretty sure most of eighth grade too, you used to make me turn around or close my eyes whenever you wanted to tell me some sort of secret?”

The abrupt subject change surprised you, but you nodded anyway. “Yeah, I remember that.”

You weren’t ever entirely sure why you would do that so much. Jamie was the first person you’d ever gotten super close to and you felt like you could tell any and all of your secrets to him, but the act of doing so scared you, so you’d make him look away whenever you did. He thought it was a little weird at first, but he came around to the antic after the first few times. 

“You eventually stopped doing that and you started telling me everything right to my face,” He continued and you understood where he was going then. “I thought that meant that you felt like you could tell me anything, especially all of the shitty stuff.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” You said, and it was a bad excuse, but it was also honest. “And I know that I just ended up hurting you, anyway. Probably a thousand times worse than if I just told you the truth from the beginning.”

He looked at you again. “So, what’s the truth?”

You wanted to break his gaze so badly, but you forced yourself not to. “I love you, I really do, but I want things to go back to how they used to be with us. I wanna just be friends. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” He said softly, and he didn’t sound completely hurt, but you still felt terrible. 

“I’m sorry,” You told him again because it felt like the only thing to say right then. 

He lightly shook his head at you, like he didn’t want you to keep saying it. “At least I don’t have to be scared of your dad anymore.”

His joke made you smile and inwardly sigh in relief; maybe things actually could somehow be okay. 

“There’s literally never been any reason to be scared of him. He likes you more than me. Who else can he talk about basketball with?”

Jamie cracked a small smile at that and a comfortable silence lingered for a bit as you took a look at the time displayed across the dashboard. There were only about fifteen minutes left of lunch and it probably would’ve been a good use of your time to focus on studying for your quiz later, but you didn’t bring it up right then and you didn’t move to grab your bookbag from the backseat. This moment actually felt okay and you didn’t want to be the one to break it.

“I’m just realizing that you didn’t answer my question from before,” Jamie eventually said. 

You glanced at him, confused. “What question?”

“Do you want to be with him? With Steve?”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that, but you were opening your mouth to stutter out something anyway because staying silent felt like it would’ve been an answer in itself. 

Before you could manage to say anything, though, Jamie continued. “Actually, no wait, never mind, I don’t think I wanna know the answer.”

He still didn’t sound entirely mad, but another soft-spoken “I’m sorry” was on the tip of your tongue. However, he was opening the door and stepping out of your car before it could fall from your lips. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

This time when the rocks began hitting your window in the middle of the night, they were expected. 

You had actually called Steve asking him to come over and he didn’t say no. There was the smallest part of you that thought that maybe he would. 

You pushed your window open and looked down at him standing on your front lawn. “Come up.”

A confused look crossed his face. “You’re not coming down?”

You shook your head. “No, come up.” 

It was risky, your parents were right down the hall and this was pretty different from you sneaking out, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care. 

The way the roof was angled made it easy for Steve to pull himself up and maneuver his way toward your bedroom window. Steve wasn’t completely graceful doing it, but he tried to be, which made it funnier, but you didn’t laugh and instead only smiled at him once he was through the window and standing in front of you. 

“Did that look cooler than it felt?”

That time you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “No, sorry.”

He pushed a hand through his hair and gave you the smallest smile. “A lie would’ve been appreciated.”

“Oh, what I meant to say was that was actually the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” You told him and he laughed. 

“Thank you,” He said and then slipped off his jacket and laid it on the back of your desk chair, which left him in just his white t-shirt. “I didn’t see you around school today.”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t really want to go today,” You said with a shrug that you hoped feigned the proper amount of nonchalance. Your answer was only half of the truth— you actually didn’t want to go, but you also couldn’t seem to force yourself to step out of your car after your conversation with Jamie, it felt too hard to, so you instead ended up back at the diner for another handful of hours. 

You sat on the floor at the foot of your bed now, leaning back against it, and Steve followed suit, leaving only a little bit of space between you two. 

You turned your head to look at him. “How bad is everything?”

“Not terrible,” He answered after the briefest moment of hesitation and you could tell that he was attempting to downplay it all for your sake. “It’ll probably blow over by Monday.”

You weren’t sure that was possible, given just how popular Steve was, but you nodded anyway and your eyes fell to your hands in your lap because it was easier than doing anything else. 

Maybe he saw through the half-hearted nod because then he was whispering to you. “It’ll be okay.”

You didn’t say anything in response to those quiet words, but they did manage to soften something inside of you. You pushed away the thought of school and what Monday would look like for you; what everyone probably now thought about you and the shit people would say because of it. 

You looked at Steve again and he gave you a small hopeful-looking smile that you suddenly felt like you didn’t deserve. 

“I feel like I was way too mean to you this morning and I’m really sorry about that,” You abruptly told him. 

Steve shook his head at your words. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

His hand found one of yours then, intertwining them. It felt like way too tender and sweet of an action, something that had never been done between you two, but it also felt entirely right. 

“Did you ever think about why it was so easy for us to do it? To lie and cheat?” You asked him, not holding eye contact and instead focusing on the floor. 

You knew your own answer to the question, but you wondered what his was because he never seemed entirely unhappy with Nancy, and since you two rarely ever talked about your respective relationships, you felt like you knew nothing about where his head had been. 

“Honestly, I didn’t think about it.”

“Why did you do it?” You asked. “Why’d you want to kiss me that night?”

There was no pause or hesitation before he answered. “Because it was you.”

That was probably the cheesiest thing you’d ever heard, so you immediately nudged his shoulder and rolled your eyes. “Stop it. Be serious.”

“I am serious,” His hand gave yours a light squeeze, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You remember the first time we met up after school to work on that English project?”

You did remember it, but you only nodded because you really wanted to hear what he had to say about it. 

“We hung out for like two hours that day. Worked on the project for a bit and then just talked about random stuff for most of the time, and it was all just so easy for some reason; so damn easy to talk to you. I looked forward to every day that we had to work on the project after that. And then I think it was one of the last few days of us doing it that you randomly mentioned that you had a boyfriend and I realized that I had zero shot with you.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you had expected Steve to say, but you knew that it wasn’t that. He was right that the conversations you two had then had been pretty effortless and nice, but hearing that he liked you all the way back then felt like something that you immediately wanted to shake your head at and deny. There hadn’t been any moments during those two weeks that gave you any indication that he liked you in that way. Yes, he was flirty, and he wasn’t even dating Nancy yet so it could’ve been plausible that he really was flirting with you, but you figured that was just his personality; everyone knew just how damn charming he was. 

“And then all those months later I saw you in that backyard. And things were going fine with me and Nancy, but I suddenly really wanted to talk to you. Because you were alone, and I thought that meant that you and Jamie were over because why else would you be alone on New Year’s? But, no he was still in the picture, but you didn’t tell me to fuck off because of him, so I didn’t.”

Things got quiet for a second and before you could really even think about how to respond to that, Steve was speaking again. “Why’d you let me kiss you that night?”

“I didn’t think about it too much,” You immediately answered him, suddenly finding it so easy to be honest. “Deep down, I knew it was a bad idea, but that wasn’t enough to make me wanna stop it.”

You shifted closer to him, closing the last bit of distance between you two and leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“It was the kind of bad idea that felt like a good one once it was happening if that makes sense,” You continued. “It felt nice and good and really… Right. Even though it shouldn’t have.” 

“Yeah, it always felt right,” Steve agreed, voice soft. “It still does.” 

A part of you couldn’t help but think that even though this moment felt right too, maybe it also shouldn’t have felt that way. But, everything else— what made this all so wrong in the first place— was already ruined and over, so perhaps it was okay to finally lean into this rightness since you wouldn’t end up feeling bad or guilty about it in the long run.  

You pulled your hand away from Steve’s and then shifted so that you were in his lap, legs on either side of him and knees pushing into the carpet below you.

Your eyes met his soft brown ones that looked unsure of what you were about to do or say next. 

“I really like you.”

It was the first time you were admitting it out loud and as the words fell from your lips and settled in the quiet air of your bedroom, you realized just how long you’d been aching to finally say them to him. 

The smile that spread across Steve’s face practically melted your insides. “I really like you too.”

Your hands came up to settle on his shoulders as you nodded and smiled back at him. “Cool, nice to know that we both like each other.”

“Really like each other,” He corrected you and then leaned in to press the quickest kiss against your cheek, which made you laugh a little. 

“Oh, sorry, you’re right,” You said and then it was your turn to lean in. You brushed your nose against his and your eyes slipped shut as you whispered your next words against his lips. “Really like each other.”

You started pulling back but Steve’s mouth chased yours, putting an abrupt end to your teasing. You gave in easily and leaned into him, returning his eagerness and inwardly sighing in contentment at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your pajama shorts rode up as you shifted in his lap and one of Steve’s hands moved to rest on the sides of your thighs to keep you steady. 

You wouldn’t mind kissing him forever. It was a thought that hit you a lot in moments like this— as mouths explored and hands roamed— and this was the first time that that thought didn’t scare or worry you because it wouldn’t actually complicate things like it would have before.

You pulled away from his mouth after a moment and your lips found his neck instead. He let out a low hum the second you grazed your tongue over a particularly sensitive spot on his skin; you had discovered it the second time you two made out in his car and you adored the soft sound he made when you found it. 

“You still have unicorns on the wall,” Steve abruptly said and the words felt so random that you stopped your movements. 

You let out a laugh against his neck. “Shut up. Why are you bringing that up right now?”

“Sorry, I had to turn down the mood somehow,” He said and you pulled back to look at him. “Since your parents are right down the hall.”

“Well, I guess that just means that you have to be really quiet for once.” 

He let out a sound that resembled both a scoff and an amused laugh. “Me?” 

The tiniest hint of a smirk played on your lips as you nodded, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, you get really loud, Harrington.”

“I think we have very different memories of what this last month has been like,” He said and then he was tilting his head up and finding your lips again before you could potentially say anything in response to him.  

His hands moved from your thighs to your hips and he pulled you down against him. There were some layers separating you two— your thin shorts and the sweatpants Steve had on— but it was still the perfect amount of friction. You were brushing roughly against the tent in his sweatpants, which made you inadvertently moan into the kiss. 

“See?” Steve mumbled against your lips. “You’re the loud one.” 

You pulled back a little, it was too hard not to laugh, even as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. “That was very evil.” 

“I’m sorry,” He said, but smiled at you. “Come on, let’s go to my car. Maybe head to the lake? You can be as loud as you want there.”

You nodded at his teasing suggestion, but still slotted your lips against his once more, not wanting to move out of this position just yet. Steve didn’t seem to mind at all and he pulled you closer, as close as you two had been so many times before.

You could recognize that this was a weird set of circumstances and the smallest part of you was trying to figure out how much of it you’d end up looking back on and regretting— the lies and secrets that started all of this and ended up hurting people just like you knew it would. But, in this moment, you deliberately didn’t think about that. Instead, you focused on Steve and how glad you were that he was here and how happy you were to have him in your life. 

You whispered those sentimental words to him moments after they hit you; labeling them as cheesy and he immediately shook his head and told you that they weren’t. 

“I’m happy too,” He whispered back and one of his hands came up to find your cheek. The way he stroked your skin so tenderly made you suddenly turn shy under his gaze, but that didn’t make you want to look away from him. “That I’m here with you. And that you want me to be.”

“I think I’ll always want you to be,” You said, voice still soft and quiet, and it didn’t hit you how true those words were until they were out in the open. Maybe they were a bit blindly optimistic, but that didn’t change how much you meant them right then.

Steve kissed you again and you two stayed like that for a little longer before you moved out of his lap and the two of you finally headed to his car.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

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