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buck-star · 8 months ago

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Mission — Heat | Steve Rogers

// Pairing // Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Female!Reader

// Summary // Your best friend and you are on a mission but when he finds out about your heat he doesn’t let you do the mission — but one night in one bed is still enough to confess the real feelings.

// Wordcount // 6.714 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, best friends to lovers, alpha/beta/omega, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Reader, Heat, true mates, smut, fingering (fem!receiving), teasing, lots of kisses, masturbation (male!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, squirting, little bit of degradation and begging, dirty talk, praises, fluff

// Request // Hi sweetie and happy 2K, you deserve them!! So I noticed you're doing that fun activist with prompts. I was thinking maybe: true mates who are childhood best friends? (A/B/O) It could be Steve Rogers ( I just imagine him a lot like an alpha😭) ? smut and a bit of fluff? Maybe they were supposed to go in a mission but she's starting her heat ( I think it's written like this?) so she stays behind and he offers to stay with her? they end up sleeping together and him taking care of her? ❤️ Sending you so much love!! @rogersbarber

// Authors Note // Hey, thank you for the request and for the nice words. It wasn’t supposed to be such a long oneshot but it turned out longer than expected. Hope you like it. Biggest thank you goes to my girl @bucks-babe for proofreading for me. You’re amazing and make my work so much better.

// Events // MCU Kink Bingo | O1 | Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics: true mates | @mcukinkbingo || Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row Three-Two | Friends to lovers | @fandom-free-bingo || FluffySteveFest | July 1: Affection | Kisses, Aftercare | @fluffystevefest

// Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist | 2000 Follower Celebration //

Being on a mission with your best friend was always your favorite kind of mission so you thought it would be like that this time too. Even though you got your heat just before you were getting ready for the mission — but your best friend knows it, he is used to it.

Steve Rogers, unmated Alpha and your best friend since childhood, the two of you grew up together, he always defended you in school, in front of other Alphas and he still does it when he notices that you don’t do it for yourself.

Even though he defends you sometimes still, he loves your attitude, your confidence and with every year the two of you grew older, things changed between the two of you — inside of him. He wouldn’t tell you, at least not yet. Steve loves the friendship the two of you have and he doesn't want to ruin it with his alpha instincts during your heats.

So little does he know that you went on the mission with him while getting into your heat. You smelled different but he was too focused on studying the file to care about your changing scent, maybe it was just another perfume you use?

“Have you read them? Sounds like they are in the hall and we ha—“ Steve says, sitting in a chair opposite you. The room has next to two chairs and a small table also a double bed — you already tested with a jump on it.

You’re currently in a hotel, waiting for the time you have the ‘meeting’ with the weapon dealer. Steve’s arms resting on his thick thighs and you looked at him up and down, while he was focused on the file. But now his blue eyes are piercing into yours, he tilts his head to the side and clears his throat.

“What are you doing there?” He asks, looking at your small construction on the bed. His shirts are placed around you on the mattress, you’re sitting with your back against the headboard and you’re focused on replacing a few of his shirts to make it more comfortable, while you listen to your best friend.

“N—Nothing, just wanted to see what you brought with you,” you say, smiling softly. Steve nods, not really believing what you try to convince him of.

“And you’re doing this by placing all my shirts around you?” His voice is soft but you can still hear a more dominant tone. You whimper quietly, trying to push all your thoughts away, you can’t let the omega inside of you get the control just yet. Not on a mission, not when you’re supposed to sleep in a bed with Steve.

“Yes? That’s a problem?” You ask, trying to sound as sweet as you can. Steve inhales deeply, and then it clicks in his mind, your scent isn’t different because of another perfume — oke at least not only because of that — it’s because you’re in heat and don’t want him to know it.

“Omega,” he growls, earring a whimper from you, knowing that he is right. “Fuck— why didn’t you tell me? Even using another perfume so I won’t smell it immediately? You can’t come on a mission with me, when— Oh fuck!”

“Language, Steve! Don’t use those words and I can! See, I'm here with you, on a mission,” you say, trying to play cool, while he gets up from the chair and paces through the room. Steve runs his hands through his hair, he loves you, he cares about you and that’s why you shouldn’t go on a mission during your heat — and especially not be in the same room — the same bed as the Alpha.

“I’m sorry, princess. But we will call Tony and get you home and I will do the mission alone or with another agent,” Steve says, frustration grows inside of him when he realizes that it’s evening and that you will have to stay the night in the same bed he does. “Or we let Sam and Bucky do that.”

“Stevie, I can do the mission with you, don’t make a big deal out of it please. It’s just my heat, oke?” You try, earning a glare that causes you to flinch and shut your mouth immediately.

“Not a big deal, huh? Do you know that most of the people we are going to meet there are Alphas? They will smell you, and when we do a mistake they will fucking get you and who knows what they are going to do then. With you — sweet Omega, they deal with weapons. Do you think they don’t have their omegas on a leash like a little pet?”

You sigh, maybe Steve is wrong but you two are a good team so they won’t get you and have you as their own personal toy, will they?

“Gonna call Tony now,” he huffs, reaching for his phone before he taps on it a few times before Tony picks up the call. You don’t really listen to the conversation, too frustrated that Steve doesn’t want to do the mission with you.

You grasp one after the other shirts of his, throwing it away. When you can’t go on a mission to him, you don’t want to be close to him. And as much as you crave your little nest with his shirts, you’re too mad to care about you. Luckily, your heat just started so you don’t have too bad cramps and when you get some you can still help yourself, you don’t need Steve or his stupid shirts — really good smelling shirts.

“What are you doing there, princess? First you build your nest with my shirts and now you throw them away, can you at least put them back into the bag?” Steve asks after hanging up and looking at you.

It only needs one look at you and he knows that you’re frustrated, that you’re going to be bratty because you’re always like that when Steve denies you. Sometimes you hate him, he is your best friend and you love him but those moments let you think if it could be a love-hate thing or something. Even though you know he is your true mate but since you’re both best friends you never wanted to risk your friendship for that, especially not because you never felt like you need a relationship just yet.

“Pick them up, ‘mega,” he growls, walking closer to the bed where you’re still sitting. You shake your head, pulling your legs against your chest and causing him to sigh. “That’s childish, you threw my clothes on the ground, now pick them up and bit them back into my bag.”

“Make me, Alpha,” you smirk when his eyes darken. Steve being feral is something you like to see, especially when his Alpha is more present, you have never seen his real Alpha side but the bits he lets slip are something you could get used to.

“Not gonna repeat myself. You’re playing with fire. Coming here in your heat, wanting to sleep in a bed with me—“

“You can sleep on the floor if you prefer that,” you shrug. Steve’s suddenly really close to you, his hand snapping forward and grasping your chin harshly. He tilts your head back, causing you to whine slightly.

“I wasn’t finished. You come here with me for the mission, you are going to sleep in a bed with me — wouldn’t I be used to it by now I would have fucked you into the mattress already and claimed you,” he groans, the thought making his dick twitch in his tight pants and he feels his boxer briefs soaking by his pre-cum.

“Calm down, you called Tony so it’s fine now? But I wouldn’t mind you claiming me, could try it, see if I would be such a sweet little omega and lie there for you,” you say, giggling softly while Steve’s features harden and his jaw clenches.

He doesn’t say anything, just letting go of your jaw and inhaling deeply. Steve turns away from you, making his way to the room into the bathroom. When the door closes a small pout forms on your lips, you never thought being close to someone would affect you like that but your best friend's short touch felt just so good. His warmth and the soft tingle he causes on your skin, you’re craving more but maybe it’s just because of your heat and nothing more.

For a moment you think about sneaking out of the room, getting some food or just for a walk. Or maybe you check out the location for the deal the next day and you will get up early to be there and help Sam and Bucky?

You decide against it, knowing that a whole lot of Alphas would smell you and no matter how confident you are, you don’t want one of them to jump on you. So you’re leaning back, your back resting against the headboard of the bed. You grasp your book, but since you destroyed your nest you feel uncomfortable.

Meanwhile Steve couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to get out of the situation otherwise he didn’t know if he could have controlled himself any longer to not just ruin you for every other Alpha.

Your smell is so intoxicating, surrounding him like air. He had seen you in your heat so often but something changed, inside of him and between the two of you.

The warm water runs down his body, relaxing his tensed muscles but his cock is still rock-hard and there is only his hand as solution. Steve brings one of his hands to his shaft, immediately groaning quietly when he wraps his fingers around his thickness.

How would it feel if those fingers would be yours? Would your small hand actually fit around his length?

For a moment he tries to bring his thoughts to one of the porns he is watching when he jerks off but his mind doesn’t want to do it like Steve wants and he always has the picture of you in front of his eyes.

Steve slowly moves his hand up and down his shaft, the tip is red and leaking. He runs his thumb over the slit, groaning about the sensation. His hips jerk forward, meeting the movements of his hand. Steve throws his head back, fucking his fist hard and fast while he tries to muffle his groans as much as possible while biting his lip.

He wants — he needs to feel your fingers around his shaft. Or your mouth, your pussy. So warm and tight and all wet for him. Steve knows that he would stretch you like no one did before because you haven’t had many Alphas yet and Steve’s cock is thick and long.

Steve’s eyes immediately open and widen when he hears a soft knock at the door. He lets go of his cock before he mumbles a soft “come in”. You have seen him under the shower often, so it’s nothing new but he never had a hard on or at least just jerked off while thinking about you.

You open the door, walking into the room. You’re not looking at him, you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, but you just don’t feel like being alone right now. Since you’re kids you’re used to sit in the bathroom with one another — when you were kids you also had a bath together — and just talk or be in silence.

“What’s up, princess?” Steve asks, turning around when you take a seat on the floor. You sigh softly, playing with your fingers in your lap, while Steve starts to wash himself.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come to the mission with you during my heat but I thought it wouldn’t be that bad, you know? And I’m sorry for throwing your clothes away, I just got mad when you said that,” you admit, looking around while you listen to the water of the shower.

“It’s oke, princess. I don’t blame you, but I don’t want you to be in danger and you know it’s easier to smell you when you’re in heat. Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve says, rubbing the shampoo into his hair before he continues to clean his body while he talks to you, making you laugh over and over again.

After the shower Steve asked you to look for some movies while he gets dressed, he used the moment to give his hard cock some relief. You immediately agreed and made your way back into the bedroom. Then you looked for a movie and built your nest with his shirts again.

Steve got a few snacks and drinks for the two of you and now you’re cuddled up into his side, his hand caressing your back softly while you watch the movie. It’s almost finished and you can’t wait to get some sleep, the cramps in your stomach getting worse but you try to ignore that and hide it from Steve.

Your best friend feels your tensing, his hand snaking around your waist to your lower stomach and he draws small circles on it, cashing you to sigh softly. The cramps aren’t completely gone but it’s definitely feeling really good when Steve caresses your skin as softly as he does right now.

When the movie ends you’re settling properly in bed, your back turned toward Steve and your knees close to your chest to try to get rid of the cramps. Steve feels your tension and he would love to help you but he won’t pressure you so he just tried to get some sleep himself.

After a few hours where you just tossed and turned around, Steve is still awake, knowing that you’re asleep. Your whimpers are louder as before and your scent is surrounding him, his mind goes dizzy and he can’t focus on anything else than you.

As hard as he tries to push the alpha inside of him to the side he can’t stop it anymore, needs you — needs to comfort you and needs to be inside you to give himself some relief too.

He slowly rolls to the side, you’re curled up into a little ball next to him, whimpering and tears fall down your cheeks but you’re still asleep. Steve reaches his hand out to slide over your arm, causing you to shiver lightly, his fingers brush over the soft skin of your arm to your shoulder. He puts some pressure on you, causing you to turn on your back while he guides his fingers over your breast.

A needy whine leaves your lips and you wake up slowly, noticing the soft touches. Steve smirks when you open your eyes and look at him with your sleepy expression. You look just so adorable and he can’t get his eyes off of you.

“W—What are you doing, Stevie?” You ask, his touch is still soft but intimate already. It’s not like it bothers you but you wonder what happens because he had himself always under control.

A low groan leaves his lips and his eyes are almost completely dark while he stares at you. His tongue poking out, wetting his lips. “Need to comfort you, ‘mega. Fucking need you, ‘m so hard for you and it will help you with your cramps, omega.”

His voice is rough and you shiver when you nod slightly. Steve’s fingers wrap around your breast, squeezing the soft flesh through your shirt before he pinches your nipple slightly. He causes moans to escape your mouth, groaning when he does that, his cock twitching in his pants and he can’t wait to bury his cock in his home — your tight, wet pussy.

Steve’s hand slides lower, over your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He doesn’t have much control anymore, he just needs you so bad. While his hand snakes over your body he sits up to get in between your legs.

“Spread those pretty legs for me, princess,” he mumbles, his big hand now caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh while he pushes them softly apart. He then gets in between them, his thick thighs touching yours and you can feel his tensed muscles, his soft curly hair on his thighs against your skin.

Your best friend towers over you, his veiny hands on your thighs while you look at him. Your eyes roaming over his body, from his handsome face over his broad chest to his highly defined abs before you reach the big bulge underneath his boxer briefs.

“Look so pretty, and you smell so good. Can’t sleep with your soft whimpers and this fucking scent of yours all around me,” the Alpha groans, moving a bit until his chest is on top of yours hand he thrusts his hips forward.

You can feel his hard dick and fat balls through the fabric, rubbing against your already wet pussy and causing you to moan louder.

“That’s what you need, don’t you, omega? Need a cock to fill you. Need my cock to fill you,” he says, voice low and you can’t help but shiver about the tone in his voice.

Steve used to talk to you with such a soft and sweet voice but right now there is nothing left of your sweet boyfriend, instead of him you have a big Alpha towering above you, ready to ruin you for every other man.

“Stevie, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re asking for — probably everything he is willing to give you. He grins at you, his one hand grasping your chin to make you look him deep into his beautiful eyes while he pushes his hips forward.

“What do you want, ‘mega?” He asks, knowing exactly what you need and want but he doesn't want to give it to you just yet. He wants you begging and whining for his cock.

“Need you, please. Alpha, need your cock, please, your knot, fill me with it,” you beg, blushing when those words leave your lips. You have never felt that vulnerable and embarrassed, never begged for an Alpha's cock — and never thought you would beg for your best friend's dick.

Steve smirks, letting go of you to lean back to finally take off his clothes. You follow his movements with your eyes when he gets up and stands next to the bed, leaving you all needy and desperate for him.

“S—“ you want to ask him why he doesn’t give you his cock even though you asked nicely but just when you want to ask, he grasps the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.

Your mouth drops open when his hard cock springs free. His length is huge, a vein running along the underside of it, the tip read and leaking with pre-cum. His balls are just as huge as his cock and you wanna lick them, want him to stuff them into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sight, arousal flowing out of you, causing a wet spot in your panties.

“Stevie, it won’t fit, y—you’re soo big,” you say, pouting softly. He chuckles before he throws his shirt somewhere in the room to get on top of you again.

He plays with the hem of your shirt, pushing it slowly up to reveal your stomach, kissing and biting into your soft skin before he helps you out of it completely. A low groan slips past his lips when he admires your tits, his lips moving from your stomach to the swell of your left breast and he licks a strap over the soft flesh.

You arch your back, pussy pressing against his cock, while Steve sucks at your nipple, his teeth scratching softly over the skin while he twirls his tongue around it. He definitely knows what feels good, and you crave more of the pleasure and of him.

Steve’s hands move to your hips, pushing you down to stop you from grinding against him. You whine, trying to push against him but the alpha is way stronger than you and you end up wiggling underneath him until he raises his head and raises an eyebrow.

“Stop wiggling like a little slut, omega. Or I’m gonna treat you like one, so stay still and let me enjoy your sweetness before I’m going to ruin you,” he growls, bringing his lips back to your chest to continue sucking, biting and licking your soft skin.

Your best friend is already addicted to your soft chest, knowing that you’re going to ruin him for every other woman just as much as he is going to ruin you for every other man. Maybe he will ask you if he is allowed to claim you later or he will do it at another point, maybe making you beg for him to claim you. But he is at least sure that he is going to make you his, with your permission but he is sure you don’t want someone else when you can have your best friend as your Alpha. Just as much as he wants you to be your alpha, he wants to wear the mark of your bond on his skin as well, letting everyone know that he belongs to you.

“Steve, please. Need you so bad, don’t tease me, please,” you whine, pushing your chest up and press it against his face. He growls against you, sending vibrations through your body, while he pins your waist with his hands into the bed.

“Stop the whining or you won’t get my cock at all. Had to wait to get you so long, denying me all the time,” he says, biting into the swell of your breast to underline his words — his desperation.

He slowly moves his lips further down to your stomach, his fingers gliding to the waistband of your panties and he hooks them into it, tugging at it slightly before he lets it snap back against you.

Even though he doesn’t want you to whine and wiggle, he enjoys the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips — needy and begging for him.

Steve wouldn’t have told you that his Alpha is craving you, he knew you wouldn’t like to ruin your friendship and he didn’t want to do it either. But now? Having you whining and whimpering next to him, during your heat. His anger that you didn’t tell him and tried to hide it from him combined with his Alpha instincts makes him go crazy and feral for you.

Your best friend sits up, sliding the thin frantic down to reveal your dripping pussy. He tried his best to remove your panties without destroying them but the smell of your arousal, your dripping pussy and your fucked out look already lets him forget about his actual plan.

You hear your panties being ripped into two pieces before he throws them somewhere into the room. You want to protest, telling him that they were one of your favorite pairs of panties but every thought disappears when the Alpha places one of his hands on your lower stomach, his thumb finding its way to your clit and he presses down against your sensitive spot.

“Good girl, such a sweet omega. Look at you, dripping for your Alpha,” he says, grinning at you when he moves his fingers lower, parting your soaked folds while he admires your glistening skin down there. “Yeah, so ready for me, look at you, all ready for my cock.”

You feel your cheeks heat up with his intense stare at your most intimate part. Steve brings his other hand to your wet entrance, pushing one of his digits against your tight hole before he circles his fingers around it. You’re moaning underneath his soft touches, trying to close your legs but his thick thighs hold them spread apart.

Steve’s cock is painfully hard, leaking down his shaft and he just wants to thrust into you but he wants to be at least a bit nice and prepare you first, will he? You’re dripping down your ass and onto the sheets already, so maybe he could just push inside of you and enjoy your walls gripping his cock?

“Princess?” He asks, waiting for you to nod your head. When you do, his expression softens and he removes his hands from your pussy and brings them back to your hips. “Do you want me to stretch you open on my fingers first or would you mind me just stretching you open on my cock? I will be careful, but I need you so bad, ‘mega.”

“Split me open with your cock, Alpha, please. Need your cock, Stevie,” you beg, feeling his thick tip against your pussy. Steve groans, he wasn’t prepared for you begging for his cock like that when he offers you to destroy your pussy.

“But you will tell me to stop when you can’t handle my cock. Just say red and I will stop. Yellow when you want me to slow down and green when I can continue, get it, omega?” He asks with his soft voice and you nod, this time it’s not enough of an answer for him and your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. You shiver lightly underneath him, his intense looks and his touches make your mind go dizzy and you can’t focus on anything but him and his cock.

“Y—Yes, Alpha,” you mumble, your fingers digging into the sheet and you buck your hips. Steve’s cock slides through your folds, causing both of you to moan.

With a soft smile he leans down, his lips touching yours for a soft kiss before he snakes one of his hands between your bodies to his cock. Steve looks deep into your eyes while he lines his cock up with your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, his red tip stretching you open and your jaw drops open when you feel how thick he really is.

“Color, omega?” Steve’s one hand is still holding your waist, pushing you into the mattress while he places his other next to you shoulder to hold himself up above you. His lips trailing all over your face, leaving soft kisses while he entered you inch by inch.

“Green! It’s so fucking green,” you moan, arching your back until Steve’s chest is pressed against yours.

He chuckles at you, actually he would tell you to not use that kind of words but your pussy is hugging his cock too well to think about something like that right now. Steve pushes forward until he is balls deep into you, stretching you out like no one else could.

You’re panting, hands gripping his back while you try to ground yourself. Steve doesn’t move, waiting for you to adjust before he’s going to ruin you completely. Your pussy is burning lightly, the stretch still the most pleasurable feeling you ever had and you want him to finally move, finally fuck you.

“St— Alpha, please. Move!” You whine, legs wrapping around his legs and you dig your feet into his thighs. But Steve doesn’t move, he smirks at your desperation, his cock seated perfectly warm and wet inside of your tightness while he feels your slick flowing down your ass and all over his balls.

“You’re so desperate, gimme a moment to enjoy the moment of your pussy before I’m gonna destroy it,” he growls, smirking at you before he presses his lips softly against yours. His tone is the complete opposite of his soft kisses and you whimper.

Steve’s cock is twitching inside of you, you’re sure that you can feel every vein of his length and it makes you want him more. Your best friend bites into your lower lip, causing you to whine before he pulls his cock out of you.

“You’re sure, omega?”

“Wasn’t ever more sure than that, Stevie!”

Those words are all he needs before he slams his cock into you. You almost scream about the sudden pain inside of you. His cock hitting your cervix and your eyes widen when you realize that he is really going to ruin your pussy with his huge cock. Steve thrusts his hips forward and backward, pushing into you with such force that you’re sure you’re going to hit the headboard of the bed when he wouldn’t hold you in place by your hips.

“S-Stevie, p-please,” you beg, not sure what you’re begging for because he fucks you so hard, that you can’t ask for more but you don’t want him to stop either.

Steve chuckles, his fingers brushing through your hair, his lips trailing along your jaw, while he speeds his thrusts up. His balls slapping against your ass, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, while you squeeze him tightly, sucking him deeper into your greedy pussy.

“Take it, fuck— take it, omega. Doing so well, fuck, feeling so good. Pussy is gripping my cock and not letting me move easily, princess,” Steve swears under his breath, his knot growing and his balls tightening while he thrusts hard into you.

He needs you to come for him so badly, he wants you to come on his cock twice — one time just one his cock and the second time together with him. Steve wants to feel your pussy clenching even more around him and needs your walls to grip him until he can barely move inside of you.

He smirks mischievously at you, groaning when you squeeze his cock. He then lowers his face to your neck, sucking at your soft skin, he wants to claim you, but he doesn’t want to do it without asking you and he isn’t sure if you could answer properly. Steve loves you, but claiming you would mean forever and he doesn’t want to ask you when you’re cock drunk and in a state you would probably agree with everything as long as he is keeping his cock inside of you.

So he only scratches his teeth over the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking until he leaves dark blue and purple bruises all over your neck. He never slows his pace down, as much as he wants to come already, he learned to hold it for a while.

“Touch yourself, ‘mega. Make yourself come on my cock, fuck— Your pussy feels perfect around me, made for my cock, princess,” Steve mumbles. He feels your hand sliding between your bodies to your core.

He definitely needs to make you touch yourself when he is just watching you. He is sure he would almost come in his pants from just watching when you touch yourself but right now his goal is another one — making you come before he allows himself to come and when you’re just laying underneath him, cock drunk and whimpering you can at least help him to make you come on his cock.

“Stevie, please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum, your knot, please,” you whimper, circling your clit. Your eyes fall shut when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Your pussy is squeezing Steve more and he needs all of his control to not come immediately.

“Come, princess. Soak my cock, come all over it,” he groans, speeding his thrusts up. It only needs a few more thrusts against your sweet spot before you come around his cock.

Your cock drops open, your fingers digging into his muscular back, while Steve doesn’t slow down his pace. His cock pulsing inside of you, your walls gripping him more and sucking him deeper, making it almost impossible for him to move.

Steve slides his fingers still through your hair, fucking you through your orgasm. “Look at you, doing so well for your Alpha. Squeezing my cock so well, a feeling so perfect when you come around it, and you’re looking so fucking beautiful when you come, princess.”

Your best friend's praises make you smile softly and you open your eyes, staring into his ocean blue ones, when he slows the pace of his thrusts down.

“Don’t stop, Alpha, p-please, need your cum,” you whimper, pouting. Steve shakes his head, still moving his cock inside of you, while he calms you down.

“Don’t worry, omega. I will give you whatever you ask for,” Steve tells you, kissing you softly before he picks up his pace again. His cock slamming into you, not caring that your pussy is all sensitive from your last orgasm. As long as you don’t tell him to stop he won’t stop fucking you — his sweet little omega.

“Feel that? Feel my knot growing for you? Giving you all my cum, fuck— Princess, you feel so good. Thought I would ruin you for every other Alpha but looks like you’re doing the same with me, Omega.”

You giggle softly before Steve slams his cock back into you again. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over again. Soft pain with much pleasure filling your body and you’re addicted to that feeling — addicted to your best friend and his cock.

“So cock drunk, aren’t you? Come, omega, give me another one, know you can do it, come all over my cock,” he growls into your ear, his breath hitching when you squeeze his cock once again.

You didn’t know you could come that fast after your first orgasm but you feel the pressure in your lower stomach growing once again. Your breath is heavy, your body just as sweaty as Steve’s and your legs start to shake.

“S—Stevie, I’m so close, please. Alpha, need your knot, so badly,” you utter, nails digging into his skin and you’re sure you leave marks on your back.

Your Alpha smirks at your request, but gives it gladly to you. He hasn’t planned to stop fucking you before he comes so your request is just the perfect addition to his needs.

Your walls are pulsing, his cock is twitching and you feel his knot growing inside of your pussy, stretching it even more. “Fuck, come, omega, now!”

Steve’s low voice, his demand and his cock hitting all the right spots brings you over the edge once again. You’re screaming his name, squirting all over him, when he comes inside of you with an animalistic groan. His cum painting your walls and it feels like he doesn’t stop to come at all. His knot holding his cock inside of you, Steve’s not able to pull his cock out — not that he wants to.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel that? Feel all my fucking cum? Just for you, princess, giving it all to you, my sweet omega,” he mumbles while you both catch your breath.

Tears fall down your cheeks and only his weight on top of you helps you to ground yourself. The feeling of your orgasm and his cock and cum so deep inside of you is just overwhelming and you can’t help but let the tears fall down your cheeks.

When Steve lifts his head to look at you his expulsion changes immediately into a worried one. His big hands slides to your cheek, wiping the tears away before he presses his lips down to remove the trails of them.

“Color, princess? Too rough? Too much? Aww princess, you were so good for me, you took my cock like a good girl, yeah, squirting all over me, was it too much?” Steve asks, not giving you a moment to answer while he praises you over and over again. You shake your head, whimpering when he moves softly, his cock shifting slightly inside of you as well.

“I— You weren't too rough, I loved it, Stevie. B—But, I-Iloveyou,” you say quietly, muffling your words when you press your face into the crook of your best friend's neck.

You didn’t think that Steve got what you said since you muffled your sounds and tried to speak as fast as possible but he understood it and smirks softly. His big hand is still caressing your cheek, while he swirls a strand of your hair around his thick fingers.

“I love you too, princess. But I understand when you don’t want me to claim you, or want to have another kind of relationship with me than friendship. I love you, as my best friend but also as my omega. But I won’t pressure you into something, princess,” he assures you, letting himself fall down on top of you, to let you feel more of his broad body.

You immediately wrap your arms tighter around his back, inhaling his scent. “Would you also— would you ever betray me when I’m not enough for you anymore? Maybe you will find a better Omega and love her more then?”

“Princess, stop that. Don’t think like that, you’re more than enough, so much love and affection inside of your big heart. Why should I ever want someone else when I can have you?” He asks, pushing you softly back while he looks into your eyes — and you see nothing but love in them, the truth, like a promise.

“Why are you always so fucki—“

“Omega!” Steve warns, raising an eyebrow when you giggle softly. You feel a tingle inside of your body and your pussy clenches when he talks to you like that. Steve growls, throwing his head back. “That’s what you like, huh?”

You nod your head, even though your pussy is answering for you too. “But you were swearing the whole time, Stevie,” you pout, giggling more when he pokes his fingers into your sides.

“That’s a difference, I just fucked you and wasn’t able to focus on something that wasn’t your pussy, princess,” he smirks, kissing you softly when you blush. “I love you, and I will protect you, let me make you mine next time. There is no one I could want when I have you.”

You nod, leaning up to chase his lips for a much needed kiss — no desperation, no roughness, just love and the promise you make to one another. “Oke, but only when I get a bubble bath now, with a lot of bubbles and you!”

He rolls his eyes playfully but agrees, kissing you softly before he turns the two of you around and gets up, his cock still inside of you, when he carries you into the bathroom to run you a warm bubble bath. He doesn’t care how late it is, that you should sleep, his princess needs a bubble bath with him? You get a bubble bath with him plus a massage and as many cuddles as you want.

“I love you too Stevie. And when you already pumped me full you could have asked to claim me already!”

“You were such a little cock drunk slut for me, princess. But I will make you mine before we go home tomorrow, we have all night to make you lose your mind on my cock,” he grins, kissing the top of your head when he slips his cock out of you and places you on the toilet to run a bath.

“I guess you’re the one who is going crazy with his cock in my pussy, Stevie. Or what were you thinking about when you jerked off earlier that day?”

You knew what he did in the shower, you have seen his hard cock for a brief moment but it was enough for you to see it being rock hard. And you’re not dumb, you know exactly when your best friend takes a shower because he needs one or because he has to need one. Steve blushes softly when you mention it, but then he smirks.

“Can’t help myself with such a sweet omega around me. My omega, princess,” Steve utters, picking you up from the toilet to place you in the warm water with a whole lot of bubbles before he gets into the bathtub behind you, pulling you close against him. Steve’s broad chest pressing against your back and you sight softly when you place your head against his shoulder and letting his big hands wander over your thighs and stomach, drawing small circles on your skin.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @felicitylemon @cjand10 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @blackhawkfanatic @multiversefanfics @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @elyse-harper81 @loki-laufeyson68

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demonicbaby666 · 11 months ago

Note

Dom Emily prentiss x intern fem reader is all i ask!! Smutty ofc, a lil bit of a humiliation kink if you’re comfortable!!! Thank yewww

Packing Heat

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 4.8k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, strap-ons (r!receiving), semi-public sex (office sex, again…), praise, degradation, mommy kink, kind of dub-con at one point, top!Emily, bottom!reader

Summary: Interning at the BAU means you don’t interact with the person in charge a lot. Of course, this doesn’t mean you haven’t seen the section chief in passing or exchanged pleasantries; it's that they’re simple, short-lived and often anti-climatic. However one evening, you find yourself in the desolate office with no chance of going home, work to be done, but no one to sit with you through the process. With only one other soul residing on the sixth floor, it seems Emily may be your best bet for company.

A/n: Listen, could she be more dom? Yes. Is there any humiliation? Not really... But I got lost while writing, so please don't be mad at me... Hope you still enjoy!

When you'd first started at the BAU, it was safe to say you hadn't seen much of the woman calling the shots. There were always updates about when the team were taken out of state, what their cases would entail, the steady progress being made, and the brief comical encounters Garcia spewed around the office. When they were back, everyone made an effort to small talk. They welcomed you well and continued to appreciate the little things you did for them daily. Emily, however, was constantly on the go, meaning every encounter you'd had with her consisted of one-way glances and hopeful smiles in the event she decided to notice her surroundings and the human lifeform less than two metres away.

She never did, though, until one uneventful evening.

Almost everyone had vacated the building. The only remaining souls left on the sixth floor were you, Emily, and a one-person cleaning crew—whom you watched exit through glass doors before approaching the brunette's office with shaky knees. Peeking through the window, you saw her attention dart to and from the bright computer screen to the mountains of bureaucratic paperwork lying atop her desk. It was easy to get lost in the little creases between her eyebrows, brought out by the deep scowl she wore, the delicate way her fingers were woven together, and the pads of her thumbs skirting against one another as she pondered in deep thought.

It was nearing eight, and you were struggling to understand how someone could appear so put together at this late hour, given that their day was most certainly jam-packed with non-stop slog.

Emily's eyes suddenly flashed up. She squinted toward her door, trying to figure out who'd be here this late other than herself. When she appeared to have worked it out, she leaned back victoriously in her chair, a smug smile on her face, when she called out, "Are you going to stand out there all night?"

You could have done two things: scurried off like a teenager caught peeping or held your chin up high and walked into the older woman's office with little to no shame. Somehow, you managed to do a mix of both, scurrying in with sagging shoulders, a guilty smile plastered on your face and trembling hands clasping your laptop over your chest.

"Well, it's eerily quiet out there, and I would go home to write this paper. It's just that my roommate and her boyfriend have an awful tendency to forget about volume control when they're—" You cut yourself off, realising it probably wasn't appropriate to talk to your boss about your roommate's over-the-top borderline pornographic soundscape. "I was wondering if I could, you know."

Emily, satirising as ever, waited with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile for you to continue your purposefully unfinished question.

"Sorry, I should let you work." You surrendered to your weak resolve with flushed cheeks and began to turn around.

"Sit," she ordered before you had fully turned back around to the door, nodding to the available chair on the other side of her desk. Her eyes followed your journey to the seat, watching as you placed your laptop down and opened it with shaky fingers. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to her work. "I could do with some company."

The following silence, starting as unsettling and stagnant, blossomed into something warm and comfortable. There were occasional glances thrown your way and vice versa. Their acknowledgement and appreciation were shown in the form of timid smiles on your end and double takes followed by teasing smirks on Emily's.

When half an hour had passed, your shoulders had finally relaxed, your fingers had stopped their infernal twitching, and your paper neared its completion. There was a proud smile cresting, and you were trying to prevent it from forming, knowing how dorkish it made you look. But you knew there was no hope when your cheeks ached and your jaw locked. You granted yourself the freedom to display your gloating smile.

Just as expected, Emily had a questioning look on her face when you dared to look up from the document. There was a playfulness to the upward quirk of her lips - the superiority of a predator knowing the power they have over their prey, ready to prove it at any given moment.

"I've almost finished," you timidly admitted, feeling obligated to explain as heat infiltrated your jutted-out cheeks.

Without a second thought, the ravenette stood up and made her way around the desk. She could have easily chosen to turn the laptop around. Instead, she took the far more intimate route.

Soft curves grazed your shoulder blades, causing you to shiver. The weight finally settled, soft padding pressed flat against your back as Emily read your paper, and suddenly, your stomach had worked itself into looping knots, and your heart was racing.

The struggle continued as you fought not to fidget, if only to alleviate the growing tension mounting between your thighs. This was only made worse when Emily's right hand left the back of your chair to drop down over your shoulder and land comfortably on your thigh.

"Such a smart girl," she whispered sultrily into the shell of your ear, squeezing generous flesh between her fingers.

With a scrambled brain, there was little fight to be put up against the meek whimper that crackled against the constricted lining of your throat. Subconsciously, your thighs tensed, and your pussy fluttered as you were reminded how close Emily's hand was to where you could only dream she'd touch.

You'd thought you imagined it—the subtle shift in the room from breezy and light to torrid and all-consuming, but with Emily's fingers veering off course, inching higher and higher, reality came crashing down.

"Thank you," you struggled to get the words out, and when they did come out, they were tremulous and feeble.

Turning to look at her may have, in hindsight, been a mistake because where her gaze should have been fixed on the laptop screen, it was glued to your lips. Unexpectedly, your stomach flipped, and you felt dizzy. She was still superbly perfect up close, skin smooth like silk, cheekbones sharp as a razor, and lips cut from velvet. It was too close, dangerously so, you had to look away. Outside the window, you spotted a swarm of birds barely visible against the night sky. You ignored the clanking of your heart as you focussed on their synchronicity, watching them circle each other until they became one big blur of messy movements.

The hand resting on the leather backing of your chair rose, skirting up and over your neck, until a firm grip was established around your dangling ponytail. She was gentle when she tugged, aware that though she wanted to educate you in the art of being owned, you were delicate.

"I think a pretty thing like you deserves a reward," she baited. "Don't you?"

Her grip on you may have been physical. However, a stronger pull was coming from deep within you, an unimportant piece of scrap metal drawn in by a powerful magnet. It was useless to deny her. The mesmerising glow of her chocolate eyes and the promise of being made to feel special was too powerful. So, you nodded slowly but eagerly, desire painting your eyes dark shades of lust.

"That's a good girl."

Emily didn't miss how you preened at the praise and safely stored that information away for further use. She shifted to your side, hands migrating to the small of your waist, guiding you to your feet. The act of it was far gentler than you'd expected, like a gentleman asking a maiden to dance, sweeping her off her feet to whisk her away into a fairytale land filled with magic and romance.

Certain the benign treatment would be short-lived, you granted yourself the leniency to enjoy it whilst it lasted, refusing to get too caught up in the dull ache between your legs that craved the form of savagery Emily displayed in the field.

There was nothing short of passion in how she worked. It drove you crazy. As wrong as it felt, you couldn't help but envy the dirtbag the team was working to catch because you saw how badly the brunette wanted them. The look in her eyes, gratification and disgust all at once, when she'd achieved what she set out to do and was staring the devil right in the face - it made your heart race, your palms sweat and your cunt throb.

The memory kickstarted what could only be described as a brutal attack upon the older woman's lips. To her credit, Emily indulged the outburst for a lot longer than you'd have thought. As if she'd expected it, she quickly responded, pulling you into her body and tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. The lead was stolen promptly from your grasp when Emily wedged a leg between your thighs, backed you up against her desk and tactically slid her tongue into your gaped mouth. You would have gasped if not for the fact you were immediately indulged in the minty taste of your boss's tongue skirting over the roof of your mouth. So much so that you scarcely noticed the pressure coming from your core was no longer just a phantom need manifested but taut clothed muscle pressing you further and further into the sharp wooden edge of the desk.

"Emily," you breathily moaned, pulling back and separating your kiss-swollen lips from the brunette's. Ordinarily, you wouldn't have allowed what happened next to occur, but this was Emily, after all, the BAU section chief, and if you were to let anyone order you about, it would be her.

She backed away from you with a final nip to your bottom lip, letting it go with a pop, and you fought the urge to reach out and pull her back to you. You knew you'd already tried to take things into your own hands once, and doing so again may undermine any chances you had of keeping the ball rolling on tonight's affairs.

You could feel the tight pull of your ponytail and all the places where hair had been lead array from the confines of your hairband, and it truly dawned on you how out of sorts you must have appeared. Tracing your fingers over your lips, you could make out how swollen they were - puffy and hot, yet desperate and pouted, begging for more. Your breathing was laboured, filling the room's silence, and your shirt suddenly felt too tight as your chest expanded with each intake of oxygen. It almost came as a relief when Emily opened her mouth to finally speak until you heard what she'd said.

"Take your clothes off," she mindlessly ordered, walking around to her chair and sitting back in it. Her eager eyes trained over your body with the faintest shimmer of mirth.

Initially, it was a shock. Of course, it was. You were in an official government building, personnel still sparsely spread throughout, and a goddess of a woman was asking you to bare yourself to her.

For the longest time, revealing your body to someone always felt like giving up something. Perhaps some kind of purity. The moment you gave it up, it bred only guilt and shame that twisted and pulled at the pit of your stomach until you felt sick. You stood there, waiting for that feeling to come. It never did.

Remaining still, your body pulsed not with nerves but with exhilaration and anticipation. It took a few seconds to realise this was precisely what you wanted. You wanted to give this false sense of purity away. There was not a sudden influx of courage soaring through every living cell of your body. However, there was enough for you to put on a front and do as you were told.

"Slowly." Emily sat further back and placed her elbows neatly over the arms of her chair. She laced her fingers together, offered you an encouraging nod, and then was back to watching you raptly.

Feeling like a glutton, you followed a path of desire and heeded Emily's request, fingers increasingly fumbling over each button of your shirt.

"So obedient." And in no way was it said negatively; the adulatory smile she gave you only sought to prove that further.

The way she looked at you made you feel as though you were already naked. Maybe that was why it was so easy to get lost in the subtlety of undressing. It was art, and you were a performer. That's what you told yourself. And for the most part, it worked.

With closed eyes, you trailed your fingers over your shoulders, letting your shirt drop to the floor. The AC raised goosebumps over your chest, pebbled your nipples under your plain bra, and you smiled. You smiled because this was the most alive you had felt in months. The thrill of moving on to your slacks and deftly unclasping your belt felt like being on a rollercoaster, like missing a step and laughing fear in the face afterwards. You felt utterly fearless.

In the back of your mind, you could sense Emily's eyes still on you. You could hear her moving around but didn't think to check her reaction. You were in your element, and far be it for a look of appraisal, or lack of, to stop you. That was until your trousers hit the carpet with a soft thud, and a sharp breath was heard from across you.

Your eyes snapped open, and you found Emily's smile was absent. The brunette now had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked you up and down, knuckles white from her deadly grip over the armrests.

She lifted a hand, palm facing the ceiling as her index and middle finger crooked. "Come here so I can get a proper look at you," she said, slightly breathless.

The desk had conveniently covered the lower half of Emily's body, which meant that when you circled around and came to stand next to her, you could see exactly what the earlier ruffling had been about.

"Is that?" You froze, both shocked and utterly intrigued by the thick black dildo jutting out from the older woman's opened slacks.

She didn't need you to finish the question, already nodding as she followed your line of sight. Leaning forward with an outstretched arm, Emily coiled her fingers around your wrist and pulled you forward, causing you to almost stumble over your own feet. At this closer distance, you could tell the faux cock would give you a run for your money. It was thicker than anything you had taken before, though that was not a hard trophy to earn, given that the most you had let anyone put inside you was three fingers.

"Do you want to come sit on mommy's lap?" Emily asked with a tilt of her head.

She didn't miss how your breath caught in your throat, how you seemed to stop blinking, stop moving, stop existing.

"Are you scared?" the lioness asked, sights set on her prized fawn.

You shook your head and placed one foot in front of the other, eyes downcast as you took in the size of Emily's additional appendage. The shake of your jaw gave you away.

"I don't like being lied to," she snapped, eyes dimming to an even darker shade of brown.

She pulled you in by your waist and sat you on her lap, cock brushing over the thin material of your underwear. Instinctively, you wedged your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself. But Emily wasn't having any of it. Her thumb came to your captive lip, where she helped release it with a soft flick.

The smooth texture of Emily's cock through your sodden panties was a needed relief. Its head purposefully pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves evoked a flurry of shivers to run down your spine. And with nothing holding you back, you moaned in gratitude.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Emily smirked, watching you rut against her.

"Yes," you uttered, breath caught in your throat.

Happy to watch, Emily relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, enjoying the show you were putting on for her. Only when she recognised the tell-tell signs of frustration wash over your features, from your creased brow to the bite of your lip between your teeth, did a sick smirk lick the edges of her lips. With a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, the older woman shifted her position, pointedly ignoring the sound it pulled from you.

"Something wrong?" she asked with a hitch of one eyebrow, adamant to appear oblivious.

You gave no reply, only held tight to her shoulders in defiance and continually ground down on her, trying so hard to pleasure yourself to no avail that your eyes began to sting with the emergence of tears.

With sweat threatening to spill down the side of your face, the tension between your legs starting to ache, and your release nowhere near in sight, you threw your head back with a sigh and whispered a quiet 'please' to the ceiling.

"Please what?" Came the dull reply, tone bored, unamused, unimpressed.

You tried to impale yourself, failing as strong hands held you down. It was driving you crazy—pleasure being so close yet so far.

With one hand removed from your hip, Emily gripped your jaw and turned your attention solely to her stern gaze, "Are you going to stop being a brat and tell me what you want?"

When no answer came, she let go, jerking your head back as if disgusted with the lack of compliance.

"Get up."

Ice, you were made of ice. Sat still, shocked, speechless and slightly mortified.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Emily's voice was no longer flat; it was not roaring either. Instead, it was layered, resembling the same barbed tone a teacher might use with a disobedient student. It was enough of a motivator to get you to rise to your feet.

Following you closely, the older woman, too, rose to her full height, hands meticulously reaching behind your back to expertly relieve you of your bra. Never once did she look you in the eye.

With the same callous approach, you were turned and pressed against the desk, papers sticking to your heated chest. Emily was quick to loop her fingers through the hem of your underwear and slip them down your thighs, allowing gravity to do the rest.

The full-bodied presence behind you lessened, and you took it as the opportune moment to glance back.

The brunette had let her trousers drop to the floor, allowing you to see how her porcelain skin was directly contrasted by the black leather of her strap-on. Unlike yourself, she did not appear nervous or afraid. As she kicked the tailored pants aside and met your gaze, you realised how in control she was.

Her gaze moved down your body, hands running down your back, until finally, she pressed herself against you and lowered her body atop yours.

"I can feel how wet you are," she teased, running two fingers through the mess between your legs. "Are you always this wet?"

"Emily, please," you begged.

"I asked before, please what?" She raked five fingers down your side, moving them back up till they wound tightly in your hair and gripped your neck to an uncomfortable arch. Two fingers pushed inside you but did no more than that, remaining still as stone. "If you're going to be a baby and refuse to tell me what you want, you'll get nothing."

"Fuck me!" You no longer had the sound of mind to acknowledge shouting something vulgar could attract attention. Logic had evaded you, allowing you to play right into your boss's hands. "Please just fuck me."

Sliding her slick fingers out of you, she proudly stated, "That wasn't hard, was it?"

If the older woman wanted an answer, she did not allow for one. In one fluid motion, she rose from over you and snapped her hips forward, sheathing the entire length of her cock into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, resulting in a strained groan tumbling out of your open mouth. The pit of your stomach dropped, and try as you might have not to clench around the toy inside you, you did precisely that.

It was new, the foreign feeling of being filled so fully that one slight move would summon pleasure that sent shivers through your whole body. It wasn't unwelcome, especially when Emily started to move, and heat engulfed your entire body. Her pace was languid, allowing you to feel each slide of her cock along your slick walls, how each push of her hips ended in the tip hitting the spot within you to cause the furling in your stomach to expand tenfold. It was all you could do not to scream when the push and pull and Emily's hips moved with more purpose, jerking your body into the edge of her desk.

"I've barely started, and you're already dripping down your thighs." Her voice was laced with mirth, finger smearing your mess as if to prove an unnecessary point that had your cheeks burning up. "How long have you been thinking about this?" Emily finished her question with an arduous thrust. "How many times have you sunk your fingers into your pussy and thought of me?"

The questions continued, each hitting the nail right on the head. Your cheeks were scorched with the embarrassment that comes with having your desires known and exposed, but it did not take hold of your conscience as the event of falling in front of a large crowd might have. It was comparable to how a blushing maiden may feel when caught by a suitor in only their undergarments. It excited that small part of you that gave in to demoralisation and encouraged you enough to meet Emily halfway as she thrust into you.

As your pleasure mounted, the need for more grew. Your clit, swollen and needy, begged for relief, and you beckoned to its call, sliding one hand from above your head to the juncture between your legs. It was when the tips of your fingers brushed against your sensitive pearl and you gained the briefest taste of the euphoria that Emily removed her hand from your thigh and snatched your hand away, halting all movement.

You could have cried, having everything, then nothing, so quickly.

"Did I say you could do that?"

Abruptly pulling out, Emily stood tall and proud, staring down at you with curiosity and disappointment lining the brown of her eyes. She heard you whimper and acknowledged your sniffle.

"There's no need to cry," she tutted, flipping you onto your back and lifting you by your shoulders. "You're going to listen to me from now on."

You nodded, and she once again lined her cock to your opening, only now she waited, taunting you with possibilities.

"Beg," she instructed.

And you heeded.

"Please. I need you."

"You can do better." She sounded bored, and this struck a nerve within you, one that begged you to impress her, show her you could be a good little girl, and beg as though your life depended on it.

You took a heaving breath and looked into Emily's eyes, sporting your best puppy eyes. "I need you. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your big cock, mommy. Make me scream out your name. I need it."

"There's a good pet," she cooed, mesmerising you with the bating of her lashes as she looked down to where your bodies were so close to touching.

It all happened in a blur. The next thing you knew, your nails were digging into muscled shoulders, legs wrapping around a slim waist as the brunette filled you, wasting no time in picking up a brutal tempo. You barely recognised the sound of your voice as high-pitched obscenities spilt past your lips. You felt your whole body light up, heard blood pulse in your ears, and saw in real-time just how easy it was to aid Emily in calling upon your impending orgasm.

Your vulgar mouth, luckily, seemed to amuse Emily enough for her to let you continue rutting your hips against her. The corners of her lips curled, and her smirk lasted only so long for you to see before she inched forward and kissed you with passion and hunger. It was easy, so easy, to melt into the brief moment of intimacy. The butterflies felt tangible, and the sparks crackled in your ears; it felt so fucking good you'd almost forgotten just where you were. Of course, bubbles eventually popped, and this one was demolished by rustling outside Emily's office.

What little movement Emily allowed, her hands holding you firmly against the desk by your waist, was not enough to wriggle free and glance behind to see what was happening. Instead, the possibility of being caught weighed heavier with each drawled-out second.

"Emily," You tried but were cut off by a tongue sliding into your mouth. "Emily, stop."

With a bite to your lip, the older woman backed off, confusion marking her features, "What is it?" she punctuated her question with a hard thrust.

"Someone's o-" another hard thrust. "Someone's outside."

Emily smiled, picking up her pace, forcing you to breathe so deep you felt your lungs expand.

"You'd better be quiet then."

Whatever protest you were about to give died in your throat when nails skirted up to your chest and dug painfully into your breast, and Emily pushed herself so deep within you that you felt her hitting your cervix. A strangled cry was briefly heard before you managed to clasp your hand over your lips and silence your own mewls. She was fucking you as if her life depended on getting a reaction out of you that would draw attention. Nevertheless, you held firm and stayed as quiet as your muffled sobs would allow you to be.

"Emily, please," you were pleading for release and for the brutal fucking stop because you knew there would be no chance you could keep a lid on your volume; there would also be no chance you would survive not cumming.

Taking note of this, the older woman took the route of giving you your release, dragging a thumb down over your clit and applying the right amount of pressure to have your tense legs turn into a shaky mess of tremors. She didn't stop there; with a brief slide, she ran your slick over your bundle of nerves and started to circle steadily.

"Fuck!" You screamed out, missing the way the ruffling outside suddenly stopped. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming."

"That's it," the brunette encouraged, her fingers coming up to crook and tangle through the mussed mess of your hair, nails slowly working against your scalp. "Let everyone hear what a slut you are, letting me fuck you over my desk."

She didn't stop, though, not when your clit felt raw and your pussy tender, not when you begged and not even when you reached out and tried to grab her wrist. Emily only yanked you down by your hair, relishing the thud the brutal move made. She fucked you harder till stationary fell to the floor from your thrashing arms, and by then, her lips were already wrapped around a nipple, sucking firm whilst you cried through a second orgasm.

When you finally felt empty, you didn't even try to open your eyes. You knew your vision would be blurred if not blacked out. Instead, you focussed on coming back down to earth, steading your breath and not thinking about how you strangely missed being filled by Emily despite being so fucking sore.

"Are you still alive?" a smug voice asked from above, and you pried your bleary eyes open to weakly smile.

"I think so," you whispered, peeling your sweat-slick back from the desk. That was when you remembered the unknown personnel outside and shot a look at the door.

"They're gone," Emily said, cupping your chin and turning you back to her. Again, you were greeted by that conniving smirk. "After your commentary, I think they understood we didn't want to be disturbed."

"But-"

"Uh-uh." she silenced you with a finger to your lips, the smell of yourself still narrowly fragrant. You took the digit into your mouth, patting yourself on the back as you watched Emily's eyes turn dark. "You want to make Mommy feel good now, don't you?" She knew the answer, but oh, how she loved to watch you sink to your knees and eagerly nod anyway. You helped unclasp the straps of her harness, then set to pealing the last barrier keeping you from her heat down her legs.

"My good little pet," she said, smiling down at you and happily watching you beam. Her hand cupped your jaw before moving to the back of your neck, where she pulled you to her core and began singing a melody of moans.

Tags: @ssa-sapphic @aws-l @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @jenna-ortega-is-pretty17177 @supercorpstan97 @kenyakimble34 @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @asolitaryrose3 @imlike-so-gaydude @maybe-a-humanbean @taylorswiftsboyfriend @bossofcriminalminds @asphodelvamp @jareguiromanoff @lilfartbox1 @lovelyy-moonlight @patronagrona @lostenby @storiesofsvu @mrs-prentiss @romanoffsho @paulilvsremus @waitaminutebaby @jarexuslover @lesbodietcoke @homo-oddity @milfsincrime @noahrex @pnsteblnme @asolitaryrose3 | click here to be added to my taglist

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss x y/n #lgbt #Emily Prentiss x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #cm

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lunarfleur · 8 months ago

Text

Kei Tsukishima Dating Hcs!

A/N: I’m back 😛

Warnings: none? Fluff!

Where to begin???

As everyone in this fandom agrees, he’s definitely a minimalistic kind of lover

It’s the small things: making you playlists, following the sidewalk rule, making sure you’ve eaten, making sure you’re not cold…

He’ll carry your bag when walking home from school or practice too!

He’s not used to saying “I love you” but he knows you know

He definitely is much more attracted those those who are intelligent, and he likes being with someone that can have a friendly debate with him

It’d be easier for him if they were better with emotions than him, but he doesn’t want them being completely emotionally dependent on him

When it comes to affection, he’s not used to it, so sometimes it can become too much very quickly

Very simple dates, mainly in the comfort of either his or your bedroom

He’s very big on quality time

Studying, snacks and a movie or two, a late night walk…

He’s not big on PDA but he compromises

He’ll hold your hand and kiss your forehead when parting ways (unless you initiate a smooch on the lips, then he’s all for it)

Some part of him is always touching you

He does, however, get cuddly when he’s tired

The second you two are alone in the comfort of his (or your) bedroom?

He’s eyeing your every move until you realize he wants attention

Likes being the big spoon or having your head on his chest

He likes when you lay on him because the weight makes him feel grounded

Always wants to play with your hair but he gets nervous :C

Will never admit it but his favorite thing is seeing you get along with his mom and brother

Especially his mom bc he knows it’s hard not always having both of your kids in your house

Gentle kisses!!!

The kind the has him fidgeting and getting all shy

He’s very iffy about making out…he just gets too nervous and shaky :D

Bought earbuds just to share with you!!

As I said, he’s very big about the little things, he notices everything

But thinking logically is hard for him when it comes to you

You forget to kiss him before class or when he leaves for practice a few times? He notices it

He won’t tell you he’s worried though, you’ll have to force it out of him

Loves loves loves listening to you talk

He won’t sleep without a proper goodnight text from you

He doesn’t try to control who you talk to because he trusts you, but he will try to keep you away from the team at first (assuming you’re not a manager) because they will tease him

Tsuki teases a lot but he’s actually quite sweet

He loves you >:O

#mick talks #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #hq tsukishima #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x you

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

Text

Broken Heart Mender

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: After hearing Tim tell Angela why he's not in a relationship with you, you pull away and make yourself sick with a broken heart. After too long without hearing from you, Tim finds you and promises to make everything better.

Warnings: reader gets sick (vomiting, headache, losing weight, crying), slight miscommunication, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

“You know, you’re here a lot for someone who doesn’t work here,” Smitty points out.

“And you’re here a lot for someone who doesn’t work at all,” you argue playfully.

“She’s got a point,” Tim adds, shrugging at Smitty’s offended look.

You smile at Tim as you walk out, needing to return to your own station after spending too long on paperwork (to visit Tim). He’s been your friend since you were a rookie, and now he’s so much more.

You and Tim are safe places for one another; whenever one needs it, the other becomes an unlicensed therapist, a no-strings-attached hugger or cuddler on bad days, and a good listener, no matter the time or problem. Part of why you’re so willing to do such things for Tim is because you have feelings for him, a long-harbored crush that grows each time he’s kind to you or asks for your advice.

Tim, however, will happily listen to your problems and provide a shoulder to cry on, but he prefers to show his care by being what some (Angela) might call a ‘protective menace.’ He’s had feelings for you for as long as he can remember and shows it by staying close and keeping you out of harm’s way.

Whenever you run into each other at work, you find a way to stay together, and while Tim protects you, you try your hardest to make him smile. You like doing small things for him to make him happy because he deserves it. Likewise, he stays close because you deserve more than anyone can ever give you.

The only problem is that you’re both scared to let your feelings show, so you disguise it as friendship, a special bond that no one can break. Only a few people, those willing to look, can see that there’s more to your actions and words than a time-tested and bulletproof friendship.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim sighs when he sees Angela sitting at his desk.

“Don’t you have work to do?” he asks.

“You have questions to answer,” she replies, moving out of his seat and blocking the door. “I want to know about you and your friend.”

Tim rolls his eyes at her tone and air quotes. She has asked him about you before, but she’s relentless.

“Why aren’t you in a real relationship? Why haven’t you asked her out?” Angela inquires.

“Not your business, Lopez,” Tim answers.

✯✯✯✯✯

You slow as you near Tim’s office, his voice and Angela’s drawing your attention as your smile drops.

“Just tell me why you won’t let her in that last little bit,” Angela demands.

“Not that it is any of your concern, but we won’t work. We’re not made for each other, we’re not soulmates, and we will not be good for each other, not like that,” Tim snaps.

Swallowing, you feel like your heart physically drops into your stomach, making you nauseous as you fight tears. You leave before Tim or Angela notice you’re outside, unwilling to see Tim after learning how he feels.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What does that mean, Timothy?” Angela asks, quieter as she digs for the real reason.

Tim shakes his head, not ready to admit that he doesn’t consider himself relationship material. Regardless, you deserve someone better than him, though he has never considered it the other way around: you are too good for him and always have been.

“You’re right, it’s not my business. But it is hers,” Angela reminds him before leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Distancing yourself from Tim is hard, but after his comments to Angela, it’s what you have to do. Tim doesn’t have feelings for you and thinks you aren’t good enough, which hurts. More than your feelings, you are mentally distraught. Your emotions are all over the place, swinging aimlessly from anger to denial to an overwhelming sadness that makes it impossible to do anything but cry.

After a long night of fighting with your emotions, you try to eat breakfast and realize that the hurt is physical, too. Rushing to the bathroom, you empty your stomach before moving to the floor as your tears continue. Losing Tim is the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, and this is only the beginning.

The alarm on your phone goes off, and you pull yourself off the bathroom floor and get ready, ignoring the pain building behind your eyes and the churning sensation in the pit of your stomach. It will be a long day, but if you can power through, you will take some time off next week.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is neck-deep in paperwork for a Metro case, but every spare second he has is spent calling and texting you. You don’t answer, and Tim can't do anything as his worry increases. He realizes Angela was right, and you deserve to know how he feels and why he keeps you so close, yet not close enough.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the day, you haven’t been able to keep a single thing down, and you’re not sure if the emotional or physical pain is worse. Collapsing onto your couch, you let the tears begin anew as your week of PTO begins and your life as you know it ends.

Each day seems worse than the last, as you get sicker and sadder with each passing moment. When you summon the courage to step on the scale on Sunday morning, just three days after hearing Tim’s comments, you’ve lost a concerning amount of weight. You know it’s dangerous, but between the constant crying and the anxiety and sadness eating at you, there isn’t much you can do. There isn’t much you want to do except find a way to make yourself good enough for Tim Bradford.

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s been days since Tim heard from you, and he’s worried. When Mid-Wilshire gets called to assist your station, he hopes to see you. Tim searches the crowd of blue until he finds your partner.

“Bradford,” your partner greets.

Tim asks where you are, curious as to why you aren’t together, and your partner explains that you’ve been off work since Saturday, sick with something.

“Do you know if she’s okay?” Tim asks.

“All I know is it has to be bad for her to take this much time off,” your partner explains with an apologetic shrug before being called away.

Tim’s protectiveness kicks into overdrive, his worry keeping him from being able to focus on anything else. He finds his captain and tells him what's going on before asking if he can go check on you.

As he drives to your apartment, Tim hopes it’s not as bad as it sounds while beating himself up for not coming to visit you sooner. The ignored calls should have been a sign that something was wrong, but he let work get in the way. Though you aren’t there to hear it, Tim promises he will never neglect you again.

✯✯✯✯✯

It takes a minute to realize that the pounding sound is someone knocking and not an effect of your headache. Stumbling to the door, you answer it without checking who it is. When you see Tim’s face, you try to close the door, but you’re too weak, and Tim is too quick.

He rushes inside, looking at your pale face, unruly hair, and how your clothes hang off of you: an indicator you're unhealthily losing weight. It’s enough to push his protective side to action even as he fears the worst.

“You should go,” you tell him.

Tim ignores you, walking to your kitchen and setting water on the oven to boil. While he waits, Tim straightens up your apartment, moving quickly from room to room. He hasn’t spoken to you yet, and as you watch him, your emotions take over again.

With a few tears running down your face, you raise your voice and say his name. “You need to go.”

“No,” he answers simply. “You need help, you’re obviously sick and you’re not answering my calls.”

Tim's presence and how he acts like nothing has changed, and he’s still the protective friend he pretends to be, hurts you.

“Tim, get out!” you demand.

“Let me help,” he argues.

Shaking your head, you walk to your room and close the door, curling around your pillow as you cry. Each noise Tim makes in the kitchen feels like he’s laughing at you, and you don’t know how much more of this you can take.

He lets himself into your room after knocking, setting a mug of tea beside your bed, and rubbing your back. He notices how you stiffen but thinks it’s because you’re sick.

“What do you want to eat?” he asks.

“I want you to go.”

Tim nods, more to himself than you, and walks out of your bedroom.

You hear the door close behind him and roll over, unable to decide if you want to drink the tea or throw it at the wall.

✯✯✯✯✯

The following morning, you wake, and the first thing you remember is Tim leaving yesterday. Yes, you asked him to, but it still hurts. The cold mug beside your bed is a cruel reminder of everything you’ve lost. Rolling out of bed, you reach for the water on the nightstand. After the first drink, you race for the bathroom, wondering how long it takes for a broken heart to heal.

Someone pulls your hair out of your face, a kind hand pressed to your back as you cry. When you feel able, you lean back against the tub behind you. Tim moves back, wetting a washcloth before he kneels beside you. As he wipes your face and neck with the cool rag, you wonder what he’d do if you gave him an out.

“I heard what you said,” you admit quietly. “That we wouldn’t be good together.”

Tim slows his movements as he listens to you.

“It hurt.”

Fresh tears break over your waterline, tracking down your cheeks. Tim realizes that he’s the reason you feel so bad; that one comment made to protect his feelings, to hide them, made you feel so bad that you’re now physically sick.

“Hey,” he begins, moving to sit before you when you turn away. “Listen, I know you don’t want to believe me, but I only said that to get Angela to leave me alone, to protect myself. I don’t think that.”

“But you said it,” you point out tearily.

“I know, and I’m sorry. The truth is we wouldn’t be good together, but not because of you, never because of you. It’s me; I am not made for relationships and I’m not good enough for you.”

You choke on a sob, leaning toward Tim. He extends his arm, letting you move against his side.

“Since we met, I’ve wanted more,” he whispers against your hair. “But I was scared you’d realize I’m broken and leave… like everyone else.”

Shaking harder against his side, you cling to him as all your emotions mix. There is a chance this is a dream, but if you have to lose Tim, this seems like the best way to say goodbye.

“C’mon,” Tim urges gently, pulling you with him as he stands.

With a gentle hand on your back and one on your shoulder, Tim leads you to the couch. Covering you with a blanket, he promises to come right back. When he returns with a glass of water and a pack of crackers, you turn toward him.

“Are you going to leave?” you whisper.

Tim shakes his head. “Never.”

Nodding, you accept the crackers. After you eat a few and drink half the water Tim gave you, you sit back.

“I cleaned your apartment last night,” Tim tells you. “You want to change and clean up?”

You take a deep breath, and Tim senses your apprehension before adding, “I’ll help you.”

Taking Tim’s hand, you follow him back into your bedroom. After you change into the clothes he hands you, you sit on the bathroom vanity and let him wash your face and secure your hair.

“When’s the last time you ate? More than a few bites, I mean,” Tim asks, laying a hand on your thigh.

You shrug before admitting, “Last Wednesday.”

Tim’s jaw clenches, but he hides it with a quick nod. “I’m going to make you some more food. I know you probably don’t want to eat, and you don’t have to eat much, but you need something.”

Moving your hand onto Tim’s, you interlace your fingers with his. He leans in, releasing a chuckle when you throw your arms around his neck. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you to the edge of the vanity.

“I missed you,” you whisper in his ear.

“I missed you too,” he responds.

✯✯✯✯✯

As you dry the ends of your hair while you exit the bathroom, you feel like a new person.

“We need to talk,” Tim says when he sees you. Your smile falls, and Tim takes your hand. “Not like that,” he promises.

“Like what?” you ask, curling your legs under you as you sit beside him.

“I meant what I said, but I need to make sure you know that. I have feelings for you, I have for a long time, I’m just terrified to show them because I’m not good enough for you.”

Boldly, you press your finger to his lips to stop him. He raises his brows at your movement, smiling with you.

“Yes, you are. You’re more than good enough. That’s why I fell in love with you.”

Tim pulls your hand away from his face, kissing your finger as he does so. “Even though I broke your heart and made you sick?”

“Broken heart sickness is curable, and you’re a pretty good doctor,” you tease, leaning toward him.

“I promise to make it better, and never do it again.”

You nod, trusting him entirely. Now that you’ve had a shower and heard that Tim feels the same, your stomach growls.

“It’s working already,” Tim says.

“I’m hungry again,” you marvel, smiling at Tim.

“I’ll offer a trade,” Tim begins. “A home-cooked meal for you, and a kiss for me.”

You nod, but Tim adds, “And I promise never to lie to protect myself again. I’ll tell you exactly how I feel, as long as you do the same.”

“I feel like I love you, Tim Bradford,” you reply, pulling him in for the promised kiss.

Your kiss is better than he expected, and Tim loses himself in the feeling of you until your stomach growls again, and you laugh against his lips. Tim broke your heart, but he put it back together with a piece of his; the best-broken-heart-mender in the world was by your side all along.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader

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python333 · 1 year ago

Note

your writing is literally the best in the cod fandom. we need more injured reader angst. it's too good

don't breathe — python333

— — — —

synopsis [reader] gets buried alive after refusing to give intel to enemy soldiers and *slips up and writes reader almost dying again* oops how did that happen haha

relationships platonic!price & gn!reader.

characters cap. john price.

word count 2.7k

warnings suffocation [reader], just generally really depressing thoughts, near death??, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note aww tysm :(( dont say its the best im gonna get a complex LMAO but i appreciate it!! and yes i agree injured reader angst ftw :3 i present to you: reader gets very injured and theres a lot of angst and its basically just you suffering for a good 3/4 of the fic while the last quarter has the actual comfort!

“Hello?” You try again, your voice cracking and your tone as desperate as it can get, “Please, God, say someone can hear me.”

You’ve been trapped in a casket for about five minutes now—at least, you woke up five minutes ago. God knows how long you’ve been stuck in the stupid thing, but realistically, it’s probably been much longer than five minutes.

The last thing you remember from before you were buried is being in the interrogation room of some small terrorist group’s facility, one you and the others were led to believe was abandoned weeks ago.

Unfortunately, whoever gave you the information must’ve either had incredibly outdated information or was setting you all up for failure, because the facility was very much not abandoned and was instead full of enemy soldiers.

You all had already gotten into the building before you knew that, because of course you all had to be in the same spot at the same time—practically sitting ducks for the enemy—and of course you all had to be clueless about the possibly hundreds of people in the facility until it was too late.

As far as you know, everyone managed to escape. Everyone but you. They didn’t mean to leave you behind, of course they didn’t, they were more focused on just booking it out of the facility. However, because of that, you were now stuck—you assume—several feet underground in a casket that has a limited amount of oxygen that drops every time you take a breath.

You let out the breath you’re currently holding and suck in another deep breath, holding it as you think. Your strategy of holding your breath until you no longer could mostly worked, but it wouldn’t for long, you knew that soon you’d suffocate in all of the carbon dioxide gathering in the enclosed casket.

You don’t know how long you’d been unconscious in the casket, breathing in oxygen carelessly in your slumber, which made the whole situation worse. You didn’t even know how much time you had left.

You hate to waste your breath checking your comms, but the enemy soldiers had accidentally left your earpiece in your ear—the small device apparently going undetected under their radar—and you wanted to make the most of it. You move your arm from your side and press onto the PTT button on your earpiece, wincing a little at how cramped the casket was.

“Does anybody copy?” You ask again, staring up at the almost pitch black space above you, “I repeat, does anybody copy?”

It’s a vain attempt at contacting your team, really. You don’t know if they’re thinking about you, if the signal is going through, if they even have their earpieces on—you know nothing, and that terrifies you because you really don’t want to die right now but there’s literally nothing else you can do besides helplessly talk into your earpiece, not knowing if anyone’s listening.

Your lungs start to burn and you let out the breath you were holding, taking another deep breath and beginning to hold that one. The air feels… thick. It’s starting to get harder to breathe, and you know you shouldn’t panic but you can’t help the few worried thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind.

What am I going to do when I run out of oxygen and the only thing left for me to breathe in are my own discarded breaths? What will I do when all there is to do is suffocate? Am I going to try, in one last desperate attempt, to break out of the casket, or am I going to just lay here and die? Will my team try to find me, or will they forget about me? Have they already forgotten about me?

Before you can listen to any more of those depressing thoughts, a voice comes from your earpiece.

“H—lo? [c/n]?” It’s hard to tell with the static and the cuts in between the words, but you think it’s Price talking.

“Price?” You ask immediately, all thoughts of preserving your breath forgotten. “Holy shit, you can hear me?”

“Je—s— whe—e—” He cuts out for a moment and your stomach drops when all you can hear is static for a moment.

“You’re— You’re cutting out, Captain, what did you say?”

“Wher— —re you?” It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying, your mind working much slower than it usually does, but once you do you shake your head negatively despite him not being there to see you.

“I don’t— I don’t know,” You respond, taking a deep breath before adding on, “I think I’m underground, I just know I’m in a casket and it’s getting harder to breathe and—”

“Okay, o—y,” You hear Price’s voice crackle, his voice becoming more distant and sounding almost muffled to you, “Sa— —ur bre—th, I’ll try to g—t some—e to track your— —tion.”

With the constant cutting out of his words and the distortion of his tone, you can barely register or process what he’s saying, and that only panics you more but you refuse to let your emotions get the better of you even in the state of disorientation you’re in, so you keep holding your breath.

A minute later, Price’s voice crackles through your earpiece again.

“Okay, we’ve got your loc—tion,” Price’s voice sounds… oddly far away, “We can—”

His voice slowly becomes muffled, and you release the breath you were holding without realizing it, slowly blinking up at the ceiling of the casket. A sort of haze falls over your mind and you can barely even hear Price anymore before you suddenly snap back to reality and hear his now much clearer voice loud in your ear.

“[c/n]? [c/n], are you still there?” You recognize his tone now, and you’re just a little shocked at the sheer amount of worry in it.

“Haven’t moved an inch,” You breathe out, before lying, “You cut out for a second for me, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, “I said we got your loc—tion and we’re hea—g out th— —w. It’s not t— far away from where —e alre—dy are, we’re ba—ely three clicks away.”

“… Clicks?” You ask, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Yes, clicks,” Price replies, sounding concerned, before hesitantly asking, “… You know what those are, right?”

“I don’t—” You struggle to find words for a moment before you speak again, your own voice starting to sound distant, “I don’t think so?”

“What do y—u mean you don’t thi— —o?” Price asks, his voice sounding freakishly close, “Are you okay?”

“No, yeah, I’m fine,” You lie through your teeth, not wanting to worry Price further, “I just… how far away are you?”

“Just ab—t two cli—ks now,” Price says, before pausing and clarifying, “Two kilometers.”

Two kilometers… how far is that? “And that’s… is that far, or?”

“No, it’s not too far. It’s just a mi—te away, we didn’t ge— —o far before Laswell got your loc—tion,” Price tells you, “We’ll be there soon, ok—y? We’ll get y— —ut of there.”

“A minute—” You cough and feel tears pricking at your eyes from how hard it is to take another breath, “A minute?”

“Yes, a minute— [c/n], are you okay?” Price asks again, before laughing nervously, “You know what a minute is, do— —ou?”

“...” You struggle to answer the question, thinking long and hard for a few seconds before hesitantly answering, “… Yeah, I do, sorry. It’s sixty seconds.”

“Why’d it take you so long to answer?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, I—” You take a few shallow breaths, and feel a headache start to build up, “How far away are you guys?”

“We’re alm—t there,” Price promises you, “The heli’s ab—t to l—nd, and we’ll dig you up, and—”

Why is it so cold? Price’s voice cuts off and when he stops talking you realize that you’re shivering. You ball your fists up and can’t even feel your nails digging into your palms, your hands having gone numb from the cold, and realizing that makes you discover that your lips feel numb too.

Your ears start to ring and you feel that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in your hands, the sensation slowly traveling up your arms, making you both wanting to peel off your own skin and also grateful that you can at least feel something besides the cold.

In the midst of your thinking, you hear muffled thumping coming from above you—whoever buried you couldn’t have buried you anything below six feet.

“—llo? [c/n]? Are you still there?”

You bring your hand up, the movement slow and sluggish, and you try to search around the side of your face for your earpiece. You eventually find it and when you do you press against it until you feel the PTT button being pushed.

“Still here,” You confirm breathlessly, coughing again as you take a few more shallow breaths, “I think I’m running out of— of… what’s the fuckin’ air that you can breath in, it starts with an o…”

“… Oxygen?”

“Oxygen, yeah,” You slowly blink up at the ceiling of the casket, “There’s— I think— I don’t… I think… I think I’m gonna pass out, Captain.”

“[c/n], don’t you fucking dare,” Price growls, “You stay awake, I swear to fucking god.”

“I can’t—” You take a few more shallow breaths, before coughing, the tears escaping your eyes reaching the corners of your mouth.

You can hear Price briefly talk with someone else, his voice the most serious you’ve ever heard it, before he talks directly to you again, “How much longer do you think you have before you run out of oxygen?”

It takes you a moment to register the question, but when you do, you answer, “Uh… I don’t— I think… maybe a few more minutes? I can’t tell, it’s just hard to breathe, I can’t…”

“Okay, okay,” Price softly says, gusts of wind blowing into his mic as he talks, “Give me a second, okay? We’re almost there, kid, we’ll— we’ll be there in just a minute, we just passed over you, I just need you to stay awake.”

“In a minute,” You repeat to yourself, before taking a deep breath, hoping that you have enough oxygen to make it out of this casket because you really don’t want to die here, not when there’s help just a minute away.

After what you assume is a minute or two, instead of thumping, you hear something cut into the dirt above you. The sound, however, is heavily muffled, so muffled to the point where you don’t know if you’re hallucinating or not.

Is that a symptom of CO2 poisoning? Hallucinations? You lay still in the casket and can’t help but release the breath you’d only just taken, the ringing in your ears starting up again and growing louder faster than they had before.

Your entire body is numb, your chest is heavy, and you can feel a sort of fog fall over your mind. You can distantly hear Price yelling through your earpiece, but you can’t find it in yourself to respond, instead simply laying there, your blinking starting to slow down before it eventually stops, leaving your eyes closed.

—

For a moment, you think you died and went to heaven, which would be weird, considering all the things you’ve done in your life. Not saying you’d go to hell, just saying God would probably hesitate for a second before letting you in through the pearly gates.

You blink awake, slowly but surely, and the first thing you realize is that you can feel things again. You tilt your head down to the bump under the white bed sheets laid on top of you, and squeeze your hand into a ball, watching the bump move and feeling your fingers dig into your oddly sore palms.

You let out a sigh of relief and pull your hand out from the sheets, bringing it up to your face and feeling the oxygen mask that’s been placed over your mouth and nose.

“Don’t mess with that,” You hear a voice say to your right. You turn your head and see a very tired Captain Price, dark eyebags hanging under his eyes and arms crossed, his hands having a white knuckle grip on either one of his elbows.

“…” You don’t say anything, instead you simply stare at him until he sighs and gets up from his seat. You watch silently as he leans over your bed and bends down, before pausing, and then quickly snaking his hands under your back to pull you up just enough for him to properly hug you.

You reach up with shaky hands and tentatively hug him back, not nearly as tightly—not that you don’t want to, but you physically can’t with how weak your arms are right now—but with just as much sincere affection. You can feel Price’s beard rubbing against your neck and hear his small sniffles as he embraces you tightly.

Maybe it’s his sniffling, or the way you can finally feel warmth for the first time in what feels like forever, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s holding you with so much care and affection that it almost makes you burst at the seams, whatever it is, it causes you to tear up as well.

Those tears quickly become sobs that bubble up in your throat and crawl their way out of it, forcing you to tuck your head into the crook of Price’s neck and muffle your sobs in it, muttering a small ‘sorry’ after each one.

After each ‘sorry’, Price responds with, “It’s okay, let it out, sweetheart, you’re okay,” and those reassuring words only make you cry more because God, you didn’t even think he’d find you, yet here he is, letting you cry into his neck and is reassuring you after every apology that it’s okay.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” You mumble a litany of apologies into Price’s neck, your breath stuttering and hitching as you try to hold back your sobs. Price only shushes you and rubs his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture, bringing his head up to kiss the top of your head.

He tucks your head under his chin, “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And fuck, you know it’s just words, but it only makes you cry more.

Your sobs eventually stop, leaving you hiccuping against Price’s neck, silently crying as he continues to rub your back.

“I thought you died,” He whispers, his hand stuttering on your back, “I thought you died and I was going to dig up your dead body, when you didn’t answer me.”

You stay silent, letting him continue, “I thought you were dead when we dug you up and needed to feel your heartbeat for myself to confirm that you were still alive.”

He pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been here ever since they put you in here. I haven’t slept, I’ve just stayed here, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you that I—”

He chokes up for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I’m sorry for not even thinking to drag you out of the facility with me when we all ran out. You were— you were right there, and I couldn’t just grab your arm and take you with me, I just had to leave you behind and I—”

“You watched me while I was asleep?” You ask quietly, your eyebrows drawing together.

Price pauses and pulls his chin off of your head, and pulls you away from his neck so he can properly give you the most incredulous look he can pull, before saying, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and apologizing for practically leaving you for dead, and that’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, I’m not worried, I’m just—” You shrug, not knowing how to explain it. Price sighs and chuckles quietly before tucking your head back under his chin.

“You’re insufferable,” He mumbles, sniffling a bit.

“… I forgive you, by the way,” You say after a moment of silence, “I didn’t really blame you in the first place.”

“You had the right to.”

“Sure I did.”

“But you didn’t blame me.”

“Right.” “…” Price stays silent for a moment before pressing another soft kiss to the top of your head and saying quietly, “You should blame me.”

“Maybe,” You mumble back, “But I won’t.”

Later, maybe an hour later, if the others see you asleep in Price’s arms while he keeps your head tucked under his chin and rubs your back affectionately—no they don’t.

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romana-after-dark · 1 year ago

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Dead Dove December 2023 Masterlist

Hello everyone!

So sorry it took forever to get this out, but it took me 5ever to read through these fics bc I was expresso depresso and working a lot LMFAOOOOOOO

Anyway, THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE ENTRIES!!! I adore you so so so so much. I am SO HAPPY with how this worked out and the amount of response! I hope to hold another event this March with @for-a-longlongtime at @triplefrontier-anniversary for the TF anniversary over at my main account @romanarose, and an event in June for pride, so if those interest you, follow my main page or this one, or @romana-updates

NOTE: I was unorganized so if I forgot someone's fic, IT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE. I know right now there discourse right now the Pedro fandom specifically, about different people not liking others or small writers or big writers ETC, but I want you to know no one was left out on purpose!

Note 2: If I put your fic here but forgot to reblog LET ME KNOW! I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to shine.

Without further ado, the fics and art!

ALL OF THESE ARE DARK SO SOME DEGREE FROM CNC, DUB CON, TO VIOLENT NON CON! HEAD WARNINGS!

The Last of Us

The Burglary by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy: Two men break into your house and take more than just your valuables.

Fight Club by @anama-cara : Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way.

Deja Vu by @milla-frenchy : After a bad experience with a former boyfriend, you meet Joel who makes you trust him fully in the bedroom

Silent Night by @kewwrites : Despite the way he always acted around you, you find it hard to say no to Sarah when she invites you home to her dad's house for the holidays. Surely nothing would happen while she's with you.

Training Day by @koshkamartell : Set in AU, no outbreak. You get more than you bargained for after trying to make Joel jealous.

Code Broken by @auteurdelabre : You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

The Art of Breaking by @corazondebeskar-reads : Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

Cry Harder by @romana-after-dark : While keeping you captive, Joel's sex drive is insatiable, and the sex seemed to be never ending. You tried to warm him you needed to use the bathroom... he didn't listen.

Nightmare Before Christmas by @katiexpunk : As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked. Most of the time. Tonight is not one of those times.

Locket by @toxicanonymity : Dark!Reader dugs her friends hot dad Joel

Run, Rabbit by @justagalwhowrites : It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and they're not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

Godless by @javier-penas-wifexx420 : You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

Across the Spiderverse

After Dark by @runa-falls : He wants you. and he knows you need him.

Triple Frontier

Deep Seeded Issues by @djarinmuse: Summary: At an N.A (narcotics anonymous) meeting you recall a dark and embarrassing memory, not knowing the connection in the room.

My Blood Would Teach Me How to Love by @winniethewife : Santi finds you self harming, blood kink ensues.

Room's on Fire by @romana-after-dark : Cult AU, Pope, Frankie, Will and Ben are cult leaders and need a virgin to breed who will birth the savior: the Madonna. Initially honored to find redemption, the Madonna has to learn how to navigate all four men and a circle of other people at the house.

Goodnight, Princess by @melodygatesauthor : Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

The Card Counter

Bad Bet by @boredzillenial and art by @lunar-ghoulie4art : William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

Getting Whats Mine by @winniethewife

Lightening Face

Puppy by @darkuselesssomebody : In which the reader is a manipulative bitch - and basil snaps because of it

Mojave

Cruel Intentions by @hon3yboy : You're on a soul seeking journey, just another young, pretty, thing. All alone and stranded in the desert, ripe for the picking and ol' Jack has his eyes set on you.

Moon Kight

Death to Dignity by @juneknight : An intruder (Marc) breaks in to your apartment.

*************

I cannot thank you enough for your support and interaction for htis series!!!!! I had SUCH a good time reading all these, you are all so talented!!!

I hope to do more events soon as it's really helped me make some friends and get to know people here!!!!

Please remember to reblog these authors, and if you're tagged here, be sure to check out more! Lots of great content here!

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heavenlyraindrops · 8 months ago

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♱Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Twenty Five♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Twenty Five Warnings: profanity, sexual content, oral (f receiving), blowjobs, p in v sex, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, creampie, almost getting caught (? Idk) Visit the first tag on this post to see all other chapters.

♱ In which the purest soul in Heaven falls from grace… for the Devil. ♱

[Chapter Twenty Five]

Charlie stumbled over to where Alastor lay motionless. Blood dripped from his nose, down his chin and trickled down his neck, and his only newly repaired cane lay bent and sparking. A small buzzing sound emanated from it, and when she leaned closer she realized it was a voice.

More specifically, Lucifer’s voice.

“I don’t care- lives or dies. I don’t care at all…It’s- fault she’s ended up-…to save her? Are you- Just leave her for the Vees.”

It was cracked and broken, but it was him. She turned around to see him carrying your limp body in his arms, with such tenderness that made her eyes well.

“Dad.”

He looked up. She pointed at the cane.

“Did you say any of this?”

His brow furrowed as he listened, then his face slowly darkened as he pieced two and two together. Vaggie came up behind the three of you.

“Maybe you and [name] should go inside,” she suggested to Lucifer, glancing at the way he looked at you and smiling. “We’ll worry about Alastor.”

He cleared his throat disconcertedly and nodded. “Right.”

He entered the building, still cradling you in his arms. Charlie and Vaggie both turned to each other, and their jaws dropped open.

“Ohmygoshdidyouseethat?!” Charlie practically squealed, gripping Vaggie’s arms. Vaggie nodded, eyes wide, and they both stared after the closed door which you and Lucifer had just gone through.

“I have so many questions.”

“Me too.”

You groaned, wings fluttering as you stirred. Bedsheets shifted beneath your hands. You shakily sat up, blearily blinking away the last traces of sleep as you took in your surroundings.

There was a yellow sticky note on the bedside cabinet. You pulled it away from the wood and read it.

We can talk when you’re ready. There’s a lot to discuss! You can take a bath in the en suite. We washed your clothes for you.

-Charlie :)

You frowned, swinging your legs around the edge of the bed and standing up. The plush carpet sank down slightly beneath your feet.

What happened?

You looked down. You were wearing a slip and some shorts- fresh. Who changed you?

The clothes mentioned in the note were folded in a neat pile next to the sticky note, along with a towel. You padded into the bathroom, switching on the tap in the bathtub and holding your hand underneath the steady stream of water. It was the perfect temperature.

Your clothes slid to the floor, and you stepped inside. Sliding inside the hot water, you combed through the feathers on your wings, a weak attempt to preen them.

A knock sounded on the doors, and you heard a muffled call of your name. Footsteps sounded as someone moved around in the bedroom, and they knocked on the bathroom doors.

“[name]?” It was Charlie. “You in there?”

Your heartbeat quickened with apprehension, even more so at your lack of recollection of events. “Yeah,” you called out hoarsely.

“Are you… I mean, can I come in?”

“If you must,” you replied curtly, still on guard.

You pulled your wings around you protectively as she slowly opened the door, peeking in then quickly averting her eyes. “I- hi.”

“Hello.”

She smiled apologetically. “I was just wondering if you’re doing okay.”

You didn’t have a response to that. Your hands gripped the sides of the bathtub as you moved to stand up, and she flung her hands in front of her face. “O-oh, no, don’t get up-“

“Oh, right. Forgot.” Your wings fluttered slightly with the cool air that hit them before you sank back down. Charlie’s lips twisted into an awkward smile as she tentatively made her way to the bathtub, as you squirted shampoo into your open palm.

“Am I in the hotel?” You asked flatly, massaging the foam through your roots. She blinked.

“I mean- yeah. Don’t you remember anything?”

“No, not really. Just coming here to get Vox.” Your fingers combed through your hair slowly as you stared at her, waiting for her reaction. Her lips formed a small ‘o.’

“That explains a lot. Like why you’re so tense.” She instinctively leaned forward with eagerness to explain the situation to you, but you pulled away, pressing your back to the cold, wet, tiled wall. “You… had a little… uh, I don’t know how to explain it. But you transformed…” she waved her hands around vaguely. “And kind of lost control, so my dad kind of had toâ€¦ uh, what’s the word? I don’t know what to call it.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Charlie snapped her fingers. “He tried to calm you down!” You could tell by her awkward grin that those were not the right words to use.

“And? Let me guess, it didn’t work, and he had to knock me out-“

“Oh, no, it worked. You just passed out. Must have been exhaustion.” She rubbed the back of her neck, looking away. “We… talked. He told me… stuff… and I-“ she sighed. “It must have been rough for you these past few days- I mean, a lot must have happened. You must have had a lot of emotions to handle.” She offered a small smile. “But, you’re here now, so maybe we can all talk it out! I mean, now that you’re a bit more… stable.”

“Wow, thank you,” you said dryly. She cleared her throat.

“So, I’ll leave you to it.”

Her footsteps faded and the door shut. You shuddered, lowering your head back into the water. Your hair spread in the water, curling around like tendrils of smoke. You closed your eyes.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that until memories began to seep back. You opened your eyes. The water lapped at your skin with every slight movement. It had turned lukewarm with time. Your fingers had begun to prune.

You stepped out, beads of water rolling down your skin as you dried your hair and pulled on some proper clothes. You tugged a comb through your hair, hoping to undo the tangles, and a few knocks sounded on the door. You immediately knew it wasn’t Charlie-

Your heart leapt as you reached for the doorknob.

“Lucifer,” you breathed, not knowing what else to say. He looked at you, almost sick with nerves. Your eyes flew down to his rumpled shirt and disheveled hair. “…Hi.”

He stared at you, slightly flushed. “Hi.”

Your lips twisted into a bashful, awkward smile. He didn’t return it, instead stepping towards you, and this time you didn’t step away. He noticed, and suppressed an elated grin.

“Can we… talk?” He fiddled with his thumbs. “Properly this time. No…” he waved his hand. “Blowing up at each other or making accusations. Just. Talk.”

You smiled, eyes tired. “I’d like that.”

He let out a small, relieved chuckle, mostly at your expression. You patted the spot next to you on the bed. He sat down next to you, eyes falling to your lips, then flicking back up to meet your eyes.

“Firstly, I just wanted to start with-“ he ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Whatever Alastor showed you, or made you listen to- it wasn’t true. I mean, it wasn’t real. I never said any of that.” His hand inched towards yours. “He showed us a recording of your voice too, which is why I…” he trailed off and looked away.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, creeping your hand towards his too until your fingers were intertwined. “I didn’t-“ you sucked in a harsh breath. “I didn’t react well. It’s just… so many things were happening and I’d lost so much and the thought of you leaving too I-“ tears welled up in your eyes and your throat closed up, so you quickly looked away. “I should have thought more.”

Lucifer smoothed back your hair. “It’s fine, angel, it’s fine to feel.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. I will not cry again. He was wearing a soft smile. You wanted nothing more than to trace the curve of his lips with your own, to steal his breath away, but-

“I was worried too, you know,” he murmured, fingers still on your skin, now brushing your cheek. “You didn’t contact me for ages.” He let out a deep sigh. “You know I would have come to you when I’d heard you’d fallen sooner.”

You nodded wordlessly. You both fell silent, the only sound filling the room your breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, hyper aware of how close your faces were. His gaze softened.

“You don’t have to say that again, you know,” he chuckled. You bit your lip.

“What are we now?” You blurted, and immediately regretted it as you watched surprise register on his face. “I mean, I get it if you don’t- after everything, I mean it’s been so long so- and all the shit I’ve caused-“ your face turned hot as he placed his thumb on your lip, brushing ever so gently.

“Now why wouldn’t I want you anymore?” He asked, voice so quiet only you could have heard it.

“I-it would be understandable-“ you cut off with a sharp inhale as his thumb pressed down, parting your lips ever so slightly as he leaned forward, eyes falling closed.

You leaned into the kiss eagerly, his lips meeting yours with the desperation bottled up over the time you’d spent apart; his hands fell to your waist, drawing you closer to him as the kiss heated up. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, and you let out a small moan, giving him access.

But at the last second he pulled away, both of you fighting for air. You opened your mouth to say something but he dove back in again, crushing his mouth on yours, his passion tasting far sweeter than anything Heaven could have given you. You whimpered as you both fell back onto the bed, and then did he finally pull away again, panting, face breaking into a breathless smirk.

“You’re with me now, darling,” he murmured. You flushed as he began pressing feverish kisses to the corner of your mouth, trailing down to your jaw, neck then collarbone. “And I think we have some proper catching up to do, hmm? What do you think, angel?”

All you could do was let out a small moan of agreement as heat pooled in between your thighs, one of which he grabbed, hooking it around his waist as he pinned you down on the bed, before another sloppy kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

A lustful haze clouded your mind as he slowly rolled his hips against yours, sending a wave of pleasure into your core. “Fuck, I missed you,” he growled against your lips, moving back down to your neck to suckle and bite, leaving as many marks as he thought it would take to show you were his.

You gently pushed him away and he looked up at you. “Wait, we can’t… right now-“ you glanced to the door, and the lock clicked into place. Lucifer smirked at you. You shivered. “What about Alastor? What are we going to do about him?”

He scoffed. “Are you seriously talking about him right now?” You squeaked as something brushed your waist. His tail. Your face burned hotter than the sun. “If I remember correctly, you have a favour to return.”

“Do I?” You squeaked, as his tail wrapped itself around your waist. He grinned, running his tongue over his sharp teeth.

“Mhm,” he hummed, fingers tracing down the column of your throat, the dip of your collarbone, to the collar of your top, and tugged slightly. “This comes off.”

You scrambled to get it off, hands shaking, as he pulled away from you, then crawled back into his lap, palming the growing tent in his trousers. He flinched. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Returning the favour,” you replied with the most innocent look on your face that he almost came right then and there. “Like you told me too.”

He bit his lip feverishly as you pulled his length from his boxers, swiping your thumb over the tip. You looked him straight in the eyes as you gave it a few languid strokes, making him hiss.

“That’s not what I- you don’t need to-“ You pressed your finger to his lips, giving him a coy smile.

“I think I do.” You lowered yourself in between his legs. “It would be unfair, right?”

He nodded shakily, suppressing a whimper as you gave the head kitten licks, hand still gently on the base, before dragging your tongue along the erection. He let out a small moan and you grinned.

“Enjoying this?” You teased, tongue slowly tracing a vein. He flinched, breathing hard, as you kissed the tip, and let out another breathier moan as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock and slowly sinking down. You felt his hand tangle through your hair as you began bobbing up and down, his whimpers and groans slowly growing louder at your agonizing pace.

“Fuuuck… yeah,” he gasped, hips bucking up into your face. His head tipped back, chest heaving. “I think I’m gonna cum-“

You simply hummed in response, sending vibrations up his shaft, tipping him over the edge. His hand in your hair tightened, hips moving in tandem with your movements and fingers tangling through the strands as his hot load coated the inside of your mouth. You swallowed it down, gagging slightly as you pulled away, licking your lips. He stared at you.

“You swallowed.” His voice was barely a whisper.

You simply grinned in response, pushing yourself off of him. He crawled towards you, pinning you back down by the hips, his hands trailing down to your trousers, hooking around the waistband and tugging down. “Off,” he said, still dazed.

You pulled it off of your legs and threw it to the side, where it joined the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor. He grinned, rubbing the dark, damp patch visible on the crotch of your panties, making you whimper slightly. His expression darkened.

“You like what we did last time, right?” He hummed, lips brushing the lobe of your ear. You nodded feverishly, bucking your hips, grinding against his hand with a small moan of his name. He just chuckled in response, ducking down, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. His teeth sunk into the softness of your inner thigh, the pain and pleasure making you writhe as he licked the mark he’d left to soothe it.

His finger hooked around the waistband of your underwear, tugging it slightly as if he was testing it because the next second he tore it off of you. Your heat pulsed with excitement as he tossed the remaining fabric onto the floor, suckling at your inner thighs, lips trailing closer to your pussy.

“Where’d you even get black lace like that anyways, a newcomer in Hell?” He hummed. His eyes had turned blood red, and they were staring at you. You flinched, tipping your head back with a small groan as he kissed your clit.

“S-someone gave it to me,” you whimpered, mind flashing back to when Velvette had lent you new clothes to wear.

“Someone?” He chuckled, the deep sound vibrating against your core. You threw your hand over your mouth to stifle a particularly loud moan. “Not another man, I hope.”

You shook your head feverishly, screwing your eyes shut as he licked a long strip up your already soaked entrance, his long, long tongue hot on your skin. You let out another choked whimper as he pressed his thumb to your clit, breathing out slowly. “Good,” he murmured, then delved in.

You jolted, back arching and hips bucking as his tongue pushed its way into your folds, clutching at the bedsheets as you tried not to let out any lewd sounds, yet a few gasps and whimpers slipping past your lips as his tongue circled and flicked at your clit. “Oh, fuck, Lucifer-“

“Mhm?” He hummed, and the vibrations shook you harder this time, shockwaves into your whole body. “Tell me how good it feels, darling.”

“So good,” you gasped, vision blurring. “So so good…”

His tongue traced letters across your clit- was he writing his name? And you could feel tears form in your eyes as his fingers spread your folds as he pressed his face in between your thighs, lapping at you like a starved man. Your whole body shook.

Holy fuck.

“You taste so good,” he groaned, and the words almost tipped you over the edge.

“I think I’m gonna-“

“Go on, angel, you deserve it.” You could feel his smirk against your skin as you came, the orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your muscles numbed, legs shaking as he pulled away from your dripping cunt.

He crushed his mouth against yours again, knowing full well you could taste yourself on him. You tangled your fingers through his hair, whispering praises, begging him to fuck you, and it made his muscles tense with a need so intense he’d never felt before.

“I want you inside,” you whispered before nibbling at his earlobe, your hands trailing down his shoulders. You felt him tense underneath your palms, and he licked his lips before wiping his mouth.

“Yeah?” His voice was hoarse, eyes lidded with lust. You nodded, biting your lip as you looked at him with the most pleading expression you could muster.

You felt his cock, hard again, rubbing slickly against your cunt, and grinned through biting your lip. He let out a shaky breath, positioning himself against your entrance, and you tensed with anticipation.

He froze, seemingly thinking, then smirked. “Beg for it, then.”

You blinked, face burning. “Wh-what?”

He rolled his hips, rubbing up against you. His tip caught your clit and you whimpered. “Beg for it,” he repeated. “Show me just how much you want it.”

“You’re quite-“ you choked on your own words. “-You’re quite cocky, aren’t you?”

He tilted his head. “Sin of Pride, darling.” You hummed, trailing you hands down his arms, then back up to grip his shoulders and flipping him around. He blinked in surprise as you straddled his waist, grinning down at him.

“All that just so you don’t have to say a simple please?” He huffed, his voice dissipating into something shakier as you slowly dragged your cunt up his erection, slick with precum, and hummed.

Without any more words, you positioned yourself above him, slowly sinking down onto his cock. He hissed as you did so, hands finding their way to your hips, squeezing down on the soft flesh, fingers tracing circles into your skin as you rocked into him. He tipped his head back, stifling a groan as you set a rhythm, each rut of your hips into his sending pain sparking into your cunt.

“Fuck, this is annoying,” he hissed through gritted teeth, and you froze, looking up at him with questioning eyes. “H-having to be quiet,” he explained. His eyes shot to the door, and he rolled his hips against you, his cock hitting the perfect spot that made your head spin. You clamped your hand down over your mouth to muffle a moan. “See what I mean? Fuck, angel, when you move in with me we’re gonna be as loud as we fucking want, right?”

“Y-yeah,” you gasped with another thrust upwards from him, too cock-drunk to register the implications of his words. His grinned, his sharp teeth glinting.

“Good,” he hissed, thrusting again. You whimpered at the fiery throbbing sensation deep in between your legs, gripping his shoulders as his hands on your hips squeezed tighter, moving you up and down on his cock, slick with your arousal.

Someone knocked on the door.

You stared at him in horror, freezing, but he put a hand to his lips. “Who is it?” He called.

“Dad, it’s Charlie. Are you guys okay? It’s just been a while since you went in there.”

He smirked at the look on your face, languidly rolling his hips. The deep kiss of his cock in your walls made your eyes roll back, seeing stars. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

“Is [name] still in there?”

Where the fuck else would I be? You thought dully, but another thrust made you almost double over, panting hard as you dug into his shoulders. You stared at him, eyes pleading as you shook his head, but he just grinned.

“Yeah, she’s right here. We’re fine, right [name]?”

“Y-“ Another thrust, even deeper as he pressed you down against his crotch. You bit your lip, screwing your eyes shut and forcing down a moan. “Yeah,” you replied. Your voice was slightly hoarse.

There was silence on the other side for a few seconds. “Alright then! See you guys!” Charlie’s voice was as cheery as ever, before her footsteps faded away. You glared at Lucifer.

“Are you kidding me? That was so risky. What we got caught?”

He lifted you up slightly, guiding you on his cock, and you almost forgot your frustrations as the pleasure overtook you. “But we didn’t, did we? Relax, angel.” And you did, legs shaking as you resumed your pace.

“I think I’m gonna cum,” you mumbled feverishly. He let out a breathless, exilarated laugh, accompanied by a particularly brutal thrust. Your vision glazed over.

“Fuck, me too,” he gasped, fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave marks.

You bent down, crashing your lips onto his, kissing him with fervour before you pulled away by a centimetre, whispering against his lips. “Cum in me, Lucifer.”

And he did, inside you, coating your walls with his hot cum. You jolted, your own orgasm crashing around you in waves, legs shaking with stimulation. You pulled away from him, quivering, his cum dripping down your thighs.

“So, are we…” he paused, trying to catch his breath. “Are we good now?”

You nodded, snuggling up to him and burying your face into the crook of his neck. He threw his arm around you. “Yeah,” you breathed, letting yourself smile softly. “Yeah, we are.”

a/n: lmk if you enjoyed! :3c

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sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now · 22 days ago

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The Process of the Voices designs (inspired by @everestgale )

(If you’re seeing this, it means that all of the voices have their own references!)

That was a big project

(Height lineup with current designs!!!!!)

(And apparently there was a limit to how many photos I can add per post on mobile so I had to work around the limit in order to be able to show you as much as possible. I’m sorry if the sketches have horrible quality ;^;)

Starting thought process

The first thing I had thought of when I had just stepped foot into the fandom space all the way back when the game was still new was to make each of the voices be represented by a different bird. I had never really drawn anything regarding to that idea, however.

But as Pristine Cut released, I had finally found the motivation to actually start designing the voices. Now the game is done, my thoughts process became “let’s just make the voices look vaguely bird-like without really basing them off of any bird type completely” to give myself a bit more freedom in designing them. Just a little leeway. TLQ is basically a mix between mammal and bird, so I thought I can probably continue this design aspect with the voices as well.

I had also challenged myself to not use any clothing items for any of the voices, cause TLQ isn’t really wearing anything in the first place, so I don’t really think the voices would spawn in with clothes already on their bodies.

With that said, let us continue to…

Terror and Longing (Paranoid and Cold)

Cold is the first ever one I had drawn, which is why he looked so “rough” and less shape like in my post for him. My thought process for him is pretty straightforward, and it’s just a reaper bird with a hole in his chest to symbolise the emptiness that can never be filled by normal means. His princess is a ghost, a lot of the chapter 3 routes that he’s in have princesses that are related to ghosts in some way, so to me it just makes sense for him to be a reaper. His body is basically just a big ol’ blanket. A cold one, but a blanket nonetheless. You can quite literally go inside him like he’s some sort of blanket tent.

Also I’m gonna semi-retcon the “Physical form gained with the leave ending” part of the notes. He and the rest of the voices already looks like this even before they gain their physical form, albeit much more shadowy and without actual line art.

Unlike most of the voice designs here, there really aren’t any visual elements that connects Paranoid and Cold together as parallels on how they view pain. Mainly because I mostly designed Paranoid solely on his overall “vibes” as a character. In my concept sketches, he looked more like a spindly exposed nerve noodle than how he is now. I do intend to give him a minor redesign in the future so that he could match better with Cold, however.

But in a way it kinda worked out for me, as Nightmare and Paranoid are basically just creepy delicate doll + goofy sock puppet, which is kind of funny to me

Now looking back, it would have been perfect to name the post as “Bones and Nerves” if I had decided to post them in paired at the very beginning.

Skepticism and Blind Devotion (Skeptic and Smitten)

(^^^Cloaked/Detective Skeptic design and Caged Head Skeptic design belongs to @/remaking-machine and @/bubblybloob respectively. Mainly drew them for inspiration and get my gears going)

When I had first sketched Smitten, I knew that I wanted him to have a big chest and to have an overwhelming presence, to show that Smitten thinks with his heart instead of actually seeing what’s in front of him (hence the small round puppy eyes that he closes most of the time). He’s delulu and I love him for that <3

But then a thought just came to me like “hey, wouldn’t it be really funny if his chest is like, 80% of his whole body?”, and so I listened because god damn it it’s so funny that I CAN-NOT NOT listen to that (and I was so delighted to see most of the tags were pointing out the size of his bosom. Funniest thing ever). Smitten is top-heavy, which kinda symbolise how Smitten is a pretty “head-in-the-clouds” sort of guy, where his heart/chest make him look like it’s gonna take flight with him, flying up like a balloon

(Unfortunately the ratio of his chest and body became a lot more balanced again the more I draw him, since I realised that it’s harder for me to draw his chest fluff consistently.)

As for Skeptic, I wanted him to parallel Smitten regarding their physical appearances. And hence, Skeptic has sharper, bigger eyes, smaller body with huge wings to cover himself up, which contrasts with Smitten’s round, smaller eyes, with a big body revealing his heart to the world and small wings to “guard” himself with. His big wings being a play on “the truth sets you free”, but it clearly becomes more of a burden as he continuously tries and push onward and makes things more complicated then it should be, like how he does in Cage. (Fun fact, the bigger the wings the harder it is to swim)

Originally I wanted Skeptic’s design to look like a blob of smoke/shadow with little to no clear defined features except for his face, or just a bunch of lines like those line creature thingies from the animated movie Soul, but it later didn’t really click for me when I compare him with the other designs I have made (it’s kinda boring looking), so I’ve made a slight redesign to give him a more defined body structure, since I don’t think he needs that shadowy unreadable body when he already has his big wings to protect himself with.

(You might not have noticed this, but Smitten and Skeptic are the only two that have their full bodies drawn in the same panel, while the rest of the pairs have them be separated in two different panels. I just decided to keep it that way, since I thought it was funny that these two have never met face to face with each other in game, but here they are the only ones drawn together)

Consumption and Betrayal (Hunted and Opportunist)

Ahhhh Oppy

I immediately knew what I wanted to do with this slimy bastard, and that is making him a fox.

Part of me really really really want to make him cat-themed so that not only does he match well with Witch, but to also hit the pun for “cat-fight” for the dance of infinite tricks between the two. But a fox fits him as well, as foxes and cats do not seem to like each other. Oppy still being a bird while making himself look like a stereotypical scheming predator also makes for good symbolism for how he hides his vulnerability behind his many masks. His creepy smile was inspired by how he looked in PatD while he was controlling TLQ’s body.

I also gave him a longer neck, so that he could look farther away. I just think a long neck fits him.

(He doesn’t tell anyone this, but he feels more comfortable walking on all fours. He’s just accustomed to walk on two legs to make himself look slightly bigger, since he’s already on the shorter/cuter side)

As for Hunted, my first thought for him is to make him big and nimble-looking, but I had decided that I’m gonna be the contrarian and go the other direction that isn’t my first thought, settling down with a smaller, cuter looking Hunted then what I had first envisioned, as you can see with the first paper sketches of him being a small little creature

I wanted him to scream “prey”, and to further contrast him with Beast, who became bigger than what she had started with. That’s a big part of why I had decided against the longer design despite a part of me really liking the idea.

(Since Hunted is not only a bird, but is also a rabbit and a rat thingy, in which all three are prey animals. Does that make him prey-squared)

Rivalry and Submission (Stubborn and Broken)

Stubborn’s design is pretty straight forward, as I’ve already have a clear image of what he looks like in my head. I was worried that he might look too human-like, but I guess my worries were all for nothing cause he turned out quite monstrous. Decided to make him have big arms to make him look even heavier and much more of a hard hitter.

His design was inspired by multiple things, being a demon, a dragon(both the demon and dragon part are here to tie his route with Adversary and to parallel Broken), a roaster and a bull, while also keeping the bird-like elements. Out of everyone, he was probably the hardest to draw on digital aside from Smitten when I had first started drawing them. I am not good at drawing big men.

The bull/horns part came later while I was creating my design for him, and you can see that I was trying to take inspiration from All Might of all people to give Stubborn those two little thingies on top of his head. I did not like the V shaped tuffs and settled for horns instead simply because it looks cooler. It then just created this demon-angel connection with Stubborn and Broken, and I liked it so much that I decided to just go with it

Broken’s design had actually evolved a long way from his first conceptualisation. Originally he was just a bunch of broken glass shards that vaguely forms into an image of a person. But then I realised it’ll be too hard to draw over and over, so I redesigned him into more of a sad lump instead. Really happy about my decision.

He’s mostly round in shape language until he decides to stand up straight, which makes him look more regal and “angelic”. His eyes and beak have that sharp edge to them to show that he still has the capacity to bite back if he wanted to. The crack on his eye was meant to make him look like he’s crying instead of a scar to be proud of like how Stubborn’s scar reads, making him a weeping angel.

(Looking back on it, he kinda look like a melted candle)

Pain and Unfamiliarity (Cheated and Contrarian)

Oooooh boy, I have a lot of things to say about these two

I have tired sketching Contrarian’s design out many many times, and many of them weren’t able to hit the exact spot(which is kind of ironic, cause it’s Contrarian that I was designing(he also deserved his own spread sheet of sketches, cause there was so so much of it))

These ideas include—making him the only one with white feathers, having an odd number of limbs, making him look like a twisting messy arrow, making him look like a Picasso art piece, taking annoying character design do-nots and then putting all of it onto his design just to be annoying(aka very crowded and unreadable designs where you don’t even know what you’re looking at anymore), making him into a regular bird simply because it would be really funny, giving him more then one singular head etc (also, that little Jester imp design I’ve drawn to de-stress was made by @/itsonlypolite . Thank you for the design absnsjaj)

It was until I had decided to take a break from designing him that I had finally figured out what I really wanted for him. I reminded myself that I wanted his design to be simplistic enough so that it would be easy to draw, so I had returned to the basics for him, which back then was just a simple fluffy bird noodle, and then things went a bit more smoothly after that.

I took inspiration from Discord’s design from MLP and made Contrarian have body parts that corresponds to the other voices. After all, what is a Contrarian without anyone to contrast with?

I also designed his head wings to give the illusion of a jester hat. Unlike the rest of the voices, he doesn’t have wings on his back, the one place that a pair of wings should be at anatomically speaking, simply because it would be funny. He does have a pair of wings on his butt though.

And the more I designed him, the more clear I was for the theming for Contra and Cheated, which is basically a Jester and the unfortunate person who got picked for the Jester’s practicing of magic tricks. And the person is just trying not to get hit by the throwing knifes.

As for Cheated, I also had trouble coming up with a design for him. Unlike Contrarian, whom I had too many ideas that I didn’t know where to go from there, he had way too little sketches and ideas. I already knew that I wanted him to look like he had been ripped apart to compliment Razor, but I had never tried to sketch him out until almost all of the other designs were complete. Then I had started to try and relate his character design with game elements, since both Contrarian and Cheated are basically meta for the player mentality, and I eventually came up with him having a Paper sort of texture. Not only does it relate back to paper cards, it also shows that he could never win against Razor, cause Scissors beat Paper no matter how you try (and Narrator is the Rock no one wants)

(That would make him and Razor’s ship name be PaperCut. That’s so cute actually)

At one point of the process, a part of me wanted him to look like a rabbit to fit the whole magic thing, but eventually decided against it due to not wanting him to overlap with Hunted, who already has a rabbit theme. So I’ve turned my attention elsewhere.

The inspiration for his design are mainly origami birds, since I wanted to give him an illusion that he was made out of paper cards to fit with the game theme. His silhouette, much like Contrarian, is not symmetrical at all. But instead of having the different parts be mashed together harmoniously in a weird way like Contrarian, his body is just a mess, with him sticking his body back into place over and over again. I’d imagine that his body was sewn together with paper with different textures(he gets even messier in Razor!!!).

With him being paper themed, it also gave me the opportunity to hide small jokes in his design and just go wild with the puns. A part of me felt like that would be a tad bit too cruel for him. He’s been through enough… but then again… paper puns. (Call me Razor cause I’m just having fun torturing him)

At the Heart of it all… (Narrator and Hero)

Hero is actually one of the easier ones for me to design, considering I’ve already decided that he is going to look the most human out of all of the other voices. I designed him with the image of a harpy and some of the fandom’s interpretation of TLQ at the back of my mind. Since I made these designs with the Pristine Cut being out, I had referenced his appearance from what the Pristine Cut trailer has shown of TLQ, which is a lot more human-like.

Hero is basically a smaller and less intimidating looking version of TLQ, since he is what TLQ wishes he was. A Hero. He’s probably what TLQ imagined himself to look like when he still didn’t know his own appearance, and imagined himself to look less intimidating, much like how the fandom in the early days imagined TLQ to be like before Pristine Cut. It’s a bit meta, but I think it works.

I had considered giving him a helmet, but then decided against it for two reasons:

One, I don’t want to break the rule that I had set for myself, which is to not give any of the voices clothing items(acceptable to give them the illusion of clothes, however)

And two, him not having the helmet, the symbol of knighthood and heroism, shows that he is unsure of his heroism, and is usually unsure of his decisions and what should be considered as “the right thing to do”

Narrator on the other hand look basically the same as the other interpretations of him. I had actually considered giving him an alternative design, where he is a well-dressed man with a crow mask covering his head, holding a scroll in his hand.

But I decided that the symbolic meaning of a mortal man losing all semblance of humanity after his death, and the gods he had trapped have become more human then he is much more fitting (and ironic). So now he’s just a bird with a scroll.

Author on the other hand, I decided to keep his head in the shadow and keep it as a vague silhouette, while the rest of his body is still somewhat visible. I designed a version where he’s got his face uncovered, but I later decided that it’s more fun with Author’s faces being inconsistent every time I draw him, mainly because Narry probably doesn’t even remember how he had looked like when he was still alive. These sketches are probably vague recollections of what Narry believed he looked like, so each of the faces look a little different from each other. He will be the only one without a solid reference.

I wanted Author to have tired sad-looking eyes, and so his eyes are one of the few consistent things about him. Aside from the eyes, his two hair tuffs and his glasses are still gonna be a part of his design, but will probably look slightly different every time his face was drawn. So there’s that.

Annnnnd that’s about it for my rambling! Thank you all for sticking around till the finishing of this project ^^ (and reading all of this till the end holy hell I’ve typed so much)

And oh boy this took me a while to make, I was literally making this post at the same time as I was drawing the references. It kinda made the journey a little less intimidating for me hehe

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geminiwritten · 2 months ago

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this means war ; bones

fandom: star trek

pairing: bones x reader

summary: based on this song but incredibly drawn out and long winded (you're reuniting with the enterprise crew for jim's birthday almost six months after leaving for a job at the academy because of a messy breakup)

notes: hey, i'm back! life has been super busy but i was listening to this song a few months ago and decided that i had to write something for it... and then a few months and thousands of words later... here you go! it is a little bit messy, but i can't not post it. let me know what you think! please!

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual references (i promise i am working on writing actual smut and not this fade to black crap), and lots of words i'm sorry if it sucks

word count: 10749 (i have no self control)

The birth date of James Tiberius Kirk is either a taboo subject not to be mentioned or alluded to for the entire month of March, or an intergalactic holiday that must be celebrated for a full two weeks straight. This year, it’s a celebration. The USS Enterprise is docked at Starbase Yorktown after doubling back due to an unfortunate encounter in unfriendly space, but not even a month's setback on the starship’s five-year journey could put a damper on her captain’s birthday. In fact, the party itself was arranged in all its grandeur after the unlucky incident, seeing that shore leave provided the perfect opportunity to drink and be merry in celebration of Jim’s ageing.

So it was your best friend’s birthday celebrations that finally dragged you out of your dark and comforting office at Starfleet Academy for the first time in four months, all the way to Starbase Yorktown. It was a long journey, which you were thankful for, because despite it being almost half of a year since you left your post on the USS Enterprise, you’re still not sure if you’re ready to face her crew again. Of course you miss them, they were your closest friends long before the Enterprise’s five-year assignment, but when Starfleet made you an offer you couldn’t refuse, well... you couldn’t refuse it. Or at least, that was the story you stuck to when your friends begged you to stay. It most definitely had absolutely nothing to do with a saga of heartbreak and animosity.

“Okay, breathe,” you tell your reflection, watching the colour in your cheeks deepen the more you reminisce. The black dress you’re wearing is perfectly complimentary, accentuating all the right parts and boosting your confidence just enough to get you out the door. The hallway wasn’t too difficult, but the elevator descent awakens the anxious butterflies in your stomach, and the hotel lobby has your heartrate rising with every click of your heels against the polished marble floor.

“This is ridiculous,” you sigh, earning a few odd glances from passersby as you exit the hotel’s main doors. The artificial air outside is warm and the sky mimics a pink and orange sunset that casts long shadows on the pavement. You watch your own move as you head toward the party venue; a Federation building purpose-built for conferences and training seminars that Jim had somehow convinced someone to let him use. You often forget how respected the captain really is.

The walk isn’t long, and before you can even attempt to quell the nausea rising up from your stomach, you find yourself standing in the foyer of the building. The reception desk is empty except for a small sign atop it with an arrow pointing down the corridor, reading ‘Captain Kirk’s Birthday Extravaganza’. You have to force your feet to move in the direction of the music and chatter, despite every fibre of your being telling you to turn around.

The doors to the room are open, so you have absolutely no time to steel your nerves before the first person recognises you. A cadet from the MedBay, of course, you spent enough of your time there for every medical crew member to know who you are. His face is a mixture of confusion and delight as he calls out your name, “Y/N!”

You plaster on a smile, push your shoulders back, and walk into the party.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” the cadet, Trevor, says, “Doctor McCoy said you-” Before he can finish his sentence, another body slams into yours, knocking the breath out of you and almost knocking you clean off your feet.

You stumble back but catch yourself, suddenly wrapped in the familiar smell of wild berry scented shampoo with a ponytail full of brown hair in your face. You hug her back, fighting tears as you mumble into her hair, “Nyota.”

“I can’t believe you came!” she says as she pulls away, her own eyes glassy with moisture, “how long did it take to get here?”

“Not that long,” you shrug, “and it was nice to see the stars again.”

She frowns, “you can still see the stars from the academy.”

“Not from behind my desk, you can’t,” you say through a forced smile, trying to make your sad reality sound like a jest. You truly did hate your dark little office; the only window was facing right at a brick wall of the next building and one of the two ceiling lights had died within a month of you moving in. It was always dark, always cold, and so far from anyone else, you often felt as if you were living in an apocalyptic world.

You only catch a glimpse of Nyota’s sympathetic stare before you’re wrapped in another pair of arms. “Y/N!” Jim exclaims, right into your ear, “you’re here!”

Tears threaten to fall once again as you hug your used-to-be captain back. “I’m here,” you mutter into his shirt.

He pulls back, his blue eyes practically glowing as he takes you in, “you look incredible.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks warm, “not looking so bad yourself, Captain.”

He chuckles, “you can’t call me that anymore, remember. You’re not a part of my crew.”

You know he’s only joking, but the words still cause a small fissure in your already fragile heart. “You’re still a captain, and didn’t you promise to keep my post vacant?”

His previously easy smile falters, but only slightly. “I did, in case you change your mind,” he sighs, “but only for six months.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t hold the position longer than six months,” he puts a hand on your shoulder as if he’s giving you the worst news of your life, “if you decide to stay at the academy, I have to replace you.”

“Wait,” you frown up at him, “is that why you asked me to come, so you could tell me to officially sign off of the Enterprise?”

“No, of course not, I just-” he hesitates before sighing again, “let’s not talk about this now, okay? I invited you here because I miss you.” He pulls you back against his chest and you let yourself relax, allowing the familiarity of your best friend to soothe the fresh wave of anxiety coursing through your veins.

“Now,” as he pulls away, Nyota puts a flute of champagne in your hand, “there are a few people who would really like to see this gorgeous face.”

You roll your eyes as he slides you under one arm and walks further into the crowd. “Even though I know you’re talking about yourself,” you say, “I’ll still pretend I’m flattered.”

It doesn’t take long for the rest of your friends to realise you’re here. Sulu and Chekov are first, each wrapping you in a tight hug before Scotty appears. You didn’t expect him to be that emotional, but you find it difficult to hold back your own tears as he sniffles against your shoulder. Keenser isn’t far behind, holding another full glass for you and taking the empty one back to the bar, no doubt about to retrieve more drinks for himself and Mr. Scott.

The more you watch the grins on your friends’ faces, the more your heart aches to return to them. It feels as if you never left, aside from a few funny stories from the last couple of months that Jim reenacts for you with tipsy enthusiasm. You almost forget about the reason that nearly stopped you from being here; the reason your whole body wanted to turn and run with every inch closer you came to this place.

Almost forgot.

“Bones!” Jim exclaims, throwing his arms up and almost spilling his entire drink, “what took you so long?”

Your heart leaps into your throat, stopping your breath as fire spreads across every inch of your skin. You know your face must be glowing red, but you can’t help that, so you focus on keeping your expression calm as you try to remember how to breathe.

Leonard hesitates, his eyes lingering on you before he clears his throat and turns to Jim. “Sorry, medical emergency.”

Jim scoffs, “I can tell when you’re lying. You’re a very bad liar.”

Leonard takes the drink Sulu offers him and clinks it against Jim’s outstretched glass, “well, we can’t all be talented liars,” he glances quickly at you before turning back to the captain. “Happy birthday.”

His words punch you right in the chest, and you’re sure you can feel another piece of your heart break, but you can’t let it show. You tip the rest of your drink to your lips, sculling almost a full glass of champagne while the others take turns greeting Leonard. When you lower your empty glass, the group is standing in awkward silence, each of them watching either you or the doctor to see who will draw their weapon first.

You take a deep breath before meeting his eyes, offering a tight smile, “it’s nice to see you here.”

“Impolite would only be beneath us,” he remarks, before finishing his own drink in one gulp.

“It’s been what? Like, half a year,” you can barely hear your own words over the thrum of your heartbeat.

He considers you for a moment, his gaze tracing up and down your body before he response, “like nothing ever happened between us.”

Once again, your choke on your breath, his words not only hurting you but throwing fuel on the little flame of anger growing in the pit of your stomach.

“Another round?” Sulu asks suddenly, snatching the empty glass from your hand.

Chekov nods enthusiastically, “I will help you.”

As the two of them walk toward the bar, Scotty and Keenser shuffle away and strike up their own conversation, and Nyota mumbles something about Spock before disappearing into the crowd. You’re left with only Jim and Leonard.

“So,” you clear your throat, “how have you been?”

Like he said, impolite would be beneath you, and you can't let him know how much he hurt you. Even though, if he asked, you would tell him anything he wanted to hear because you can’t help the way you still feel about him. The way you know you’ll always feel about him, even if you’ll never know what actually happened between the two of you.

- 6 months & 2 weeks earlier -

Your boots hit the floor with force as you run down the corridor, narrowly dodging startled Enterprise crew until you reached the rear-most turbolift on the ship. Unable to contain your excitement, you continue mashing the button for the MedBay even as the lift descends, only stopping when the doors begin to open. You slip out as soon as the gap is wide enough and continue your run all the way through the MedBay toward Leonard’s office door.

You swipe your card and the door slides open, and you can’t help the way your heart leaps when you first see him. You’re not sure you will ever be used to the way he makes you feel.

“Len,” you exclaim, gasping for breath, “you won’t believe... I got it... the... the thing!”

He leans back in his desk chair, chuckling, “I gave you access to my office for emergencies.”

“This is an emergency,” you say between breaths, holding your chest with one hand while the other hits the button for the door to close.

“Are you going into cardiac arrest? Because you look like you’re going into cardiac arrest.”

You try to regulate your breathing as you give him your most unimpressed stare, “I just ran over half the ship, I’m allowed to be a little out of breath.”

He laughs again, “a little?”

“Would you stop being a smartass and let me speak,” you say as you round his desk and lean against it.

He pushes his chair back to properly look at you, a devilish grin curling his lips, telling you exactly where his mind had gone seeing you atop his desk.

“I had my meeting with the admiral,” you explain, “about the grant.”

His cheeky grin vanishes, replaced by an anticipatory frown as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “and?”

“They said yes.”

“They said yes?” he echoes, standing from his chair.

“They said yes!” you exclaim, jumping into his open arms and pressing your lips against his. It takes a moment for him to respond, but when he does, he kisses you back with fervour.

“You are incredible,” he mumbles against your mouth, “did you know that?”

You pull back giggling, “I know.”

“Did they have any questions?” he asks, “any conditions?”

“Nope, they loved it.”

"They loved you,” he says before kissing you again, muttering against your lips, “I love you.”

You freeze and your eyes snap open, staring up at him as his cheeks turn red. He hesitates before taking a step back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Didn’t mean it?”

“No, I-” he rubs the back of his neck, “I definitely mean it, I just don’t want you to think I expect you to feel the same way.”

You step forward to close the distance between you, “of course I love you,” you stretch onto your toes and press a kiss against his lips, “more than anything.”

His eyes darken and his hands grab your waist as he steps forward. You stumble back until your backside hits the desk, and before you realise what is happening, he lifts you onto it and positions himself between your legs. One hand stays on your waist while the other cups you jaw, “you locked the door?”

Your mind races with filthy thoughts as his thumb traces your bottom lip, and the best response you can must is a soft whisper, “not sure.”

He chuckles, “then we better hope there are no medical emergencies.”

You knew exactly how you looked as you leant against the back of the turbolift – your hair a mess, cheeks rosy, and lips swollen – but you didn’t care; you just had mind-blowing sex in your boyfriend's office. You nod politely at the two other lieutenants in the lift as you step out, unable to hold your giggles at their uneasy smiles once you turn down the hall.

Nyota was waiting for you in the mess hall, tucked into a small booth on the edge of the room with her nose almost pressed to her PADD as she scrutinised its content. You slide into the seat opposite her, “hey, sorry I’m late.”

She takes one look at you before smirking, “have fun?”

“Lots,” you reply with a grin.

She shuts off her PADD and slides it aside, “so, how did it go?”

“The sex, or?”

“You know what I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes.

You laugh before replying, “it was amazing, actually; I can’t believe how stressed I was for nothing. They listened to my whole pitch, asked all the questions that I had answers for, and then said yes.”

Although her smile is still wide, she doesn’t quite leap for joy the way you had when you ended your meeting with the admiral. You frown, “what?”

“I’m waiting for the ‘but’.”

“Who said there’s a ‘but’?”

Her smile turns sheepish, “Jim.”

"Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you sigh, “I told him to keep it to himself, because I-”

“Told them no?” she interrupts, “and you said you want to stay on the Enterprise despite their generous offer?” Her tone tells you that she already knows what you said, which was, in fact, the exact opposite of what she just said.

One tiny piece of information that you intentionally omitted when you celebrated with Leonard was that in order to win the admiral’s approval for the grant, you might have accidentally accepted a job offer back at the academy. In your defence, it was almost impossible not to say yes. You were asking some of the most senior offices in Starfleet for a huge quantity of additional resources in order to run a twelve-month biomechanical programme aboard the Enterprise. How were you supposed to know they would offer you a position at the academy? And how were you supposed to say no?

By the time you finish telling Nyota about your meeting with the admiral from start to finish the mess hall is much quieter, and you’re surprised at how late it really is when you check your communicator. There is a long, awkward pause while you wait for her to respond, and you begin to feel like a child waiting for their punishment.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Nyota sighs, resting her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands, “you can’t just say something like that knowing you don’t mean it.”

“I know, I just freaked out.”

“Freaked out?” she echoes disapprovingly.

“Yes!” you snap, “it was awkward. What was I supposed to say?”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t know, maybe ‘I’m flattered, but sorry’.”

“Nyota, seriously.”

“I am serious!” she exclaims, “you can’t just take something like that back.”

You sit back and cross your arms, “yes, I can.”

She mimics your body language, raising her brows, “how?”

“Jim is going to talk to him.”

She scoffs, “oh, great idea. You know everyone already thinks Jim favours you?”

“I know how it’s going to look,” you sigh, “but if it gets me out of this mess, I don’t care what anyone thinks about Jim and me.”

Her scowl softens ever so slightly, “so, you got what you wanted and now you’re just going to back out?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrug, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Your communicator chirps and buzzes on the table, breaking both of you out of the intense staring competition you hadn't realised you were in.

“You better hope so,” Nyota says as she slides out of the booth, “and pray they don’t reconsider the grant.”

You check your communicator as you reply, “it’s going to be fine, Nyota, they’ll understand.” There are no missed calls or alerts, but the time reminds you just how tired and ready for bed you are.

The two of you leave the mess hall, walking together until you come to Nyota’s quarters where she bids you a good night. You continue in the direction of your own residency, flipping open your communicator along the way and calling Leonard. You listen to the dial tone for almost a minute before giving up and deciding to wait until he calls you back. Once inside your quarters, you shed your uniform and jump in the shower, scrubbing the stress of the day off before wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel. You check your communicator to find no missed messages, so you try calling Leonard again. No luck.

After an hour of flicking through data on your PADD, you begin to worry. You try calling a third time before you realise how late it is and your panic spikes, so you slip into your shoes and shuffle out the door. The halls are empty as you make your way down to the MedBay, only to find it just as desolate with a single nightshift nurse idly sorting different bits of equipment.

Two more unanswered calls and another half-hour of walking through the quiet ship has your heart racing anxiously, but its late and there’s no one else you can call without being a nuisance and waking them up. You make your way back to your room, dragging your feet until you’re close enough to fall into your bed face first and let out a few tears before exhaustion takes over.

You barely sleep, spending most of the night half-conscious worrying about Leonard. By the time your alarm goes off, you’re already dressed and slipping into your shoes. You shut it off before rushing out the door in the direction of the MedBay, retracing your steps from last night.

Relief washes over you when you see him standing in the doorway of his office, but a new kind of worry settles like a stone in the pit of your stomach. He’s not hurt or missing, so... was he ignoring you?

“Len,” you call as you walk through the MedBay, “hey.”

The look on his face is far from familiar; his hazel eyes seem darker and the circles beneath them are a deep purple, “mornin’.”

“Where have you been?” you ask, unable to mask the worry in your voice, “I was looking for you last night. I called a few times, but you never answered, I was so worried.”

He keeps his eyes on his PADD as he turns and walks further into his office, “sorry, medical emergency.”

You follow him in, trying not to choke on the panic rising in your throat, “oh, I didn’t hear about anything. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbles, “just busy.” He refuses to look up at you, keeping his eyes trained on the device in his hands and moving as if you’re both the south ends of two opposing magnets.

“Okay,” you say, your voice even weaker than before, “well, I spoke to Jim yesterday and he said we should break out the scotch tonight. You know, have a little celebration?”

“Can’t, I’m on call.”

"You could still come and hang out,” you force a smile onto your lips, “come on, don’t make me admit that I miss you.”

He only scoffs, his attention unmoving from his PADD.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “are you sure you’re alright?”

He sighs and finally looks up, his brows knit tight and something akin to resentment behind his glare, “Jim told me.”

“Told you what?”

“About the job offer.”

The stone in your stomach grows three sizes, sending a wave of nausea through your whole body and you have to lean against the wall to steady yourself. “He wasn’t supposed to,” you mutter, “he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone because I’m not taking it.”

“I think you should.”

His words feel like a knife being plunged into your chest, knocking you breathless and turning your voice into a whisper, “what?”

“I think you should take the job,” he says.

You blink back your tears, “why?”

“It sounds like a great opportunity, and you’re young, so you should take it.”

If it weren’t for your shoulder leaning against the wall, you could almost be sure the room itself is starting to spin. You can feel your heartbeat in every inch of your skin, heat spreading like wildfire through your whole body as your heart begins to tear itself in two.

“Just so I’m clear,” your words are soft and unsteady, “you want me to take the job and leave the Enterprise?”

He nods once, opening his mouth to reply but hesitates, as if suddenly deciding not to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue. Only then do you realise that tears are streaming down your cheeks.

“Okay, fine,” you say, wiping your face with the back of your hand, “I’ll take the job, and since you can’t seem to stand the sight of me, I’ll start in three weeks instead of six.”

You can barely see his face through the blur of tears, so you turn sharply toward the door and storm out, trying your best to keep your sobs muffled as you move through the ship and back to your room.

Those three weeks were the closest thing to hell that you’ve ever known. At first you were devastated, locking yourself in your room for four days straight, refusing to talk to anyone and living off half a meal a day. Everyone was worried but knew you needed space, especially after they heard you accepted the job at the academy. After the fourth day of wallowing, you got angry. You finally showered, dressed, and ate a full meal before deciding you would demand Leonard to tell you what the fuck you did wrong.

Jim said he could hear that first ‘conversation’ between you and the doctor all the way from the bridge... you were in the MedBay. You’re not sure you’ve ever yelled at someone so much, let alone someone you love, but it was like that for the rest of your time on the Enterprise. You couldn’t be amicable with one another, no matter how hard you tried.

“Y/N,” Jim nudges you with his elbow, “do you remember that?”

You blink away your daydream to find four sets of eyes on you and one pair intentionally avoiding you, “remember what?”

“When you weren’t wearing underwear and we-”

“Jim!” you smack his arm, “I thought you promised not to bring that up ever again.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, chuckling, “I’m sorry but I have a duty to never let that story die, it has to be one of the best days of my life.”

You roll your eyes but still join in the laughter of the captain, Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty. You’re almost positive you see Leonard’s lip twitch, but he quickly lifts his glass and takes a huge gulp of beer. Once the laughter subsides, Jim squeezes you closer and sighs, “you know, it’s just not the same without you on the ship. I actually miss you, like, a lot.”

You gasp dramatically, “did James Tiberius Kirk just admit to feeling something?”

“I’m serious,” he says, “don’t you miss me?” His blue eyes are wide and pleading, tugging at your heartstrings.

“Of course I miss you,” you quickly look around your circle of friends, “I miss everyone. It wasn’t easy to leave, but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

“Aw,” Jim coos, “do you mean it? You really miss me?”

You roll your eyes again despite the smile on your face, “yes, I really mean it.”

Leonard scoffs, “are you sure about that?”

You can feel the energy shift, everyone suddenly tense as you finally look up at him, “about what?”

“That you mean it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask, pulling away from under Jim’s arm.

Leonard shrugs, “sometimes people say things they don’t mean.”

“I guess,” you frown, “but why would I lie?”

“You tell me,” he replies, his expression unreadable as he takes another sip of beer.

You hesitate for a moment, the tension tangible as you scramble for words. “I’m confused,” you finally say, “Did I do something in the last twenty seconds to piss you off?”

He chuckles bitterly, “you know what? Don’t worry about it.”

The angry flame in your belly bursts into a bonfire, heating you from the inside and bordering your vision with red. “No,” you step forward ever so slightly, “you can’t just call me a liar and then tell me not to worry about it. What did I do?”

“Nothing, just forget about it. I’ll see you around,” he says, moving as if he intends to walk away.

“No!” you snap, taking another step toward him, “I won’t ‘forget about it’ either. This is not what I came here for, but if you have something to say, then say it. Or better yet, if you have something to feel, then feel it and stop pretending to be so fucking indifferent.”

He frowns, his hazel eyes full of an emotion you can’t seem to place. “Would you stop?” he murmurs, “you’re making a scene.”

Jim mumbles sarcastically behind you, “oh, how I miss the war.”

You ignore him, your glare locked on Leonard, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one that started it, but- oh wait,” you pause for dramatic effect, “that’s right; you can’t finish anything you start.”

The blow lands, because you can see the vein in his neck pulse even faster. Neither of you like to play too dirty, most of your ‘fights’ are just petty arguments, but every now and then a carefully crafted comment will remind each of you that if you wanted to, you could really hurt one another. You know Leonard isn’t proud of his divorce, and you know that bringing it up in any negative context can really get to him.

“Maybe you’re right,” his says in a low voice, “but at least I have the decency to walk away before I make a mess.”

It takes all of your self-control not to speak any louder than he did, “oh, you want to talk about making a mess?”

“No, because I’m going to leave before I say something I don’t mean.”

He turns and walks away before you can fully process what just happened. You can feel the red-hot colour of your cheeks as blood pumps through your veins twice as fast as normal, both from anger and embarrassment. Luckily, not many others noticed your little spat, and your friends had to deal with so much of that during your final weeks on the Enterprise that they’re not even phased.

You turn to Jim, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, once again wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “on the scale of Y/N versus Bones, that was like a four.”

You can’t help but giggle as he guides you toward the bar.

“It would have been a three,” you continue, “but I’ll award an extra point for the jab at his divorce.”

“Jim!” you scold, nudging his rib with your elbow.

He laughs again, louder, “what? If I have to deal with my two favourite people at war, then I’m going to make a game of it.”

You spend the rest of the night right beside Jim, trying to ignore the guilt growing bigger and uglier inside your stomach. Leonard doesn’t leave until a few hours later, having been caught by a group of his MedBay buddies who insist on fetching him drinks, and you can’t help from keeping him within your sight. You’re jealous of every single person who gets even a second of his attention or a smile directed their way, and when one of the cute young nurses leans in a little too close to him, you feel your drinks bubbling up your throat.

You decide to say goodbye mere minutes after you see the doctor walk out the door, leaving Jim to his merriment with the rest of the crew who are more than a little inebriated, though he doesn’t let you walk away until you pinkie-promise to join your friends at breakfast in the morning. That should be fun.

The walk back to your hotel feels longer than it did on the way to the party. Your feet are sore and heavy, and your stomach feels like its full of toxic waste that isn’t going to stay there for long. You didn’t even drink that much, you just can’t help feeling sick over your argument with Leonard and the way that nurse touched his arm.

You kick your shoes off the second you step into your room and wriggle out of your dress, throwing it on the floor along with everything else you can remove from your body before falling on the bed. Just as you’ve done for the past five months, you begin to play back every interaction you’ve had with Leonard since he told you to take the job at the academy, starting with the newest addition to the library from this evening. The first time you did this was the first night you spent at your cramped apartment on the academy’s campus; you thought if you dissected enough of the interaction, you might be able to figure out what went wrong. After a while you realised it had become a sort of comfort, simply remembering that Leonard did still exist and he is still out there. You often wonder if he thinks of you just as much, but you try not to feed the hope that still burns at the back of your chest, which is exactly why you’re only allowed to remember the fights and arguments. If you let your mind wander further back than that, you might not ever return to reality.

A chirp from your communicator wakes you, so you rub your eyes until you can read the cheeky message from Jim reminding you about your breakfast plans. You groan loudly as you throw the comforter back and quite literally roll out of bed. You’re not ready for another battle, but you do have unfinished business with Jim relating to your status of employment aboard the Enterprise, or lack thereof.

You hadn’t mentioned it last night because of, well, obvious reasons, but there is another factor contributing to your decision whether or not to forfeit your post as a part of Jim’s crew. Before you left, as if your boss knew this trip would tempt you to return to your friends, the academy offered you another position co-leading a brand-new programme for aspiring mechatronic engineers. It’s not necessarily your strength, but it sounds incredible, and to be amongst some of the most intelligent people in Starfleet would be nothing short of inspiring, but that meant giving up the Enterprise (and her crew) for good.

You quickly shower and change into comfortable clothes before packing most of your belongings into your duffel bag. You do have another night booked, but you’re not sure you’ll want to stay on Yorktown much longer if this morning doesn’t go well.

Unsurprisingly, Jim decided to have breakfast at the Starfleet base where most of the crew would be staying during their time on the starbase. It was just the same as the mess hall on the ship or at the academy, just a little newer with better food because most people passing through Yorktown were high-ranking or dignitaries from the Federation, and apparently, Jim Kirk was also one of those important people. The Enterprise crew were given a private buffet on the mezzanine level of the huge eating area, where two long tables were laid out with all the breakfast food you could imagine.

“I think we might have to warn Starfleet about giving the captain a big head,” Nyota says, falling into step beside you, “or soon there won’t be room for anyone else on the bridge.”

You giggle, “but if there’s no one else on the bridge, who’s going to compliment his luscious hair and his humble courage?”

She laughs too and even Spock cracks a tiny smile beside her.

“Hey Spock.”

“It is nice to see you again, Y/N,” he responds with a nod, “I regret not being able to spend more time with you last night.”

You wave your hand dismissively and continue toward the tables of food. Sulu soon joins the three of you and you chat idly while loading up plates full of food. Jim is standing at the back of the room, leaning against the wall with a coffee in one hand and using the other to animate whatever intriguing conversation he and Scotty were having. You try not to acknowledge Leonard as you approach them.

“Hey,” Nyota whispers, “we don’t have to join them.”

You shake your head, “I’m calm, I’m sure of it.”

She can’t help but snicker quietly at the comically wide smile you force across your face as you reach your group of friends.

“Good morning gorgeous,” Jim greets you as you join them, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m surprised you’re here,” you say.

He rolls his eyes, “please, I have a liver of steel.”

You can’t hold back your laughter, “is that what that was on New Year’s Eve? It was your liver of steel that made you fall off the toilet and page Len because you couldn’t feel your left butt cheek?”

You laugh a little harder as you vividly recall the state Jim had been in that night, but the laughter from the rest of the group is soft and awkward, and only then do you realise what you said. Len. Only you called him that.

Jim clears his throat before it gets too uncomfortable, “uh, anyway, have you thought about your decision?”

“Oh,” you quickly swallow the piece of pancake you put in your mouth, “right into it, then.”

He shrugs sheepishly, “I kind of have to have an answer once I’m back on duty.”

“Well,” you sigh, “then I have to tell you about something else.” You steal a glance at Leonard, noticing his cheeks a darker shade of pink than usual and you wonder if it’s because of your slip up.

You explain the offer from your boss and the programme you’d be running to the group in front of you, trying to keep your voice neutral. You don’t want to seem too resentful of the tiny apartment and dark office you currently have, but you definitely don’t want any of them to think you’re more interested in the academy’s new initiative than returning to the Enterprise.

To everyone’s surprise, Leonard is the first to speak, “it’s a good programme, I’ve heard of it.”

“You’d leave for good?” Nyota asks, “give up your position on the Enterprise?”

“And surrender from the battle,” Jim chuckles, glancing between you and Leonard with a smirk. Nyota and Spock both give him their most disapproving parent stares, and his grin disappears, “sorry, not the time.”

“Well, I was kind of hoping my friends would help me decide,” you say, looking to each of them except Leonard.

“But you know what we’re going to say,” Nyota shrugs, “we want you to come back to the Enterprise.”

“I know, but,” you look pointedly at Scotty, “you can also understand that this is a huge opportunity. I just need some advice.” You know that above the rest, Scotty is the biggest advocate for your career, and you knew he would be the most excited about the programme at the academy.

“You’re right, lassie,” he sighs, “and I’d like to say I’ve missed you the most – it’s been hell down there with just Keenser – but I could never tell you not to take this offer. You’re young, and they’ve noticed you. If you go for this now, you’ll have endless opportunities at Starfleet.”

“But you also have endless opportunities on the Enterprise,” Jim argues. “The resources for your programme only just came in and we’re in the early stages of setting it up; you could take over and lead it. It is your baby.

Your pulse quickens with excitement at the idea of running your programme, but it’s been months since you had anything to do with it. “I’d feel bad taking it over from someone else,” you say, “I couldn’t do that.”

He shakes his head, “no one has been appointed to lead it yet.”

Sulu clears his throat, “well, Captain, we do have Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy who could lead the programme aboard the Enterprise, and the offer Y/N has is huge. There are thousands in Starfleet who would kill for this opportunity. I miss her as much as anyone else, but she could assist remotely if we need her.”

Jim frowns at his lieutenant for not picking the same side of the argument.

“You’re right, Sulu,” you smile at him before countering Jim’s scowl, “Scotty and Dr. McCoy can run it. They’re the brains behind the whole thing anyway. All I did was pitch it, so really, my job is done.”

“Your job is not done,” Nyota butts in, “you have no idea how hard the last few months have been without you.”

“That’s because I haven’t been replaced, the crew is down a man.”

“You’re not replaceable,” Jim states, his brows even closer than before, “no one could-”

“I’ll stop you right there, Captain,” you interrupt, “because there are plenty of incredible people in Starfleet who could do more than simply fill my shoes.”

Jim huffs, failing to find another counter argument.

“If I may, Y/N,” Spock says, taking half a step forward, “but you are seeking advice to assist in making the decision, are you not? Though you argue only with those who advise you to return to the Enterprise, which would suggest that you have already made this decision. Unless you are simply waiting for a better reason to return, or perhaps, for the right person to ask you to,” he pauses and turns to Leonard, “Dr. McCoy?”

The air is suddenly thick with tension, everyone gaping at Spock and wondering if they might have imagined what they just heard.

“Fire in the hole,” Jim murmurs into his cup as he takes a swig of coffee.

Leonard clears his throat, “I don’t particularly care what Y/N does, so I don’t think my opinion should matter.”

Jim coughs, almost choking on his drink, “and take cover.” He pats his chest and turns to Spock, “have I introduced you to our newest cadet in the archaeological research division? He’s amazing. Nyota, Scotty, you too.”

Without so much as a hint of subtlety, everyone disperses, leaving you and Leonard alone in the corner of the huge room.

Somehow, you find enough courage to turn to him and ask, “why did you tell me to leave?”

“I’ve answered this question a hundred times,” he sighs, “it was a great job opportunity. You would have been stupid not to take it.”

“No, this time I want the truth.”

He rolls his eyes, “why do you repeatedly insist on having this conversation, knowing exactly how it's going to end?”

You can only just hear him over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears; rage and anticipation coursing through you as you stand between the doctor and the rest of the Enterprise crew. You’ve already embarrassed yourself last night, you might as well give it one last go before you make your decision.

“Because I want the real answer,” you reply, keeping your voice even, “so we’re going to keep having it until you tell me the truth.”

“Okay, you want my advice?” he says, “take the job and give up your position on the Enterprise so that I can be rid of you and this conversation for good.”

Once again, his words knock the breath from your lungs. You can almost feel the new fractures splitting your heart into even smaller pieces, but the pain moves to the back of your mind as you realise that he did just admit something that he hasn’t before.

“So…” you whisper, searching frantically for your voice, “it was about getting rid of me, not about the job.”

An array of emotions you can’t even attempt to read cross his face in less than a second before he settles on a frown, “look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. If anything, you owe me.”

“I owe you what?”

“An explanation.”

You frown too, “what for?”

“For what you said before you left!” he snaps.

You can practically feel the sets of eyes on your back multiply, more bystanders finding interest in the exchange happening at the back of the room.

“Len, we were at each other’s throats before I left,” you say, lowering your voice, “I’m sure we both said things we didn’t mean.”

You try for a second to remember something deep and personal he’d said to you in your final weeks on the ship, but nothing comes to mind. In fact, all you can remember is petty fighting and childish arguments. It was almost as if neither of you truly wanted to hurt the other, or at least, not acutely. You never brought up the deepest and darkest pieces of pain from each other’s history, knowing it would irreversibly damage the relationship between you. The closest you’ve gotten was last night when you hinted at his divorce, saying he couldn’t finish anything he started, and even then, you felt awful.

“Not that,” he mutters, "what you said after your meeting with the admiral.”

You frown again, “that I got the grant?”

“After that.”

You have to think for a minute, playing back that day in your head as you’ve done a thousand times. Only this time, you allow yourself to remember all of it, without blocking out the parts that made your heart hurt. You gasp quietly when you realise, slowly looking up at him, “y-you’re angry because I said I loved you?”

His expression is the softest you’ve seen it in months, his hazel eyes almost green behind the sadness filling them, “I’m not angry that you said it, I’m angry because you lied.”

Tears begin to blur your vision, but you refuse to let them fall, “why would I lie about that?”

“Don’t bother, alright?” he says before clearing his raspy throat, “I heard you talking to Nyota.”

“When?”

“When you went to meet her, after we- you know, in my office,” his cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink.

You shake your head, as if it should help clear your thoughts, “I’m confused.”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” he snaps again, though this time with a little less bite.

“Well clearly, I have no idea what is going on!” You don’t care who’s watching anymore, this is the closest you’ve ever been to actually finding out what happened.

He sighs, “You called me, by accident I guess, and I heard you. You told her that you only said it because it was awkward, that you were going to take it back because you got what you wanted, and that Jim-”

“I’ll get Jim to talk to him,” you cut him off, realisation smacking you across the face. You feel dizzy as everything hits you at once and a montage of memories rush through your head. The pieces of the puzzle you’d been trying to solve for months finally fall into place, and you finally know why Leonard broke your heart that day.

“Exactly,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You’ve spent months wondering whether it was because of the job offer itself, or because you got the grant on his behalf, but Leonard wasn’t the type to be jealous of his friends. You wondered if he simply wasn’t ready for a new relationship, or if you’d scared him when you told him you loved him, but he said it first. You even wondered, very briefly, if he’d heard some stupid rumour about you and Jim, since you knew there were some of those around, but you’d spoken about it before, even laughed about it. You never considered that the whole thing could have been one, big, stupid misunderstanding.

Leonard frowns, “You can’t seriously tell me that you had no idea what happened until now.”

“Len, I-”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I really don’t want to-”

“Leonard, please,” you sigh “would you just give me five seconds.”

“You’ve had five months,” he exclaims, “and you still can’t admit it to my face?”

“Because you’re wrong,” you snap.

His frown disappears, “I’m what?”

“You don’t know what you think you know,” you say, clasping your hands over your stomach as another wave of nausea hits you.

"I heard you say it.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves coursing through your veins like an electric current. “Yes,” you begin, “I said those things, but not about you. I-It was about the job, I… when I was in the meeting with the admiral, he offered me the job before he approved the grant, and I said yes... but I didn’t mean it. It was awkward and I needed him to say yes, so I accepted, but I never wanted the job. I didn’t want to leave the Enterprise; I didn’t want to leave you. I was in love with you. Jim was going to speak to the admiral for me, say that he couldn’t let me go, the ship needed me, and I had to run the programme, but then... well, you told me to go, so I-”

“Left,” he finishes for you, his eyes glassy as his mind wanders back to that night.

Your heart is thundering so loud you can’t even hear the commotion of the people behind you over the thrum of your pulse. Neither of you dare to speak, you don’t even know what to say. Six whole months of pain and anger, all because of a misunderstanding. If Leonard had asked you about the conversation he overhead, or if you asked him what was wrong instead of just leaving... you could have avoided the worst six months of your life. You feel stupid.

“You must hate me,” he finally says, every bit of anger gone from his voice, “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can respond, he steps to the side and strides right past you. He passes easily through the groups of people enjoying their breakfast, down the stairs, and out of the building.

“Ye’re barely off the ground for six months and ye already forget how ta solder straight,” Scotty shouts from the deck below.

You put down your tools and take two steps to lean over the railing and glare down at him, “for your information, I was never very good at soldering.”

He chuckles and waves a hand, returning his attention to the open machinery in front of him, ready to remedy your errors from attempting to fix it earlier. In your defence, you weren’t usually on the tools, but you wanted to be able to join in on the practical portion of the new programme when the time came, so you agreed to a month down in the warp core with Scotty to brush up on your skills. It’s been almost a week without incident, which you considered to be a personal record. Though you’re fairly sure it has nothing to do with your skills and everything to do with not wanting to end up in the MedBay.

Jim’s birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and you still haven’t spoken to Leonard since that morning. After he left, you went straight to Jim and told him you’d be back aboard the Enterprise effective immediately. You quit your job at the academy – luckily you were still within the probationary period – and had all of your belongings packed and shipped to the next Federation planet that the Enterprise is due at. You’ll be picking them up in a few days, but you honestly wouldn’t be too worried if they never showed up. You’re just happy to be home; it’s as if you never left. That is, except for Leonard.

You know you have to give him space, and obviously he wants nothing to do with you right now, so you can’t force yourself upon him even if you’d settle for just friends at this point. Your heart aches in a whole new way whenever you hear his name, but you haven’t yet run into him, and you’re not sure what will happen when you do.

“Shit,” you hiss, quickly pulling away from where you’re working to watch blood drip from your hand, “of course.”

“I told Scotty that it wasn’t a good idea putting a pretty girl like you down here,” Jim says as he wanders in from the corridor.

You scowl at him, “I’ll ignore the misogyny because I’m in pain. Can you get me the first aid kit?”

He chuckles, “I don’t think a bandage is going to cut it; you need stitches.”

“I do not,” you argue, despite the blood creating a small puddle at your feet.

“Yes, you do,” he insists, “and as a bonus, you can give Bones a heart attack.”

You take a clean rag and wrap it around your hand, allowing Jim to help as you ask him, “why would I give him a heart attack?”

He shrugs, “I’m not sure he knows you’re back aboard the ship.”

“Excuse me?”

“I haven’t spoken to him since Yorktown,” he clarifies, “I made sure he was okay after breakfast, but I didn’t tell him that you’d decided to return to the Enterprise. It didn’t seem like the time.”

You’re almost positive if looks could kill, Jim would dead on the floor right now. “But he’s the Chief Medical Officer,” you stress, “he has to know everyone aboard the ship.”

“Yes,” Jim says, “and no, there are a lot of crew members.”

“He would have had to sign me back on!”

Jim can’t help but laugh again at the way your voice cracks. “He’s been sick,” he states, “since we boarded. Doctor Gronan has been standing in for him until yesterday.”

“Doctor Gronan signed me back on,” you mutter to yourself.

“Yep.”

“Then why wouldn’t you tell him?” you exclaim.

Your captain laughs once again, shrugging as he replies, “I thought it would be fun to see how long it took him to find out.”

“This isn’t a game!”

“But it is fun.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“After you get stitched up, come on,” he sighs, guiding you toward the corridor by your shoulders, “I assume you know the way?”

“I’m familiar,” you reply, dragging your feet into the bright white hallway.

“Excellent, no detours, but first, where’s Scotty?”

“Deck below,” you mumble.

“Thank you,” he gives you a cheeky wink, “now, on your way.”

Your pulse quickens with every step you take toward the MedBay, which you’re pretty sure is why the rag you’re holding begins to soak with blood. Other crew members watch you hurry through the ship with concern, and by the time you reach the MedBay, you’re trailing little red droplets across the floor. The moment Leonard looks up from his PADD, he goes paper white and his eyes practically double in size. Despite being obviously unsettled, he looks good; you could never get sick of seeing him in his uniform.

“Hey,” you say, stepping closer to him in order to deter bystanders from eavesdropping.

He swallows thickly, “hi.”

Another beat of silence passes because you hold up your injured hand, “um, I’m bleeding.”

“Shit, sorry,” he finally notices the bloody rag, “come with me.”

You follow him into one of the treatment rooms and sit on the bed, legs swinging over the side as he pulls the stool and cart over to you.

“Sorry,” he says again as he arranges the equipment on the cart, “I- um, I didn’t know you were back.”

“I know, Jim thought it would be funny.”

He looks up suddenly, that familiar frown knitting his brows.

“I didn’t know,” you clarify, “I assumed you had signed me aboard and were just avoiding me.”

His frown softens and he opens his mouth to reply but hesitates, instead returning his attention to the bloody rag wrapped around your hand. He nods for you to show him, so you extend your arm and allow him to remove the make-shift bandage. You try not to wince when the material pulls on a dried bit of blood, but you can’t help your hand from twitching. Leonard’s own hand cups yours out of instinct; a comforting gesture that wouldn’t mean a thing to you from any other doctor but means everything from Leonard. He looks up at you, as if asking permission to continue touching you, waiting for you to nod before he starts cleaning the cut.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” he mutters.

Ironic... you think, though choose not to say it aloud. You nod again, “okay.”

Another few minutes pass as he finishes cleaning the cut, numbs your skin, and prepares to stitch it closed. He holds the dermal regenerator a few inches from your hand and it begins to whir softly, shooting out a blue beam that sews the skin back together. You let your eyes wander from the healing cut to where the doctor is touching you, his warm skin beneath the glove making yours tingle all the way up your arm and into your chest, waking up the butterflies that live in your rib cage. Their fluttering wings make it hard to breathe, and that familiar sense of anticipation and giddiness takes over any feelings of contempt or anger.

The regenerator stops and he looks up to meet your gaze, his pupils doubling their size, “all done.”

You flex your hand, “feels brand new.”

“Give it a minute,” he says, “keep stretching, and I’ll check it over before you go.”

You watch him pack away the cart and dispose of all the bloody gauze. His hands work fluidly, not once hesitating as his muscle memory tells them where to put each tool or piece of equipment. He pulls his gloves off and for some stupid reason your heart leaps; heat flushes through your whole body, concentrating in a tight ball just below your belly as your mind replays all the things those hands have done to you.

“Let me have a look.”

You willingly put your hand back in his, praying your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. He presses gently around the faint line where your cut had been, glancing up with each new area he pushes on to see if you wince or react at all.

“Looks good,” he lets go of you hand and rolls back on the stool, “you can go back to work, just don’t lift anything heavy and please wear gloves.”

You try to fight the sheepish grin tugging at your lips, “yes, sir.”

His cheeks flush pink and you can’t help being a little proud. He stands up, avoiding your gaze as he picks up his PADD to check off a few more things, no doubt clearing you to return to work. You slide off the bed and straighten your uniform, trying to think of something else to say so you don’t have to leave. Should you make up an illness, or is that too desperate? This is the most amicable interaction you’ve had in months; you don’t want it to end.

“I jus’ want to say,” he clears his throat, “I am really-”

“I know,” you interrupt, “and it’s okay, you don’t have to apologise.”

He frowns, “you’re not angry?”

You sigh and lean back against the bed, “well, I thought about it, at first, but then realised that I gave up on us just as quickly.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me to leave, and I left,” you reply, “I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t argue, I didn’t fight it, I just left.”

His frown doesn’t move, only his eyes, raking up and down your body twice before settling on your lips and turning that warmth below your belly into a full-blown bonfire.

“Besides,” you continue, your nerves forcing you to fill the silence, “if I honestly believed I'd heard my boyfriend tell someone that he regretted saying he loved me, I’d probably react the same way... or worse.”

He cracks a small smile and your heart races as if you’d just run five miles, but the light-heartedness on his face disappears just as quickly as it had come. “Ex-boyfriend,” he says.

You frown, “what?”

“You said boyfriend, you meant ‘ex-boyfriend’.”

“Oh,” you nod slowly, “well, actually, I don’t think I remember breaking up.”

He actually laughs, only a short chuckle, but it’s the best thing you’ve heard in months.

“I’m serious!” you insist, laughing despite your words, “neither of us actually said the words.”

His smile fades, and he looks back down at his PADD before you can figure out the new expression on his face, “regardless of words being said, I’m sure other things happened that-”

You cut him off, “what ‘other’ things?”

“I’m not naive,” he chuckles bitterly, “I’m sure there were plenty of Starfleet’s finest that were more than eager to meet the gorgeous new engineer.”

“Oh,” you know your cheeks are now glowing red, “thanks, I think, but- uh, no, I didn’t sleep with anyone.”

He looks up again, a mixture of confusion and something else you can’t quite place written across his face. Panic clouds your thoughts as you wonder whether he has slept with anyone in the time you were away. You hadn’t even considered it, hadn’t tortured yourself with that possibility because deep down he was still yours, it was almost as if a part of you knew it wasn’t over.

“Why not?” he asks.

You shrug, “too heartbroken.”

He drops his PADD on the nearest tabletop, sighing, “you have no idea how sorry I am.”

“Len, I told you-”

“Let me apologise,” he demands, stepping forward until his chest is an inch from your nose, “I need to apologise, because I don’t think I will ever stop hating myself for losing my one reason for existing.”

You gasp and then quickly forget how to breathe, holding the air in your lungs as if the slightest movement would wake you up from whatever wild dream you’d fallen into. You stare up at him, unblinking.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hooking a finger beneath your chin.

You still can’t breathe, and your head starts to spin as he slowly closes the distance between your mouths.

“If you want me to stop,” he murmurs, his lips practically brushing yours, “just tell-”

“Shut up,” you mutter, before pushing up onto your toes and pressing your mouth against his.

His hands find your waist and your bodies snap together, like two magnets alone in their own field void of any other gravitational pull. His lips taste the same, his tongue moves exactly the way you know, and he feels like home.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, your mouths barely parting before his lips catch your breath again.

You step back until your bum bumps into the bed, and with the slightest effort, he lifts you onto it. His hands spread your knees, allowing him to nestle between them as his touch makes its way up your body to your neck, the heat of his skin on yours pulling the knot below your belly even tighter. You slide forward ever-so-slightly, unable to stop yourself from grinning when you feel the hardness of him rub between your legs.

He groans and tightens a hand around the front of your neck, “careful, darlin’.”

Your grin grows wider, “I missed you.”

He pulls back and his hands return to your waist. His skin is flushed and his pupils blown wide, his lips swollen and red, and you’re almost convinced you’ve died and gone to heaven. “I missed you too,” he says, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips.

“Do you two know there are cameras in here?” Jim asks, appearing at the door and startling both of you, “or do you just have some kinky preference for being watched?” His smirk stretches from one ear to the other, and he attempts to appear casual by leaning against the door frame but his bright eyes are sparkling with mischief.

“Do you watch all the surveillance footage, or do you just have some kinky preference for the MedBay?” you retort, your fingers curling into the fabric of Leonard’s shirt to keep him in place.

He doesn’t even try to turn around for obvious reasons in his pants, but throws an irritated scowl over his shoulder, “really, Jim?”

Jim chuckles, “what’s the matter, Bones?”

“You,” Leonard snaps, “you’re the matter!”

“Why can’t you turn around?” he asks, his voice laced with evil intent.

You reach for the small pillow at the top of the bed and lob it across the room at him, “would you fuck off?”

He laughs again, “no need to be so rude, I just wanted to see my two best friends!”

Leonard rolls his eyes, his grip on your hips tightening, “you’re about to see a lot more than you’ve bargained for if you don’t fuck off.”

Your stomach flips and a warm, tingly sense of anticipation spreads throughout your whole body.

“Fine,” Jim sighs, pushing off the door frame and taking a step back, “I’ll just watch the cameras.”

“Get out!” Leonard exclaims, turning around as Jim cackles and hurries away.

Leonard presses the button for the door to slide shut and another button to lock it.

“You don’t think he’s really going to watch the cameras, right?” you ask.

He returns to the space between your legs, splaying his hands across your thighs where your dress has ridden up, “probably.” His hands slide up under your dress and you instinctively straighten your spine, tilting your head back in a desperate attempt to get your mouth closer to his.

He stays just out of reach, his breath hot on your lips as he speaks, “so you better be a good girl and put on a show.”

END.

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kiwihrt · 5 months ago

Text

guidance · sung hanbin

summary. being an idol with hanbin as your older brother.

sung hanbin x sister!reader · platonic, fluff, drabble · 0.8k words · masterlist

! : fem!reader, idol!hanbin, idol!reader, tiny bit of angst, r being hated on, everything else is just fluff and comfort.

You were Hanbin’s biggest fan—before the world ever got to know who he was. You cheered him up when he was at his lowest, and you cheered him on when he was announced as second place for the new k-pop group ZeroBaseOne. You couldn’t be prouder.

It was really encouraging to see what could be achieved. You saw him living out his dreams as you continued to practice hard. His words of comfort were always sent to you through a message, over the phone, or in person as he hugged you and pat the back of your head.

Part of you was beginning to lose hope that you would ever debut, but you pushed forward.

Thank goodness you did, because you soon found out you were going to be finally making your debut. You were in a group with four other girls, and they were some of your closest friends. You had been training with two of them for some time, and had gotten to know the other two a few months ago. They were like your family.

When Hanbin found out, he was overjoyed. He found the nearest time in both his and your schedule to visit you, bringing you flowers and some of your favourite snacks as a gift. You almost burst to tears from both the gesture and from the exhaustion you went through to make it to this point.

He saw the way your lower lip trembled almost immediately and he pulled you into his embrace, a warm laugh leaving his mouth. “Don’t cry~“ He had said, a hand on the back of your head. “You finally did it.” He said pridefully.

By the time your debut came around, you were more stressed than ever. Endless promotions, sleepless nights… it was a lot. The one thing that kept you going? The nightly messages from your big brother. ‘First performance today! You did amazing 🫶’, ‘Make sure to rest well :)’, ‘Try not to overwork yourself. Take breaks when possible ❤️’.

It was amazing what a quick text message could do for your motivation. It helped so much.

When things eventually took a turn, and you made a small mistake in one of your performances, the amount of hate you got was unbelievable. Who would’ve thought people would have so much to say about you tripping over your feet? It was only the slightest stumble. ‘All that training… just to mess up in the first month of being an idol?’, ‘This girl wasn’t ready. Maybe i’m an ot4 stan now…’, ‘Why did the company even put her in this group? She’s not even adding anything to it.’

K-Pop fans don’t seem to think their idols see everything they post, but they see a lot more than anyone would even think. And when suddenly you’re a trending topic amongst multiple K-Pop fandoms?… you definitely heard the things that were being said about you.

You knew you shouldn’t let it get to you, but it did. You cried into your pillow more times than you cared to admit, and it wasn’t until you heard your phone ringing that you realized you had someone who would be there to listen. Someone who knew you better than anyone.

“Y/nie~” His comforting voice flowed through the speaker. You tried to keep the tears back, but at his tone, they started rolling down your face again. He heard your hiccups and sniffles from his end and his lips went into a pout. “Don’t cry… I know it’s hard. I’ve been where you are before. People will freak out over the smallest things. It’s a bit pathetic.” He laughed, maybe attempting to maybe you laugh. Maybe for a moment you did laugh, the half-joyful noise breaking through your quiet sobs. You heard his hum in content at the sound.

He continued. “You made a small mistake, and that’s completely fine. you’re going to make mistakes, but since you’re so new to the industry, people are going to watch you a little closer, and they’re going to be a little meaner, but that doesn’t mean what they’re saying is true. You’re one of the most talented people i know—and I’ve known that for a long time.” He sighed, pausing for a moment. “If you ever need anything, I’m always here. You can call me any time and I’ll always get back to you.”

Your breath started to slow, and your crying started to lessen. He was right. “How about tomorrow we go hang out. You’re not doing anything right? You have a free day? Well, I’m free until noon, so we can hang out. How’s that sound?” At the end of his sentence his voice lifted up into that higher pitched tone he used with his maknae of his group often. You weren’t a stranger to the tone, and it made you laugh. “Okay, sounds good.”

You could tell that he was smiling through his light voice coming through the phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow, than. Goodnight. Rest well. Love you.” You smiled. “Love you, too.”

You were Hanbin’s biggest fan first, and he was yours. It was clear in the way he checked in on you, guided you through your new career, and lended a helping hand when you couldn’t pull yourself up.

main taglist: @superlegend216

@ haodore

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yandere-sins · 1 year ago

Text

The Orcas' Tale - Lyr's Story I

And here he is, our sweetest, craziest, loveliest boy ♥ Honestly, it was fun giving Lyr a bit more personality than he had in the original story, and I am also glad to have provided him with a cute little darling of his own. I hope you guys enjoy slipping into the role of a mermaid, and ehem look forward to a different kind of spice (;

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con Kissing/Touching/Fingering, Bondage kind of), Violence (Threats to kill/harmm reader, Sharp teeth/claws, Almost tearing off reader's jaw), Monsters/Non-Human reader, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con, Feeding the reader seal meat, Being caught in a net, Long post

"They just won't stop bugging! Like, I get it, Mom, bringing a human into the pod was stupid and dangerous, but it's not our fault that Nerrocan left!"

Heaving a deep sigh, Lyr looked up at the water's surface through the holes in the ceiling of the cove he had found. Light was shimmering into the mostly calm water, a few tiny fish slipping in and out of the cave-like structure while he rested on his back, ignoring any wildlife of the ocean as he had no interest in small fry. They didn't get close enough to be caught, wary of the superior predators of the sea, who, unbeknownst to anyone's eyes, looked more like friends hanging out than what they really were—captor and captive.

Despite his annoyance and loud complaining, he looked tired. You had witnessed many a mood of his ever since he decided to hide you away for his own enjoyment, but as of late, every time Lyr visited you, he looked more exhausted than the last. As usual, his eyes were dull, and his dorsal fin collapsed. For an orca in his best years, he looked like he'd been dragged through the blue hell, but it invoked no sympathy inside you. All you could do was listen and observe, but knowing he was the merman responsible for your misery, you felt no pity for your clearly mentally unstable captor. Reaching to his left, Lyr picked another piece of meat from the seal carcass he had hunted, slipping the food into his mouth before continuing his rant.

"Who'd have known that guy had it in him. Can't help but respect him getting the fuck out of the pod, and I'm glad I don't have to see his wannabe goody two-fin face anymore. It's been getting harder to put him in his place with how aggressive he suddenly got."

"Won't they miss him?"

Lyr stopped chewing, his head falling to the side, facing you. Muddy purple eyes sprang to life, reflecting the light as brilliant as rare corals. With one big gulp, he devoured what had been left of his meal, a toothy grin spreading over his lips. "Look who decided to talk! Who's gonna miss him? His mommy? Sure. It's not like she has a dozen more just like him."

For a moment, you held his stare, watched the grin stretch wider, and twisted his expression into a grimace before you lowered your eyes, settling on drawing swirls into the sand. It wasn't like you wanted to have a conversation with him, but listening day in and day out to his crazy rambles and complaints was just as bovine as engaging with the madman.

"That's not very nice. I'm sure his mom loves them all equally. You've got a big family, after all."

"Nah," he retorted, shaking his head. Picking out a bone from the seal's body, he used it as a toothpick, cleaning out the sharp-edged teeth he loved flashing you. "Orcas aren't like yours. We don't love each other just because we share the same blood or come from the same mother. Either you're useful to the pod and do what you're told, or you're at the very bottom of the food chain. I could never be the same as Krill, no matter how hard I tried. He was always Mom's favorite, so now I just don't try anymore. It doesn't even matter to them where I am, but it suits me. Now I got a lot more time to spend with ya!"

Now it was your time to grimace while Lyr flopped onto his side and closer to you, surely noticing the tension growing in your body as you felt appalled by the ever-closing distance. He tossed the bone carelessly into the water while your movements abruptly stopped. You wished it was as easy as the flap of your fin to get away from him, but you were rendered helpless to his touch, unable to get away from his pointed finger dragging over your forearm, his claw teasing your softer skin. He didn't just have the advantage of size, but you knew that no matter how haggard he might appear, you'd be no match against him in a scuffle. Much less now that you were trapped.

And your growling stomach wasn't helping.

While you let out an exasperated groan, Lyr laughed loudly about your misery, finding your dependency on him to not starve hilarious. As much as you despised being at his mercy, you had no choice but to humor him if you wanted to survive, even when he enjoyed your reluctant behavior so much that he held his stomach aching from laughter.

"You could have just told me you're hungry!" he teased, grinning from ear to ear at you while you gave him an ashamed glare, staying silent as a stone in your spot, belly-down in the sand. "I don't mind sharing, ya know? There's still so much of this yummy seal left, it would be a shame to give it to the fish. You know what you gotta do to earn it, right?"

Gritting your teeth, you watched the smugness wash over his expression as he sent you into yet another predicament. You even considered eating a heap of sand instead of bowing to his will. As if being trapped wasn't enough, he just had to exploit you at every chance he got, and you hated how easily your survival instinct made these reckless decisions for you, which he'd never let you live down. The hole in your stomach didn't get any smaller. Lyr's last visit had been a few days already, and you were in no condition to hunt efficiently for yourself. So aside from small, stupid fish that came too close to you, you hadn't eaten outside of his visits, and it was starting to show.

You knew what you had to do. Unfortunately.

No matter how much your brain screamed at you not to, your body knew it instinctively, propping itself onto your forearms while you sighed inwardly, feeling defeated by your needs. Moving was the hardest part about being caught in a net. It was an unusual heavy net with clunky weights that had slung around your fin and lower body, dragging you to the ground where Lyr had found you. Even he had been surprised by the sturdiness of this net when he first inspected it but quickly had taken advantage of the situation, dragging you to this much more hidden place and out of plain sight so he had you all to himself. At least he didn't kill you; that's what you told yourself. But death was more merciful than Lyr, that much you knew by now.

He had no problem being patient when it meant watching you struggle as you dragged yourself toward him. Lyr didn't even mind you digging your meager claws into his skin when you grabbed onto him, using his body to support yourself while you lifted off the ground, close enough to feel his watery breath ghost against your face. Placing your lips over his, you flinched away in reluctance before forcing yourself to keep going, counting to three this time before twisting your head to the side.

Lyr hummed, sounding dissatisfied as you felt his hand brush up your spine. Nesting his palm at the nape of your neck, you refused to look forward again until he twisted his own head to find your lips, his much sharper, much more dangerous claws only curling into place the second he got what he wanted. Now, with an appreciative chortle, he relished in stealing another kiss, tongue swiping over your pursed lips until he found a hole in your defense, worming into your mouth.

You were no stranger when it came to mating habits, but compared to your fellow dolphins, Lyr was surprisingly gentle. He relished in your defiance but seemed to enjoy enticing little moans and gasps from you just as much. His tongue was a choking hazard in a mouth that wasn't fit to house it. Though you had gills, you could barely concentrate on breathing while you fought against him as best as you could. Still, he took his sweet time exploring every inch, letting air flow out of his mouth and into yours, never not considering you while doing what he wanted. He even softened his hold on you, rubbing his palms down your back in a spine-tingling motion when you stopped struggling against him. It was almost like he was rewarding you for good behavior, and it was sickeningly pleasurable.

But the taste of flesh and blood lingering on his tongue made your stomach growl, your body eagerly moving towards him, hoping to find food. All you gained was a chuckle before he nicked your lower lip with his sharp teeth in warning. Your fangs probably wouldn't be able to bite through his thick tongue, but despite this weird obsession he had with you, he was almost more wary of you than you of him. It seemed like he could never cut himself loose completely despite having nothing to fear from an easy target like you. He seemed so relaxed and unbothered whenever he visited you, but it was almost as if he was plagued by invisible ghosts whispering into his ears.

Despite his warning, you found his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you on top of him before you two rolled over to the other side, Lyr resting you gently down in the sand. He didn't care that the net that had trapped you to the ocean floor also got dragged over his tail, unbothered by possibly getting stuck like you were. Perhaps he simply didn't mind that thought as much as you did. To be fair, considering he was much stronger and the material had yet to wrap around and get stuck on his fins like it had with yours, it posed no threat to the orca. And yet, it was infuriating to you, who wanted nothing more than to swim away and reunite with your own kind.

Propping his arm in the sand next to your head, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile and a mischievous spark in his eyes but reached over you, grabbing a piece of seal meat. He brought it up to your lips, dabbing it against them, though you refused to open for him. "I can feed myself just fine," you reminded him, wiggling your hands in the air to demonstrate your ability to hold things before trying to take the food from him.

"Now, don't be ungrateful, or I'll bring you a turtle shell to gnaw on next time."

You could feel your face contort in disgust at his suggestion, reluctantly parting your lips to nib at the food dangling in front of your face. Once you had a taste of meat, your body couldn't resist, gobbling up every last bite hungrily while Lyr kept providing it for you with a smile. If he wasn't fast enough, your teeth would drag over his fingers, but he wouldn't even flinch or scold you, his fin slapping against the sand instead, almost as if he enjoyed your nibbles.

Seal wasn't your preferred food, but in times of food scarcity—like it has ever since getting holed up with Lyr—it was as good as any. The rest of the carcass was devoured faster than your excited stomach wanted, and you still didn't feel satisfied after eating every last piece. Had you been free, you'd have gone hunt for more without a moment of rest. But the gnawing hunger had subsided at least, and if Lyr came back again soon, you'd at least not have to endure it for too long until the next meal.

Pausing your thoughts, you realized you had just longed for Lyr to provide for you again soon, immediately turning the hunger into nausea as you pondered on it.

You were too quiet, too long for his taste as he sought out your lips again after your meal. Brushing his thumb over them, your instinct mistook his finger for more food. You could barely stop yourself from biting into his gnarly claw as the urge to eat won over again. However, your mouth was open long enough as realization dawned on you of what you were doing, for him to cup your face instead, turning it slightly to him so his tongue could lick over your lips and dip in again. Lyr hummed merrily as he tasted the seal on you, unashamed, unbothered by you struggling to keep him out, fingers wrapping around his throat—unsuccessful in deterring him. He was waiting for your breath to run out before taking the chance to deepen the kiss again, ever so patient with you.

"I think I get it now," he mumbled, breaking the kiss before leaving some more superficial brushes of his lips against yours. "Nerrocan was onto something. We just didn't know it."

"Why didn't you go with him then?" you mumbled back, turning your face away to avoid any more unwanted affection, even if it meant resting it in his palm.

To your surprise, Lyr scoffed loudly, and you flinched away as you could feel his mood shift. His palm didn't grow stiff and rigid. However, you still forced yourself away from it, too afraid he might—possibly on accident, but much more likely intentionally—rake his claws over your face, leaving wounds deep and painful. It was useless, however, as he used the same hand to collect your floating hair instead, forcing you to look at him while his gaze drilled into you with fury swirling in his eyes.

"Listen, I might not remember how we got to that place, but I know all the shit they did to us!"

You whimpered as he pulled your hair back, your neck struggling to keep up with his demands from your position. Lyr took a sharp breath, pausing the angry flashing of his fangs as he watched you cowering in front of him, ever so slightly calming down at the sight of fear flashing in your eyes. You hated him when he mocked you and also when he was delighted in your suffering. But you hated his anger more, his haggard body still crushing and his fangs and claws sharp despite whatever he went through. One bite into your throat, and you were a goner, especially with how exposed the soft flesh was to him now.

"I'll never go back there! Never! They cut us open, prod inside us with their disgusting hands, and inject strange fluids into me! They… They changed us. Changed me. And now I don't even know–"

His hand was trembling in your hair as he let out a shuddering breath. You caught his eyes for only a split second, watching the brilliant purple turn into mushy darkness. Lyr shook his head as if confused while his voice trailed off, his free hand rising as he hid his face from you for a moment. You weren't sure if you were supposed to say anything, and even if, what could you say to that? You had no idea what he's been through, and even though you had your fair share of struggles in your life, you never experienced something quite as dramatic as he described. Then again, why would you try to comfort him? Lyr was perfectly able to help you in your time of need but had refused cutting the net for you again and again. Why would you give him kindness if he refused to do the same for you?

Being free of his attention, your eyes fell lower on his body. Just shy of where your tail rested over his. With his tail flipped over, you had a clear view of his collapsed dorsal fin, a pitiful sight for any creature like you. It made you think that something was wrong with him in the first place, as this was an unusual sight on any of your kinds. If what he said was true, maybe this experience had done this to him, understandably so, as it sounded awful. You couldn't bring yourself not to pity him despite your negative feelings towards him.

Next to you, Lyr took a deep breath, pushing his short hair out of his face before he searched for your gaze. Desperately. Needy. Somewhere to ground him. You weren't sure what you saw in the darkened violet, but his features looked drained of vitality, as if the moment of silence had exhausted him completely. It made him look… vulnerable. But then he smiled again, his eyes lit up, and the strange feelings swirling in his irises were covered by excitement as he found yours, soaking in the sight before him.

"I really do get it now," he admitted, grin parting his lips, revealing his protruding upper left fang, the sharpest of them all. "I was so confused about the strange looks Nerrocan gave the human, but I realize I've been the same with ya—whatever it means. I keep coming back here just to see you. I want to stay right here with you, forever. Just us two. I'll hunt for us and make this cave pretty. Whatcha think, lil' dolphin?"

"N-No, I don't think that will work," you mumbled, averting your eyes again as his gaze became too intense to keep up the eye contact. He seemed to drill into you as if to excavate your soul and lay it bare for him to tease and enjoy. You didn't like it one bit when he looked at you so intensely.

You could tell by now that he was working himself into another ramble, but you didn't like how much it focused around you. Usually, he was complaining about his situation in his pod and how much his mom hounded him with expectations. Lately, his rants focused more on the human and Nerrocan and the waves their arrival and disappearance caused in their family. But while he was always strange when it came to you, being the sole focus of his attention felt uncomfortable.

"I'm not sure I understand, but my pod is probably searching for me, and I've been away for so long already. They probably miss me terribly! If- If only I could get the net off, I wouldn't have to bother you at all! I'd be gone before you know it, and you wouldn't have to look after me! I'd be fine! Maybe you can try cutting it again with your claws, or… or maybe--"

Lifting your torso from the ground, you grabbed the net at its highest point, tugging at it and trying to loosen it up. You realized it was you who was rambling this time, but the conversation had taken a turn that you didn't want to make reality at all cost. You couldn't imagine yourself being this guy's pretty little cave warmer for all eternity, preferring the roughness of your own kind over his madness. Orcas weren't known to be gentle housemakers, no matter how much Lyr tried to sell it to you. Not even when he handled you gently, yet never did what you wanted.

However, you were surprised when he reached down to the net, yanking at it with you. A yelp escaped you as he pulled your tail over his, the net cutting into your flesh painfully as he twisted and pulled until you had to fold up your tail, getting more and more caught. Nets usually weren't as much of a problem to sirens, but this one was sturdier and heavier than any fishing net you had encountered in your long life.

So when Lyr caught your hands in it, you began to panic.

"Wait! I'm getting wrapped up in it! Please stop, this isn't helping!" Your plea was ignored as Lyr slung the grating material over your wrists a few more times, ignoring your thrashing and panic with the calm of someone who had all the time in the world. Who had nothing to fear, especially not you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to make him understand you wanted to get out of the net and not strung up in it more until he was done messing with you, flipping you over and pulling you close against him.

"That's not what I meant," you sobbed as he rested his head on top of yours, only cushioned by the arm he lent you as a headrest.

"Isn't this so much better?" he asked, feigning innocence. But you couldn't believe his audacity to make you even more miserable. It was as if he wanted to make you as miserable as he was. "This way, you can't leave without my help. And I doubt your little pod will find you here."

"I just want to go home," you mumbled, anger slowly overtaking as the panic subsided. Your hands were bound tightly, your fin being the one hurting when you tried to lift them and vice versa. You felt truly trapped, and that made you angry rather than sad. It was strange, considering how, just a few minutes ago, you had almost pitied this male, but now, all you felt was rage.

"It's your home, now. Our home. We'll live here, unbothered by others. Just the two of us."

"It's not my home! Let me go!" you snapped, lips pulled back in a snarl. Dolphins were by far not the scariest predators, but your teeth were sharp and threatening as well!

Or so you thought.

Lyr laughed at your display of a threat, seemingly amused that you were still fighting him. Without warning, he raised his hand to your face, squeezing both sides of your jaw until the pressure forced you to open it, and stuck his pointer and middle finger inside. He only needed these two to press your tongue down, your mouth wide agape with his claws scarily close to the back of your throat. You tried to close your jaw, bite down until he'd retract his hand, but Lyr didn't care. He didn't even mind your teeth digging into his flesh, leaving cute little cuts against his slick skin.

"Careful, lil' dolphin. You're not in a position to make such scary demands of me, don't you know that already? I could kill ya."

Unafraid of getting hurt, the pressure on your lower jaw increased, fingers purposely impaling themselves on your teeth while pain made you jolt as you felt your jaw dislodging slowly. You wiggled your trapped body, gurgling against his fingers before finally looking up at him as best as possible from your position, noticing the smug grin on his face.

"I won't, of course."

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, dragging out the motion until the last moment, you coughed, the taste of his blood on your tongue. There was no time to recover as Lyr nuzzled his face into the side of yours, oblivious to the thrumming in your jaw as you tried to relax it while the blood flow resumed.

"You're too much fun alive, so I won't kill you," he admitted, grabbing your hands that rested against your chest and pulling them down, elevating some of the strain on your tail, and you finally breathed out. "But if you want to get rid of the net, maybe we can find a way to make this even more fun?"

You felt his lips sink to your cheek, your jawline, then trailing down your neck. A kiss for every one of your gills. The water around you was gentle and warm, but at that moment, it was like jumping into the ice-cold ocean after sunbathing on the surface, shocking and shivering through every bone of yours.

While the arm your head rested on wrapped around your collarbones, holding on to your shoulder, the other hand started to wander lower. His fingers played around with the net, cutting through some of the squares until he could stick his hand through it, placing his palm on your stomach before sinking it dangerously low and pulling your hands down with it. So you wouldn't be able to grasp his arm on top, trying to make him stop as Lyr nibbled on your earlobe, the protruding fang drawing blood that he licked up without hesitation.

"Stop that!" you complained as his touch grew uncomfortably intimate, the pain in your jaw reverberating as you spoke. It had long dawned on you what his definition of 'fun' was, but you weren't as naive as to believe he'd actually stick to his word and cut you loose after getting what he wanted. It was better not to risk it than risk it for nothing. Your kind wasn't known to be gentle to their chosen lovers, but you never thought about mating with an orca. It wasn't normal! Wasn't what you were made to do! And if you were to survive it… you didn't want to think of the carnage that all of him would leave behind on your body.

If his size was any indication, you were sure you couldn't take him without getting absolutely ruined in the process—and not the pleasurable kind of destroyed. More the ripped apart and bleeding out type.

His hand found your slit, fingertip brushing lightly yet incessantly over it, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. You whimpered, ashamedly so, but instead of the expected mockery, you felt his chest rumble, a purr reaching your ears. It was soothing, relaxing, his body warming you from behind even as you desperately tried to deny feeling anything from his touch.

But Lyr wasn't stingy with his surprises.

A chirp so oddly familiar resounded behind you, yet you were sure you had never heard that voice before. It took you a moment of complete stillness to realize it had been Lyr making that sound, yet it wasn't orca. It was dolphin. "How did you…?" you gasped, ignoring his inquisitive fingers prodding at your entrance, begging to be let in without having to use force.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, lil' dolphin," he hummed, imitating some more whistles and clicks that were perfect and comforting, like the calls of your pod, yet were spoken by an uncanny voice. You felt the tears well up in our eyes again, as you couldn't help but gasp, following it with a moan, his finger slipping into you, teasing the soft, warm flesh awaiting him there. Lyr let out an appreciative sound that made your core clench with desire, all praise and all dolphin for letting him in.

"You don't even like me," you gasped, hands wringing in the net. You were completely and utterly caught in this trap, and he had free range to your body while slowly gaining access to your very soul by imitating your own kind's calls of desire and adoration. Lyr's mouth pulled taut in a big grin as he felt you unwillingly relax and shudder in his arms, your tail buckling into his hand. You looked up to see the madness dance with satisfaction and need in his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you.

"That's where you're wrong, lil' dolphin," he chuckled, kissing you one more time, long and with relish, his fingers playing with you, adding one after the other as you loosened up to him, exploring the depths not meant for an orca.

"I like you very, very much."

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theaawalker · 1 year ago

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Something to Feel, Something Real [Finnick Odair Smut]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x male!reader Song Inspo: Call Me By Your Name by Lil Nas X Word Count: 1,394 Summary: You've seen Finnick around, often through pitying eyes, but haven't spoken to him. The times you have seen, he's either with a client (flirting) or leaving them (shaking with shame, rage, and disgust). You decide to make him feel something real and mutually pleasurable. Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), emotional build-up, MxM, one-shot, begging, substance usage, cursing, narrator pov Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly) A/N: This is not attached to "I Promise", my other Finnick imagine. The second part will be here shortly. Just adding a little twist to the end. *smirks villainously* In the meantime, here's some gay smut to tickle your tentacles. Peep the easter egg tho ;)

You and Finnick have your first real conversation when he’s arriving back at the Tribute center one night after spending an upsetting few hours with one of Snow’s clients. He’s in a foul mood, anger bordering on despair and self-hatred, still feeling the ghosts of unwanted fingers on his body, when he steps into the elevator and finds you smoking a joint.

"Shit, shit!” you curse, hiding the joint up your sleeve and coughing, waving your hands in the air like you can disperse the smell. “Sorry, someone was smoking in here before,” you lie.

Finnick can’t help himself. He laughs. “Give me a hit and I won’t tell anyone.”

You share the joint in the elevator, not hitting any button to go up to either of your floors. The chatter comes easy with both of you, but it’s not long before you’re stepping over friendly small talk into a genuine conversation about the wild shit you’ve seen in the Capitol and in your case, at home, too. District 2 loves to rub elbows with the Capitol, something you despise. Your comparisons and imitations have Finnick barking laughter.

During one of the lulls in conversation, he takes in your face and form, basking in the fact that he’s responsible for the smile on your face right now. He’d like to get to know you better, and fuck it, maybe he’s a little horny right now, too.

“Come to my floor?” he asks, the joint between his fingers. He takes a slow drag, watching you.

You stare at his lips as he exhales. God, the high must be hitting because all you want to do is cover his lips with yours. Like, it’s the only thought rattling around in your peanut brain. His lips curl into a smile and--Oh, shit. He asked you a question.

“Sure,” you answer.

One expression Finnick identifies all too easily is lust. And he sees it plain on your face. “Then let’s go.”

Finnick leads you to the lounge on the fourth floor, well away from the bedrooms. The giant windows let in light from the Capitol’s nightlife.

“I miss the stars,” you say once you’re both settled next to each other on a loveseat. “It’s not like there are a ton of them back home with all the light pollution, but still. There are more than here.”

Finnick gazes at the dark sky. “You should come to District 4 sometime. You can see the entire Milky Way. And instead of listening to all those cars you listen to the ocean. And you can forget everything for a few moments.”

Despite the lounge being much, much larger than the elevator, this feels far more intimate. Finnick and you face each other, your eyes flicking to his lips. He’s the Capitol sex icon and has always acted like an absolute peacock on camera, but you’ve seen him trying so hard mentoring his own tributes and taking care of Mags. There’s a lot more depth to him than what the cameras show. And you like the bits he shows off camera far, far more. Those bits are coming out tonight; a funny, deeply caring, deeply hurt young man with a vast capacity for kindness.

When he came into the elevator, he looked positively miserable and so, so defeated. Like he had been stomped on and ground down. You wanted to make him smile, a real smile, but then you couldn’t stop at just one, and now here you are. You know about his and Snow’s “arrangement”. You also know you can treat him better than any of the “clients” do even when they’re trying, and you wonder if he’ll let you treat him like that.

Your intense stare has Finnick shifting, feeling a few degrees hotter than before.

“Can I kiss you?” you finally ask, voice low. If there’s one thing being a Career has taught you, it’s to grab at any opportunity you see. Finnick swallows. “Yes,” he croaks. “Please.”

You lean forward and capture his lips, one hand on the back of the couch and the other securely in your lap. You’re close and leaning into him, but not holding him. The restraint surprises him at first. But he’s grateful for it and he relaxes. He sinks into the kiss, his own hands venturing to fist in your shirt collar and hold you there. You let him lead, let him feel your arms and touch your face and chest, but never move your own hands from their position, just pour your all into your lips against his.

The lights flick on. You and Finnick snap apart like a rubber band snapping back into shape. It’s Mags. She looks between you both with wide eyes before a mischevious smile breaks across her face. “No, no, Mags,” Finnick protests.

She winks, grinning, and flicks the lights back off. She exits.

Finnick groans. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

You grin and wink. “Well, if you’re never going to hear the end of it, we may as well make it worth it, right?”

His seafoam eyes lock on yours, an eyebrow lifting. He smirks. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, “I’d like to suck you off.”

All thoughts leave his head and all blood flows straight to his groin. For once, he’s speechless. No one has ever offered this before. All the people he spends time with want his attention on them, want him to fawn over them, wants him to boost their egos with his attention. And if they did off, he’d wonder what they want in return. Exactly like he’s wondering right now. He should ask, but his brain is too focused on the thought of your lips around his dick. Does he really care what happens after as long as he gets what he wants, first?

At his silence you withdraw. “Only if you want me to, of course,” you add. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable.

“Yes,” he hastily replies. “Yes. I’d love you to suck me off.”

That affirmation is all you need. You kneel in front of him and slowly unzip his pants, revealing plain boxers beneath. Finnick watches you, his heart pounding. With agonizingly slow movements, you touch his length and guide it through the gap in his boxers. He grips the cushions of the loveseat as you lick up the underside of his member, from the base to the tip. Your tongue is deliciously wet. Finally, you take Finnick into your mouth and work him slow, slow, slow. One hand balls into a fist on his leg and the other slips in your hair. He moans, a low sound that barely reaches your ears.

You can’t believe no one has ever done this before. You’ve barely started, and he looks absolutely wrecked and so goddamned pretty. His head falls back against the loveseat and he lets out a shaky breath.

Fisting him, you take your mouth off to quip, “Have I made the Finnick Odair speechless?”

He huffs a laugh, meeting your gaze. “Just wait until I have you on your back and—oh.” His words end in a strangled moan as you suck his head. You ease him a little bit further into the rhythm before you deep-throat him. By then both hands tangle in your hair and he’s whimpering and trembling, muscles taut. “Fuck. Fuck.” It’s so warm, so hot, feels so, so good.

He comes shortly after, cock hot and stiff in your mouth, his entire body rigid. As he comes down from his high he melts into the couch, both his hands gently tugging at your head. “Get up,” he pants. You comply and stand, bracing your arms on either side of his head, and kiss him. There it is again, that restraint.

“Touch me,” he moans. “Please.” He might combust if you don’t.

You obey and cup his cheeks. His hands mimic yours, holding your face to his while you kiss. His stomach feels warm and body completely relaxed, for once completely in the moment, his brain pleasantly quiet.

He opens his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You press your forehead to his, cheeks hot. God, there’s so much you want to do to him, with him, but not tonight. “You can go to bed and get a full night’s sleep,” you answer.

What? He knows he heard you right, but what? “That’s not what I meant,” he says hesitantly. You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

“I know.” You brush back a lock of his hair. “And as much as I’d like to fuck you or you fuck me and make out well into the morning, you taking care of yourself is what I want the most. Can you promise me you’ll do that?”

Finnick can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “I promise.” He feels almost bashful. How do you know what he needs? Beneath your soft gaze he feels vulnerable and open, and while it’s foreign, it’s not unwelcome.

You smile at him, a brilliant smile that lights up the night. “Thank you.”

You’re thanking him. You just gave him a blowjob and you’re thanking him. Who the fuck are you?

After exchanging a few more minutes of sweet nothings, you leave to head to your floor. Finnick stays on the loveseat a while longer, smiling, watching the twinkling lights of the Capitol. The content expression gradually falls from his face and he sinks into the reality that is his life. At least this has been a sliver of good in what is his constant parade of masking for the Capitol. Maybe he can have a few more of those slivers when you’re around. He’s certainly going to try to grab the chances when they present themselves.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

Check out my upcoming high-fantasy series

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if-you-heart · 2 months ago

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A small ramble on Canon vs Fanon, alternatively titled; Hey! You’re part of the “Fanon”! Now what?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot as of recent, I just haven’t had the time to properly jot my thoughts down. I like to put a generous distance between myself and the fanbase that comes with basically any piece of media I get into, and this also goes for the fandom that’s been built around CCCC and the rest of Chonny Jash’s albums. Don’t get me wrong, there are some lovely people here from whom I’ve interacted with (and from how far I’ve been willing to stick my head out of my own little crevice in this place), but I’ve noticed that, unfortunately, this album isn’t free from what’s been happening in more “recent” fandoms.

This isn’t me stoning anyone specifically. This is purely a generalized observation I’ve made during the (checks calendar) 8 or so months I’ve been floating around this space. same goes for every other fandom I check in on.

One of the biggest things l've come to notice the most is how the line between "canon" and "fanon" seems to be blurring more and more each day. Especially here. CCCC is first and foremost an album covering another album. Things are not explicitly narrated like a storyline you'd see in a movie or something. That doesn't mean there isn't a story to be told, but a lot of it is more up the air than most media out there right now. To my knowledge, certain events/incidents that appear to be a staple in many interpretations that I’ve seen (including my own!) only exist because of how the fanbase perceived the narration inside the songs. Which in of itself isn’t a bad thing at all— I’ve seen some really creative stuff from artists who connect to the album purely for how it describes the struggles of mental health and simply being in a bad place.

HOWEVER. There comes a point where I think it’s necessary that a line be drawn..! I’m mostly talking about the ridiculous amount of gore and torture I’ve seen in the depths here.

I have absolutely nothing against gore by itself. I’m a Resident Evil fan of all things. it does not bother me. However, there is one crucial thing to keep in mind when indulging in media of varying… maturity ratings. And that is that there is a TIME and a PLACE where such content should be the main focus in fanmade work. For example, there is a lot of fanart and writing surrounding the topic of absolutely horrific levels of torture here. Which is very disconcerting to me! Because there is nothing, and I mean NOTHING whatsoever in any of these songs that even imply the idea of, say, soul beating heart and mind with a long sock filled with quarters (pretend that example is some jigsaw level torture scenario or something because I ain’t typing allat). There’s already a lot of dark themes in the album. Why we stackin em now? Are we listening to the same album??

And I’m not talking about this just because I went “oh…that’s gore of my comfort character.” a couple dozen times now. I sincerely think that a lot of people sort of forgot that this album is a vent album. Made by a real guy. Venting about his own poor mental health. It’s great that people can connect to the characters in CCCC because they may feel the same way that they do, but I don’t think anyone would appreciate seeing the characters they constructed to express the nuance of mental health and coming to accept every part of themselves absolutely mauling each other like bloodlusted gorillas. It kinda takes away from the point of self acceptance at the end of the album if you ask me.

This does not mean every single part of the fandom is bad. not at all. There just happens to be a lot of bizarre shit here. however, just because you may not agree with these more violent interpretations does not mean you aren’t a part of the “fanon”. I think a lot of people try to vehemently deny that they fall under the fanon category (and denounce it altogether) because of the negativity surrounding the term fanon now. But truth be told, if you’ve made your own fan interpretation/au with a storyline based off of the songs, with creative liberties taken, you are part of the fanon group. This is not always a bad thing! In fact it’s better to embrace this so newer fans who are getting into CCCC and such don’t immediately think certain fanmade events/headcanons are real things that occur in the album. Because it eventually turns into a game of telephone for those who do not communicate that these aren’t canon, and then we’re back at square one.

I’m by no means the headcanon police. Do whatever the hell you want. Just be courteous and mindful about what you’re putting out there maybe.

Moral of the story, maybe listen to the album all the way through a couple more times. And please, do NOT trust genius lyric annotations, I am BEGGING you.

#cccc #chonny jash #chonny’s charming chaos compendium #hms #heart cj #mind cj #soul cj #canon vs fanon #this is just me yammering honestly #don’t know if any of it makes any sense but all opinions are welcome #I like discussions :-)#also apolocheese if I am not the best writer #I wanna get my thoughts out #that does not mean I’m gonna be the best at it #but i hope it makes sense #okay that’s all I’ll get back to posting stupid doodles now

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dreamingofep · 7 months ago

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Forbidden Love pt. 2 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, TENSION, kissing, grinding, fingering

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Hello everyone! I had originally wrote all of this part out a few months ago because this is where the idea sprang from! There’s so much more to uncover and this part definitely needs to be in Elvis’ perspective later on so be on the lookout for that. 🤭

Here are the songs I included in this part too! Listen if you haven’t heard “I’ll Never Let You Go (Little Darlin’)” It’s so sweet and I just pictured Elvis singing this soft and low on the piano. 🥹

If you'd like to read any of my other fics, start here or Ao3!

Hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

September 21, 1958

Your heart was heavy as you walked up the driveway. The house was illuminated by the lawn lights and the hum of people inside grew the closer you got to it. Graceland was always so beautiful, especially at night. The large Corinthian columns were so stunning and made the whole house stand out. It was made for Elvis you thought. No ordinary man could live here. It had to be someone as grand and special as Elvis Presley was.

You walk up the steps to the front door and take a deep breath. Emotions were flowing through you today. You were going to say goodbye to one of your favorite people. Elvis was always there for you, in good times and bad, he would always listen. He was supposed to be gone for two years in the army. It couldn’t have been a worse time to be drafted. He was at the top of all the charts and his career was just taking off. You two had gotten close the last two years or so. You think it was a way to ground Elvis and keep him connected with the real world. You both loved to hang out with each other's family and have barbecues together.

Now all of that was going to change. He was leaving and you knew you’d be a wreck without him. You don’t have a lot of friends as it is. But Elvis was special. There was no replacing him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry at this party. Elvis wanted everyone to have a good time and not think of it as his goodbye party. You took a deep breath before you decided to go in the house. You smoothed out your pale pink dress and opened the front door.

The entire house was lively and some of the people that were standing by the stairs greeted you. Your eyes frantically search for Elvis. You wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he left. Walking to the kitchen, you set down the bottle of champagne you brought. One of Elvis's housekeepers hugs you and tells you she’ll open the bottle for you. Someone hands you a flute already filled with champagne and you graciously take it.

The bubbly drink danced on your tongue and went down smoothly. You squeeze your way through the sea of people and continue to search for Elvis. There had to be over fifty people crammed into the first floor of the house. You accidentally bump into a taller man and apologize for that. You decide to ask him if he knew where Elvis was. He has this awe-struck look in his eyes as he looks at you. You silently roll your eyes at him, you didn’t want to talk to him, all you wanted to do was spend time with Elvis.

“I uhh… I don’t know. But you can hang out with me. I’m John, you’re y/n right?” He asks. You don’t have the patience to be making small talk with anyone tonight but you fear this guy won’t get the message.

“Yeah, I am,” you say as you keep looking for Elvis and taking another sip of champagne.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around here. How long have you known Elvis?” He asks. You sigh unamused, you weren’t in the mood to have another one of Elvis’ friends hitting you. Maybe you would have actually given it a shot if it was another night but it was not the right time at all. Your mind was so focused on getting to Elvis.

“Quite a while. He’s my best friend,” you say flatly.

“Well, that’s something you and I have in common. He and I go way back. Can I get you another glass of champagne?” He asks pointing to your glass.

To get through this conversation with you, I’m going to need ten, you think annoyed.

“Yeah sure,” you say flatly, creeping your way in slowly to the living room. You stretch on your tippy toes to see if you can spot Elvis. He was almost always the tallest one in a crowd and you hoped you’d get a glimpse of his dark black hair. It was useless because all you see are other people’s heads and couldn’t see anything else. You huffed annoyed, time was ticking by and you hadn’t even greeted Elvis yet.

You get tapped on your shoulder and you look up to find John with another champagne glass in his hand.

“Thanks, see you around,” you say as you quickly push your way into the crowd and make your escape from the annoying man.

The sound of the piano fills the living room and you just know that Elvis is the one playing on it. He did that so often at parties. He played so beautifully and loved to entertain even though it was his party. You finally squeeze yourself to the very front and see him. He looked so happy with all his friends around the piano waiting for him to burst out in song. He wore a white short-sleeved button-up that was ruffled on the chest and tucked into white pants. He cut his hair the shortest you’d ever seen it for boot camp but he still looks so handsome.

His attention gets torn from his friends and he catches a glimpse of you. His face lights up when he sees you and instantly gets up from the piano bench.

“There’s my favorite girl! Where have you been?” He asks excitedly, scooping you up in his arms and squeezing you tight. You can’t help but smile and giggle softly as you feel how happy he was to have you here.

“I’ve been looking all over for you! You’re impossible to find in your own house,” you giggle.

He gently sets you down and looks at your outfit, taking your hand in his. “And you look like a million bucks too!” He says twirling you around. “Thank you for coming. I’m so glad you’re here!” He says gleefully.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it!” You say with a smile.

“Perfect timing too. I was just about to play some songs, and you get to sing with me,” he says cheekily, pulling you onto the piano bench with him. You get extremely nervous, you do not like to be in a crowd of people and have the main focus on you.

“Oh no no no Elvis please I cannot sing,” you say nervously, trying to scoot away from him.

He wraps his arm around your waist and keeps you right next to him.

“Oh no, you’re not running away from me. You just got here! Come on, please sing with me. I love it when you do,” he pleads. He looks at you with soft eyes and a cute cheeky smile. God, you couldn’t say no to this man even if you tried.

You sigh defeated, “Okay fine. Only for a few songs, and then I’m hiding in the corner again,” you say jokingly, taking another sip of champagne. He lets out a big boisterous laugh, bringing his hands to the piano’s keys, and plays a few chords to warm up. He plays so effortlessly, stretching his long fingers across the ivories.

Well it’s one for the money

Two for the show

Three to get ready now go cat go

But don’t you step on my Blue Suede Shoes…

He radiates so much energy when he sings. There’s no way anyone could have a straight face while he performs. A huge smile forms on your face and you start clapping along to the beat. He bumps your shoulder to join in and you sing along with him softly. His mood is contagious and you can’t say no to him and join in.

The longer he plays, the less nervous you become. You don’t pay attention to any of the surrounding people in the living room. Song after song, it felt like it was just you and Elvis singing to each other. Or he was just singing to you. You honestly lost track of time as he continued to play more songs and you kept drinking your champagne. And come to think of it, you lost track of how many drinks you had too. But you didn’t care, you were having too much fun singing with Elvis. He was handed a few drinks and he was drinking them too. It surprised you because he normally never drank but the mood in here was so joyful and fun, you were sure he didn’t care tonight.

Before you knew it, the living room was slowly clearing out and the house was getting increasingly quieter. People were saying their goodbyes to Elvis and telling him how much they’d miss him. Some of the guys were going to go out driving and invited you both to join them, but Elvis wanted to stay here. You didn’t want to leave either, every second you had with him was precious.

It was past 1 am and Elvis started playing slower ballads while humming the tune. You could sit next to him for hours listening to him play. You were entranced by the way he played, how his fingers almost danced over the keys and the most melodious sounds rang out. You put down the last glass of champagne down and felt your head spin a bit. You tried not to focus on it too much and tried to draw your attention back to Elvis.

I’ll never let you go little darlin’

I’m so sorry, ‘cause I made you cry

I’ll never let you go because I love you

So please don’t ever say goodbye…

He plays the song so beautifully, letting the chords ring out fully before he sings the next line. You wish you could snap a picture of this moment and never let it fade away in your memory. Sitting here, listening to him sing a ballad as it pulls at your heartstrings. You were going to miss him so much. He wasn’t going to be down the street from you anymore. You couldn’t just stop by to see how he was. He was going to be thousands of miles away, in a different country, on a different continent. You promised yourself you weren’t going to cry, but you feel the tears well in your eyes as he finishes the song. Damn, the alcohol getting the best of you and your emotions.

Because I love you, pretty baby

I’m so sorry ‘cause I made you cry

I made you cry

Yeah, I’ll never let you go

“Cause I love you, little baby

So please don’t ever say good-bye

He finishes the song so beautifully and you both sit there in silence. A few tears were rolling down your cheeks and you don’t bother to wipe them away. He looks over at you and sees your tear-filled eyes.

“Aww y/n, what’s wrong? Why you cryin’?” He asks as he gently turns your head towards him. His thumbs gently wipe the rolling tears off of your face but that only makes it worse. You take a deep breath before speaking and try to hold it together.

“I’m just… I’m just going to miss you,” you say weakly. He instantly pulls you into his arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck. He rubs your back, trying to soothe you through your cries.

“I know, I am too. It’s going to be so different,” he admits.

“I don’t want you to go. You’re my best friend. Who am I going to talk to now?” You sob, holding onto his shirt.

“You’ll still have me. Write to me any time you want or put on one of my records when you’re lonely. Think of it as though I’m singin’ to you and only you. I love singin’ for you,” He coos. Your tears continue to pour down your face. That thought was too much. You couldn’t fathom the idea that the only way you were going to be able to hear his voice was on a record. You didn’t realize how spoiled you were that you could hear him sing right next to you any time you wanted.

You lift your head up off of him and nod your head. You look into his own tear-filled eyes and somehow his eyes look more blue and mesmerizing. Your head felt light after all the champagne but you didn’t care. Nothing could tear your focus away from Elvis right now. He wipes your tears away once more as his own fall down his cheeks.

“And what do I do if I find myself missin’ you?” He asks through sniffles.

You search for the right thing to say, not exactly sure what to say in a moment like this. You had nothing to offer Elvis. He was the man who had everything even though you both were so young. You look down at your hands, unsure what to do, and see your heart-shaped ring on your ring finger. It was something you found at a little boutique downtown. The band was gold with a black heart that had a sun and a small little diamond in the center. You thought it was cute and a nice find. You slide it off and lift it up for Elvis to see.

“Then you take this with you. I’ll always be with you if you have this,” you say softly. He carefully takes it out of your hand and looks at it closely. He looks up at you in disbelief.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take something so valuable to you,” you waivers.

“No please, I insist. It’s the least I could give,” you sniffle.

He pulls you in for another hug, squeezing you tighter than he ever has before. You so desperately wanted to freeze time so you could live in this moment forever. You didn’t want to let go of him. You were terrified he would come back from the Army and become a totally different person. But you had to stop thinking that, just enjoy these last few moments with him.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” he murmurs.

“Me too,” you say weakly.

“Don’t forget about me,” he whispers into your ear.

“Oh God I could never,” you tell him.

He breaks away from you, looking deeply into your eyes and placing his hand on your cheek. His thumb glides back and forth along your cheek and sighs to himself. You aren’t normally so close to him like this and can see so clearly how gorgeous he is. You swore his eyes sparkled when they looked at you. His nose was perfect and his skin was flawless. You watch as his eyes drift down to your lips and you do the same. Maybe you never consciously thought about it, but his lips were beautiful like the rest of him. They were full and plump with a soft pink color to them. They looked soft and pillowy almost.

You can feel your breathing hitch in your throat the longer you stare at him. His hands tighten around your body but are still very gentle as though he’s afraid he’s going to break you. He leans in ever so slowly, biting his lower lips as he does so.

“Good, me too…I can’t forget you even if I tried,” he murmurs sensually.

The tension he is giving off makes your head spin more and you can’t wait any longer. You lean into him and crash your lips into his.

He felt like heaven. Each kiss was tender and soft and yet there was so much urgency behind it. You were right, his lips were softer than you could have ever imagined, and felt like you were kissing pillows. You can’t catch your breath as you both kiss each other with more passion. His hands roamed up and down your back, clutching onto the material of your dress. Oh, those hands, they felt so good on you. They were addictive and you wished you could feel them on your skin instead. You had no idea you needed his attention like this.

You boldly slip your hand into his shirt, feeling the soft chest hairs that resided there. He responds with a soft pleased groan into your mouth. Your heart races in your chest, not believing that this is happening right now. You felt on fire with the way he was kissing you. He was so needy and desperate for your attention as his hands kept moving along your body. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you both groan when he does so. You had never thought you needed him like this, you were always so adamant about staying friends. Maybe things could be different…

There was a throbbing developing in between your legs and was only growing worse by the second. It was so different than other times you’ve felt this way. You had felt this way in private moments by yourself but with Elvis, it was amplified to a whole other degree. Your chest heaves and you feel yourself become more needy. You slowly stand up and try to get Elvis to do the same thing. He breaks the kiss and looks at you a little perplexed. You push him backward to the couch that is right behind the piano. He quickly sits and stares up at you wide-eyed. He smooths out his pants and spreads his legs apart slightly. Your eyes drift to his long legs and how good he looks like this. He just exuded sensuality and temptation without even trying.

You notice how his length was hard and pushing up against his pants. Oh God, you’ve never felt more needy in your life. You wanted to feel what he was like underneath you. You quickly straddle his hips and scrunch up your dress before sitting down on him. Your core rests on top of his length and the heat from him makes it hard to breathe. You let out a small groan as you feel him underneath you. The straps of your dress slide off your shoulders and you’re left looking at Elvis’ luring eyes.

You both don’t say anything, just the sounds of your labored breaths fill the room. His hands drift from your back to the front of your body, gently cupping your breasts in his hands. You whimper softly, loving the way his hands feel on you. You look down as he does this, watching how his hands consume your soft breasts and have you reeling for more. He sighs as he continues to touch you, looking up at you with an awed gaze. You needed his lips once more and leaned in to kiss him again. The kisses somehow got even better with his hands on you like this. Your arms wrap around his neck and feel his soft hair with your fingertips.

Something instinctual takes over your body and your hips begin to move on him, grinding your core onto his hardened length. A bolt of electricity runs through you as you begin to move. You had no idea something like this could feel so satisfying. You break the kiss and gasp out, needing breath more than ever. Elvis lets out a deep groan and lets his head fall back with his eyes closed. Another wave of pleasure runs through you seeing him like this. He looked so attractive with satisfaction running through both you and him. His eyes pop back open with his mouth falling open slightly.

“Oh God honey… that feels so good,” he moans.

Honey.

Oh God he had never called you that before. Hearing that come from his lips made you feel like the actual word; a sweet sticky mess.

You nod your head at him and whimper in agreement as your breathing hitches. You keep eye contact with him as your core continues to throb with every movement of your hips.

“Elvis,” you whine.

He nods his head at you, his hands slithering to your back and grabbing handfuls of your ass. He helps you grind into him harder, his hands helping your hips move back and forth onto him. You gasp loudly, loving how this feels.

“I know honey, I know,” he groans, “You feel so good on my cock,” he whimpers into your ear.

You helplessly moan at just his words. You hold onto him tighter and move more as he helps you. The friction of your panties against his slacks made a coil in your belly form and it tightens with every move. You couldn’t get enough of him. You didn’t want to stop having him make you feel this way. He stills you and you look at him with needy eyes.

He takes one of his hands and moves it to the front of your body. He scrunches the material of your dress in his hand and looks up a you with pleading eyes.

“Can I touch you?” He asks softly. You nod your head quickly and help him lift up your dress. His fingertips graze your mound and move down to your folds. Wetness had pooled in your panties and you squirmed underneath him. Elvis moves his fingers slowly, taking his time exploring you.

“Jesus honey you’re soaked,” he groans. Your hips move with his curious fingers and moan in agreement. You feel his finger pull your panties to the side and continue to slide them through your wet folds. You cuss softly, loving how he’s making you feel. He pulls you in for a kiss again and you both moan when you feel each other’s lips. He puts more pressure on your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. Your body jolts forward with each touch and you are more breathless than you thought possible. You stare at him in awe as your pleasure builds and builds. He has a pleased smirk on his face as he watches you grind on his hand. You couldn’t imagine you could feel this good but it’s somehow possible with Elvis.

Your hands quickly work the buttons of his shirt and spread it open. You then work your way down to his pants and fidget with the button and slide down the zipper. Elvis stills you, not letting you go any further.

“Honey, wait,” Elvis sighs.

“Please, I want you,” you whimper.

“I know, so do I,” he grumbles into your neck.

“Please… please make me feel good. I want you,” you plead, grinding your hips onto him again. He lets out a loud groan, unable to denounce how good you feel. You move back a bit and your hand finds his length. You rub it softly, feeling how much heat is coming off of him and how it is throbbing from your touch. Your head spun when you felt him, you needed him more than anything.

“Please honey, please. Make love to me,” you beg, looking up at him with needy eyes, your hands scratching down his arms. He looks at you in awe. He reacts to you like he’s never heard such beautiful words in his life. He looks like he’s feeling just as weak as you and his hand slowly comes out from underneath your dress.

His demeanor suddenly becomes sorrowful and melancholy. He lowers his gaze and shakes his head somberly.

“I can’t honey. We can’t right now,” he says low.

You can’t help but feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. Being rejected by him hurt. You could have sworn he wanted you just the same.

He can see how you’re a bit hurt and taken aback by his words.

“It’s not that I don’t want to honey. Trust me, I would love to as you can see,” he says as he glances down at his hard length. “It’s just not the right time. I don’t want you regretting this kind of thing. I don’t want it to be because I’m leavin’ tomorrow,” he explains.

“It’s not because of that I just-,” you try to insist but end up stopping yourself, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked for sucha thing,” you say embarrassed. You quickly get off of him and stand wobbly. Your head spins more than you were prepared for and almost stumble sideways. Elvis thankfully grabs you and holds you upright.

“I gotcha, it’s okay. I don’t mean to make you feel bad honey. You need to know I loved every second of that,” he says sweetly, taking your face in his hands and placing a soft, tender kiss on your lips. You sigh at the feeling once more, not wanting to forget how this feels. You gently pull away and take a deep breath.

“I guess I should be going,” you tell him.

“Oh no, you should not be driving like this. Just stay the night,” he insists.

You didn’t have any fight left in you and you just nodded your head. He keeps his arm around your waist and leads you up the stairs with him. It was a challenge walking up those stairs while the whole world was spinning. He opens his bedroom door and helps you in.

His bedroom was warm and inviting. It smelled like him and made you want to put that scent into a candle. He turns on the lamp by his bed and you get a better view of the room. Most of his furnishings were black and there were piles of books on his dresser and on his nightstand.

He’s such a little bookworm.

You glance at the clock on the wall and it is past two. You feel his arms go around your waist again and he steps in front of you.

“Did you want to go to the bathroom or anything? Or would you rather lie down?” He asks you.

“I’ll just lay down,” you say sleepily. He nods his head and turns to pull back the sheets for you. You reach your hand at the back of your dress as he does this and struggle to find the zipper. You let out frustrated little sighs and he turns back to face you, concerned with what you’re doing.

“Help me unzip this dress please,” you say defeated as you turn around and lift up your hair. Elvis doesn’t say anything, all you can feel is his fingers gently pull on the zipper and drag it down to the small of your back. He turns you around and he has that needy look in his eye. You reach up on your tippy toes to give him a small peck on the lips. You can feel the smile forming on his face as you do this. You step around him and go to the bed. Before stepping in, you let your dress fall at your feet and quickly get underneath the sheets. They were soft and silky and the heavy comforter made it feel extra cozy.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, honey. You let me know if you need anything,” Elvis tells you. You slowly roll over and give him a pouty face.

“No please, stay with me. You can sleep with me,” you insist. He looks like he’s going to denounce this request but you don’t let him. You hold the sheets across your chest and pull at his hand.

“Please, Elvis. I want you to sleep in your own bed before you leave,” you plead.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and nods his head.

“Okay, let me change real quick,” he says. You smile sweetly at him and close your eyes as you wait for him. The room still felt wobbly but lying down did feel better. You hear Elvis sift through his closet and walk back into the room fully changed. The shift of weight in the bed made your eyes pop back open to watch him get into bed. He was shirtless with only his underwear on. He was still hard and could clearly see the outline of his cock in these. You tried to subside the needy feeling you had for him and just focus on sleep.

He lays down and gets underneath the sheet with you but leaves plenty of space between the two of you. You grumble annoyed, wanting him to get comfortable in his own bed.

You scoot closer to him, laying your head on his chest.

“You can get closer to me, I don’t bite,” you giggle.

He chuckles softly to himself, “oh good I was worried about that,” he teases.

You feel his arms wrap around you as you start to close your eyes again. You had never felt so safe and comforted in someone’s arms before.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he whispers.

“Mhmm, me too,” you slur sleepily.

“Don’t forget about me,” he says softly.

“Never,” you hum as you let the dark blanket of sleep take over.

The crack of sunlight shone in through the curtains making your eyes flutter open. You stretch your limbs and feel the soft silky sheets wrapped around you. Your eyes instantly pop open when you realize these do not feel like your sheets at home.

“Shit,” you say as you sit up quickly in the bed.

You look around and realize you’re in Elvis’ bedroom. You clutch the sheets around your chest and look down to realize you’re practically naked underneath them. Your heart hammers away, trying to scramble to remember what happened last night.

Did we? No, we couldn’t have… you think to yourself. You feel you still have your panties on and see your dress crinkled on the floor next to the bed. You try to recollect last night’s events as best you can. You remember singing with Elvis on the piano, smiling and laughing at him. Then you remember those eyes. Those beautiful, seductive blue eyes peering into yours with an intense blazing heat… how good he felt underneath you as he moaned your name. The need that grew inside of you to have him take care of you in a way you didn’t know existed.

But he stopped you… telling you that it wasn’t the right time. Your heart drops. That’s right, he stopped you from going any further. You sat there wishing he took care of you. Fulfilled the need he created inside of you. It still lingered in you as you sat there.

“Elvis?” You say out loud, seeing if he was still in the bedroom.

You frantically search for the clock and see it’s ten past ten. Your heart sinks again. Did he already leave? No, he couldn’t have, he would have said goodbye to you. You quickly put your dress back on and rush down the stairs.

Peeking into the dining room, the table was empty with not a trace anyone has been there. You go into the kitchen to see if you can find anyone there who might know where Elvis went to. You see one of his housekeepers at the sink rinsing off dishes. She hears you enter the kitchen and has a surprised look on her face.

“Oh hey darlin’! I didn’t know you were here!” She says excitedly.

“Yeah I stayed the night,” you say a bit timidly. “Where’s Elvis?” You ask.

She looks at you somberly, turning off the faucet and wiping her hands dry with a dish towel.

“Aww honey I’m sorry, you missed him. He left at dawn for New York. I’m sure he didn’t want to wake you. But you probably said your goodbyes last night right?” She tries to say positively.

You look down at the floor, trying to hide your flushing cheeks. Yeah, that was one hell of a way to say goodbye…

“Yes we did. I better get going. I’ll see you soon,” you tell her.

You make your way to the front door and stop dead in your tracks as you see an envelope on the side table with your name on it. You quickly grab it and make your way out the door. Your heart beats uncontrollably in your chest as you walk to your car. You quickly open the door and lock it as you stare at your name written in Elvis’ handwriting.

You hesitated to open it for some reason. A part of you thought he was going to confess how he regrets last night’s events. It scared you to see if that was the truth but had to see for yourself. You carefully tore the envelope open and pull the letter out. Your hands shook as you unfolded the paper.

My Girl,

I didn’t want to wake you this morning. You looked too peaceful. I had a wonderful night with you.

I’ll carry your ring with me wherever I go. It’s the greatest gift you could’ve ever given me.

I will be

With love,

Ep.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you stare at the words he wrote to you. You couldn’t help but feel like this was more than a goodbye letter. It was an end of an era for you two and he just put the nail in the coffin.

•

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