#the only way i can see it working is if he knocked him out but that seems. Unlikely

[vmpireslut]

♡.ྀི₊thinking about mean!overworked and underfucked nanami:3

it’s utterly cruel as he forces your fucked out face against the penthouse window. any other time, you'd be gushing over the breathtaking view of the city lights, but the way kento's fat tip gnaws at your cervix has your eyes rolling back in your skull.

a sinewy hand grips your throat, tightening to the point where you feel lightheaded. the other hand is firmly placed on your hip, anchoring your ass against his pelvis. you've been in this position for what feels like an eternity, pressed against the glass like an animal as he fucked you like a mutt in heat. the chill of the glass contrasts with the warmth radiating from him, each thrust causing the surface to shudder beneath you.

“such a slut, letting me use you like this—ha! bet it turns you on fucking your boss like this—god,” he snarls, voice thick with lust. the wet squelch of your slick pussy is audible in the room, only adding to your embarrassment. the shame has your eyes brimming with tears, the sting of them mixing with the ache between your legs.

he chuckles darkly. "that's right, sweetheart. i know how much of a fucking whore you are." he's relentless, driving his cock deep into your cunt as he uses your throat to keep you upright. “m’not a whore!” you try to argue, but it's incoherent due to the cock shoved in your cunt. he doesn't respond, but the grip on your hip tightens. his pace is brutal, each snap of his hips causing your ass to jiggle. your pussy flutters around his girth, sucking him in as he plows into you. the pressure building in your abdomen too much.

“don’t make me laugh.” he hisses, bending his knees slightly so that he can hit a new angle, the new position knocking a series of whines from your throat. you’re pretty sure he’s in your womb, molding your gummy walls around his length.

"always prancing around in those slutty skirts and shirts—i see the way you stare at me when you think i'm not looking. so needy. you wanted this from the beginning, didn't you?” he pauses, letting out a guttural moan.

“i knew all along. how could i not? you were practically throwing yourself at me. batting your fucking eyelashes, and now i've got you exactly where i want you. i bet it was all just a ploy to get my dick. i'm right, aren't i?"

even as he’s degrading you, you can't help but moan. kento’s hand moves to your ass, giving your cheek a sharp smack. the stinging sensation forces a cry from you, and you clench around his member, causing him to let out a string of curses.

“my point proven—ha! s’fuckin sad.”

the hand gripping your throat moves to the back of your head, pushing your face further against the cool glass.

"i'm not gonna last long," he groans, his hips beginning to falter. he's going harder, faster, and the way he splits you makes you scream. tears begin to stream down your cheeks as you come undone, the sensation of being full, so fucking full, causing you to go limp in his grasp. he doesn't stop, and the way he fucks you through your orgasm makes your vision go spotty.

he draws your hair into his hands, creating a makeshift ponytail for his fingers to weave into. then, he yanks hard, the sudden action forcing you to arch your back. “why do sluts always have the best pussy? no fair.” he sneers, he's fucking into you with such fervor that you're afraid the window might splinter.

“s-slow down, nanami-san, you're gonna b-break me," you stammer, voice barely above a whisper.

he doesn't.

the only thing you can do is take it. the way his head slams against your hilt has your body shaking, the pressure building up in your core once more. you can't hold on much longer, not with him fucking you like this.

“slow down? you wanted this! running your fuckin’ leg up my thigh at a work dinner, touching me under the table like a desperate bitch—you want this, don't you? i bet you would've let me fuck you there. i could've bent you over that table and pounded your little cunt till you were screaming my name. and now, look at you—fucking pathetic. such a pretty face, such a nice little pussy” he moans loudly, "wrecked. all ruined. and all because of me."

he pulls your hair once more, forcing a strangled sob from your throat. the sound makes him chuckle. kento uses you as a ragdoll, pulling your hair, grabbing your waist, manhandling you like some cheap sex toy. it's fucking disgusting. he spanks you when you go limp, pulling your hair whenever you go quiet. and all you can do is take it. the pain is so delicious that you're not even thinking straight. you just want to be good for him.

he's mean. but you've never been this wet in your entire life. your body is writhing, begging for another release, and when kento’s fingers find your swollen clit, you nearly fall apart. his fingers rub tight circles against the bundle of nerves, sending a surge of pleasure up your calves. his hips stutter, and he's moaning louder.

your knees buckle, another slap. “stay up i won’t tell you again.”

he's so fucking close. the tip of his cock is battering the entrance to your womb, and the way his balls are slapping against your cunt is making you sob. he nearly blows his load in you when he presses a hand below your belly button, feeling his cock through your stomach. he curses, grabbing your hand and pressing it to the small bump.

"can you feel me, sweetheart? can you feel how deep i am? can you feel the bulge?" you can't respond, too fucked out to process the words. he lets go of your hair, instead using both hands to pin your arms above your head. his face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you can feel his hot breath against your skin. “can’t even speak, sad.” he grunts, pressing sloppy wet kisses behind your ear.

you're his, all his. “mine, mine, mine.”

the way his teeth graze the skin of your neck has your eyes fluttering shut, a fresh set of tears rolling down your cheeks. you're a fucking mess, and kento nanami loves it. he can't help himself, not when your cunt is sucking him in like this. he's so close, so fucking close.

the pressure building in his abdomen becomes unbearable, and he lets out a strangled groan as his hips snap forward, his seed spilling into you. he doesn't slow down, not even as his cum overflows from your pussy, dribbling down your thighs.

"oh my god—oh my fucking god," he pants, his thrusts erratic. he's so deep inside of you, and the feeling of him painting your insides white has you on the verge of blacking out. he's filling you, stretching you, breeding you. it's too much.

his grip on your wrists going lax, you're completely boneless. the only thing keeping you from crumpling onto the floor is kento’s firm grip on your wrists. he lets go, and you fall to the ground. the only sounds that fill the air are the soft whimpers that escape your lips, and his heavy breathing.

he runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. he looks down at you, and the sight has his dick twitching.

you're a mess, his cum seeping from your cunt, mixing with your own arousal and dribbling down your thigh. the tear streaks running down your cheeks only make the scene more obscene. you're absolutely wrecked, and he's the one who did it. the thought has him grinning, and he crouches down to your level.

"you took me so well, baby girl," he purrs, tipping your chin upwards. his tone is surprisingly gentle, and you can't help but flush. his voice is a bit hoarse, a result of the noises he'd been making earlier. he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, admiring how fucked out you look. he can't wait to get his hands on you again.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Summer (Cregan Stark x Reader)

A/N: I can finally wrap up my romcom! Big romantic gesture ahead. Check the masterlist of this series here, if you are new. And to my lovely, lovely readers, thank you for staying wityh me during this madness.

Warnings: My anxious introverted reader being anxious (Shocker) Cregan has self-doubts. Mature language.

YOU ARE HAVING a terrible day. It surprises you because that doesn’t happen as often any longer. Today, you would rather not talk to anyone, much less Cregan, whose hovering would only serve to make you more anxious. Today, you want to crawl under the covers with your comfort book and pretend to be dead. 

Yet, you cannot. Because you can’t find the damn book anywhere. You are sure the compilation of histories of Old Valyria Daemon had given you has to be in your rooms.

You have pulled open all your desk’s drawers, checked the bedside table twice, checked the bed, even beneath it. Not even your chest with linens was spared. It’s nowhere. 

With little choices left, you have begun searching the nursery too, but haven’t quite mastered the courage to search Cregan’s solar. You remember taking the book alongside you to read as you kept him company sometimes, but do not recall leaving it there. 

You feel torn. Cregan and you are getting along now, but you still hesitate going to him with your troubles. Not only you had leftover guilt even though you have both chosen to move on from your rivalry, you also prided yourself on being independent. 

Asking him or anyone for help always makes you feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want others to perceive you as weak. 

Stop. You are being silly, you tell yourself. It’s not like you are about to ask him to solve your life, you only will inquire if he has seen your book. 

Still. What if he thinks less of you for being careless with your things? Or if he thinks you are being overly sentimental to get this worked up over a book? 

Worse, what if he thinks you are accusing him of stealing? 

You let out a groan. You are overthinking. Your bad days often include a lot of anxiety, and today it is a bad day. A terrible one, that will be worse if you don’t find your beloved book. Determined, you march to Cregan’s solar and knock on his door. 

“Aye?” He calls out, northern accent on full display, and you can’t help that your knees get a little weak.

“Cregan? May I come in?” Suddenly, your bravery and determination have deserted you. Your voice comes out squeaky as a mouse. By the Fourteen Flames, to love is to be humbled, it seems. 

“You always may, wife.” You wince at being addressed as such. You suppose it’s a good thing he isn’t calling you by your full title any longer. 

Pushing open the door, you step inside. Cregan is seated on his desk, a frown on his face. He is squinting at some maps, in the way he sometimes does. His frown softens when he sees you, standing on the door. 

“I enjoy how my colors look on you.” Cregan rumbles, a pleased smile forming on his face. Today, you are wearing one of the warmest dresses you own, in a pale gray. It’s made of velvet, and you enjoy how it feels over your skin. You had commissioned it after you arrived at Winterfell, using the generous pocket money that Cregan allowed you. 

You had to give it to the man. No matter how annoying you had been at first, he had never been tight-fisted with your allowance. 

“Thank you.” You feel your cheeks heating up, and fight the urge to fan your face. What you don’t manage to fight is the urge to preen under his gaze. 

Cregan chuckles. You narrow your eyes at him. Is he mocking you? He lifts his hands in surrender, attuned as he is to your moods. 

“Apologies. It’s cute, that’s all.” 

“The dress?” 

“You.” And it’s said with such disarming honesty, you do not know what to say. You search his face, yet his expression is so open, so fond, no hint of mockery can be found. It’s…  Cregan must be thinking of her, for sure. That expression doesn’t mean anything. “What were you here for?”

You clear your throat. 

“Um. I was… I lost my book.” 

“What book?” Cregan asks, shifting his maps aside. He is clearing his desk, you realize. “The one about the conquest?” 

“No, not that one.” Your voice turns shyer still. Secretly, it pleases you that he remembers what you had been reading last week. “It has a brown leather cover and the title is in gold.” 

“The one in High Valyrian?” And his tone is casual. Far too casual. You begin to worry that your book might have met its end. You look him in the eyes, but find little there. Cregan has an impeccable blank face. He gives nothing away. “Check the selves. Maybe it is there.” 

You turn around and begin doing so. But the more titles you check, the more nervous you become. Cregan is an organized man, his books are carefully separated by subject. The servants know to keep to his order, when he rarely leaves them lying around. 

Your book would stand out. You know it. A tight knot of anxiety begins to settle on your stomach. As you reach the lower shelves, you feel tears gathering in your lash line. You cannot believe you are about to cry over a book. 

Cregan will never love you. He will go right back into thinking you are some soft southron, with no spine. No one cries over books. He will think you are ridiculous. 

Despite your back being to him, he seems to sense something is wrong.

“Love? Is everything alright?” 

“I cannot find it.” You whine, losing your battle with the tears. “My book. It’s really important that I find it.” 

You hear him get up, and walk closer to you. He hugs you from behind, holding you to him. 

“Shh… I know. I have been unkind to you.” You are confused about his words, but not enough that you reject the comfort of his embrace. Cregan is warm against your back, and smells faintly of parchment and leather. There is something herbal clinging to his skin, too. His smell and his size make you feel safe. He is tall enough that his form covers yours completely.“I took your book.” 

You flinch. Your hackles begin to rise. Your sadness leaves, clouded by absolute wrath.  

“What?” 

“I wanted to gift you something. It’s being copied by the Maester as we speak. I wanted it to be a surprise, I know how much you love it.” He nuzzles your neck, and it pacifies you slightly. The prospect of a gift entices you, especially if it is a copy of your favorite book. Perhaps Cregan will have it nicely bound.  “I regret it now. Knowing how much you love it, I should have known it would upset you.”

“I wanted to read it today.” You complain, still sad. It has been an awful day for you. “I do not feel so well.” 

“Of course, sweetling.” Cregan drops a kiss to your crown. “I’ll have it delivered to you. Would you mind lending it to me tomorrow? You can recall it anytime during the day if you need it, like now.” 

“Alright.” You whisper, softly. Cregan gathers you in his arms again, and moves the two of you to the loveseat. There, he settles you in his lap. He takes of his cloak and drapes it over you. This way, you are fully surrounded by his warmth and smell.

He calls a servant. True to his word, the book is back in your hands in less than half an hour. You spend the rest of the afternoon reading in his lap. 

Suddenly, your bad day doesn’t seem so bad. 

WHEN HE FEELS like an inconsiderate brute, Cregan tries to think happier thoughts. While grief and self-doubt do not chase him as much as they chase you, he is still a widower with a wife who despised him at first. 

Often, gazing upon Rickon or you is enough to help him feel more settled. More at peace with himself. His son is well adapted enough, he reasons, as he sees him run around the courtyard. You do not despise him, he thinks, as you curl by his side. 

Today, neither is working. Rickon and you are together, a picture that normally would serve to pull him out from his brooding. Of course, since Rickon is on the floor wailing, it isn’t quite working. 

Cregan has a headache. The pain is spreading from his jaw, towards his cheekbones, and from there turning into sharp icicles that feel like they are being stabbed in his skull. 

The day has been long. He had ridden out at dawn to deal with some wildings near Wintertown, and then had to answer his correspondence. The dammed Greens would not stop pestering him to switch sides and hand you over, alternating between threats and flattery. 

As if the Starks were some miserable turncloaks who betrayed their oaths. As if Cregan would just hand over his wife to some usurping cunts. 

The nerve of those Hightowers knew no bounds. What was next? Demanding a Sept be built in Wintertown for those false gods of theirs? 

And if that wasn’t enough to make his day terrible, during the afternoon Cregan had received an outraged Sara. Apparently, for some unknown reason, she had received an offer to become Lady Cerwin And for another unknown reason, it was the most terrible fate. Ever. 

Rickon keeps screaming. He has been that way for a while. Cregan had been alone with him, watching him play on the rug with his blocks, when he had started crying and wouldn’t stop. 

Cregan had tried picking him up, rocking him, walking him back and forth, but nothing helped. One of the servants must have heard and alerted you because you had appeared looking disgruntled.

You had been in the middle of your quiet time, as Cregan enjoyed calling it. Awkward Princesses who hated socializing needed time to recover from hearing petitions during the day. He had realized so when he started teaching you to pass judgement. 

As the time for Cregan to march south to defend your mother’s claim became more imminent, he was giving you more and more responsibilities in Winterfell. That way, you would be prepared to hold the North when he left. Prepared to protect his Kingdom and his son. 

“Tower! Tower!” Rickon wails, as you pick him. Your face is as tired a Cregan feels. His head is heavy. He cannot stand Rickon screaming any longer. By the gods, Cregan is a terrible father. He cannot even calm his son when he needs him. After his many attempts to calm him down were unsuccessful, he had just set him down. 

“What’s the matter, sweet boy?” You ask, holding Rickon close to your heart. Rickon continues to cry. You meet Cregan’s eyes over his son’s head. 

Cregan shrugs. He is unsure of what triggered the tantrum. 

“Shh, all is well. I get overwhelmed too, sometimes.” You say, and Cregan gets the feeling you are talking to him and not to Rickon. “But we can’t rebuild your tower if you are getting all wiggly.”  

This is about the building blocks, Cregan realizes. He feels like a terrible father. A failure. 

Bennard’s words come to mind once more. How can you govern the North if you can’t govern yourself? You failed.

Your swordsmanship is poor, and you still are a pup crying for your parents. You cannot rule. 

He had heard a variation of those words for years, every time he had tried to push his claim. And look, Cregan knows he is not a poor swordsman, and he has tried his best to rule. Men don’t cry, but he does it occasionally. Rarely. His tears never dry out, no matter how old he grows, but it is the only thing of Bennard’s words that came true. That isn’t so bad, is it? 

You have settled on the floor, Rickon on your lap. He still cries, but he has stopped shrieking. You have started building a tower on your own. 

“I think I will place my princess here. And a dragon here.” You explain, as if you are building some great castle. Rickon stares, transfixed by you. Cregan understands the feeling all too well. He remembers the weight of you in his lap, the warmth of your skin against him, your smell. He has been unable to get the memory out of his mind in days. 

It would be pleasant, a session of cuddling with his wife, were it not for the circumstances that lead up to it. All Cregan’s fault. 

“A shame you want to keep crying and won’t help. I suppose I shall have to ask your father to play with me.” Your eyes are coy. You give Cregan a glance, and his lips form a smile despite himself. Of course you would try bribery. 

Of course, it works. Rickon picks up the first block, still sniffling. 

“No! Father isn't a Princess. You are!” 

“You are right, Rickon.” You agree, as if it were the most natural thing. “Silly me. He is a wolf. We should build him a Wolfswood.” 

And so, Rickon forgets his tantrum, settled by your gentle touch and encouraging words. And Cregan’s heart soars. 

“MILADY, LORD STARK wishes for your company.” One of the serving girls says, eyes downcasted. You pause in your perusal of the granary, making a quick note on your ledger. As the Lady of Winterfell, it falls to you to ensure the castle has supplies enough for winter, or so Cregan says. You find the Northern’s obsession with the season a bit much, but considering little grows here, you too would feel better knowing you have enough grain if something happens. 

“Right now?” Considering he had been the one to send you on this errand, it confuses you a little. He must have known taking stock of the granary would take you all day. 

“As soon as you can come. It’s not urgent, but he wishes to see you soon.” 

You feel nerves creep up on you. Cregan never summons you. When he wants your company, he simply appears near you or waits for a meal to invite you to spend time with him. 

You can’t help it. War and grief had frayed your nerves. These days, you feel like everything could be a sign of bad news. 

It’s not urgent, you repeat to yourself. It’s not urgent, it’s not urgent, you chant in your head, but your steps towards the inside of Winterfell are hurried. 

The castle is unusually quiet. The maid guides you to one of the unused wings of the castle, one near Cregan’s rooms. You have never asked, but you know these were the rooms his uncle used to inhabit when trying to usurp him. The man had never dared taking the lord’s rooms from Cregan, lingering near instead, a feeling you understand too well. 

Your husband is a formidable man. You wouldn’t want to cross him, either. 

The serving girl hesitates when the two of you reach a big oaken door. 

“What is it?” You ask her, with a frown. “Why do you linger?”

She doesn’t answer. She simply shoots you a shy smile. Annoyed at her shyness, you push the door open yourself. Your breath catches. 

When you step inside, it is as if you are stepping inside your storybook. The walls are covered with tapestries depicting some of the prettier illustrations, priestesses wearing amethysts, dragons of shining ivory, lovers holding hands. 

The room is decorated in understated creams and golds, the furniture made of the finest woods. Despite the themes of the decoration, it is clearly meant to be a Lady’s solar, even if not attached to your rooms. 

There is a soft, woven carpet that cushions your every step. It is made of pure white fur, to combine tastefully with the rest of the decoration. You can already tell it will feel like heaven on your bare feet, even through your boots. It must have cost a fortune. 

Near two, giant windows, a low table sits. It holds a vase very familiar to you, shaped in the form of a dragon. It is filled with winter roses, though you had seen it before in Dragonstone, full of your mother’s favorite flowers. 

There is a fireplace, as it is customary in almost all the rooms in Winterfell. On its mantle, small toys and mementos from your childhood sit. Near the fireplace, a small sitting area awaits, with comfortable looking armchairs and loveseats, and a low table in which a tea set, painted with Valyrian motives, rests. 

There is a desk in a corner, much bigger than yours, and a small bookshelf, that resembles the layout Cregan has in his own solar. It has sparse books, but all of them are in High Valyrian. Your favorite book has a place of honor, right in the middle of the highest shelf. 

Yet, the true star of the room lies on the back of it. There is a huge round table, like the one from your stories, made of sturdy wood, that resembles the one from the war room from Dragonstone. Not only are the Seven Kingdoms featured, but also Essos, Sothoryos, the Summer Islands and even Great Moraq. Cregan is in the middle of lighting the table, struggling with how one is supposed to do it. 

“How..?” You babble, astonished. To assemble this… You understand now why he had needed your book so many times. The time and care put into building this room, so delightfully whimsical yet honoring your culture at the same time… Your eyes prickle with tears. 

“We can send it back.” Cregan says, alarmed by your tears. “If you…” 

“No!” You say, with an energy that surprises you. You take the candles from his hands and begin lighting the table the proper way. “This is… My home. And my book.”

Cregan’s face is uncharacteristically unsure.

"I hoped it would remind you of where you came from. Of whom you are. A Princess of Dragonstone. My Princess.” 

“You did this… for me?” Your hands tremble as you set the table alight. All the known world, on display for you. In a war table. It is only then that it registers.  

Cregan is willing to go to war for you. Kill in your name. Lay the whole world at your feet.  You have to grip the back of one of the chairs as to not fall down, knees weak. 

“I know you are far from home. And I haven’t… We haven’t always been on the best terms, but you never shied away from your duties. I wanted to give you something that was about you.” 

“I never thought you saw me.” You whisper. “I… I owe you an apology. For everything. For insulting you, when I arrived, for speaking of Lady Arra, for… For not seeing you either, at first.” 

You have been blind, you realize, as you look at your book come to life in this room. The man who had given it to you had shown you that one could form a family with a widow and cherish their sons as if they were your own.

Daemon wasn't a kind man, but he was loyal to family. You were far kinder. If he could do it, and be happy, so could you.

“There is no need to apologize to me.” Cregan gathers you in his arms, and presses a kiss to your lips. His own are chapped from the cold, yet the only thing you feel is his warmth. And for two people as different as winter and summer, you find that your bodies do understand each other. 

It takes Cregan but a week to convince you after that. The first letter you write in your new desk begins as it follows: 

“Dear Jacaerys, I want you to know that I am completely, perfectly, incandescently happy…”

[multific]

A Still Life in Love

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: What better way to capture someone's likeness than a painting?

Geta, one of the twin rulers of the Roman Empire.

He sat in complete silence, his gaze focused on every petition brought before him.

To his senators and generals, he was a ruthless man.

He and his brother roughly enjoyed games, blood and wine.

Whispers of their coldness echoed through the palace halls, and yet none dared question their authority.

But you knew another side of Geta, a side he showed only to you and on occasion to his brother.

When the court adjourned for the day, he rushed back to his chambers, ready for some time alone with you, his wife.

You entered his chambers with a soft knock not long after him.

“Amor,” As his eyes met yours, he smiled. “I’ve been waiting to see you finally.”

You stepped into the room, Geta stood and closed the distance between you, his hand reaching for yours. “How was your day?” you asked.

He sighed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Tired as ever. I am tired of the fools who believe they can outsmart me. But you brighten even my darkest hours.”

Moments like these were rare treasures.

The love he had for you was there in every smile, every touch, and every word spoken.

It was this love that inspired him to commission a portrait of you.

It was something that left you speechless. Just how serious he was when it came to you.

The painter was summoned weeks later, an acclaimed artist from Gaul.

His skill was unmatched, but he quickly learned that the challenge wouldn’t be capturing your beauty.

It would be dealing with the Emperor himself.

“You will make her radiant. No brushstroke will do her justice, but you will try. If you do not do as you are told...”

The artist nodded quickly, his hands trembling as he set down his materials.

You hid a smile, watching as Geta stood over him like a hawk.

The moment the painter raised his brush, Geta’s voice cut through the silence. Almost making the artist jump out of his skin.

“Do not forget the light in her eyes. It’s the first thing I noticed about her.”

“Geta,” you said gently, “Let him work, please.”

He exhaled sharply and took a step back.

But instead of leaving, he found a seat near the window, his gaze on you. “I will stay. This is important.”

And so began the sittings, each more revealing than the last.

The painter didn't dare complain about Geta’s interruptions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed.

You actually found it quite adorable.

The Emperor of Rome, a man feared by millions, sat still, his focus on you.

One afternoon, as the painter adjusted his palette, you noticed Geta watching you with something in his eyes. It made you feel a bit shy.  

“Why are you looking at me that way?” you asked, half-teasing.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Because you’re mine. And because I want the world to see you as I do. Perfect, irreplaceable, and breathtaking.”

“Perfect, am I? Even when I argue with you?”

A low chuckle escaped him. “Especially then. Your fire reminds me that I’ve married a woman, not a shadow.”

The painter cleared his throat awkwardly, and you turned back to your pose, pushing down a laugh. Geta remained seated, his attention solely on you the artist continued.

Days turned into weeks, and the portrait was almost completed.

Geta’s pride in the work was noticeable. “Will you look?”

“Not until it’s finished,” you replied. You were actually interested in how he saw you.

And this portrait would be a perfect representation of his love for you.

He frowned slightly, but you kissed his cheek, hoping to ease his disappointment. “Patience, My Love.”

When the day finally came to unveil the portrait, Geta was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

You stood beside him as the velvet cloth was removed, revealing the masterpiece.

The artist had captured not just your likeness but the warmth and intelligence in your eyes.

In the painting, the traits Geta cherished most were the most permanent.

Your breath hitched. “It’s beautiful.”

“No, you’re beautiful. This is but a shadow of the truth.”

The artist, sensing his dismissal, quickly gathered his belongings and ran. Too afraid to become the next feast for Geta's beloved tigers.

As the door closed, Geta turned to you fully. “Do you see now why I insisted on this? I wanted the world to know the woman who owns my heart.”

“Geta, I’m just me.”

“You are everything,” he pulled you into his arms.

His lips brushed your forehead, then your cheek, before capturing your lips in a kiss that spoke louder than any word.

The portrait was placed in the grand hall.

Geta insisted that everyone who was walking the hall must see it.

But in Geta’s eyes, no painting could ever compare to the reality of having you by his side.

For the Emperor who ruled with his brother, you were his only beauty, his greatest treasure.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[moonjellysfeast]

My Own Galatea- Crybaby x Top Male Reader Cont.

cw; Manipulation, abuse, unethical science, dehumanization, murder plotted but not described, minor hornt at the end, you answer a call while fucking, Crybaby is @yanderefarm's character

Of course, you weren't only there to train Crybaby into an obedient weapon. Elias needed a gentle touch too and as soon as he stopped remembering what he did as the other persona he was ready to be trained in a new way. After all, you planned to bring Elias home and make him yours.

"Elias, please come here" He refused to move due to his earlier training, "You know you can trust me, right? We're friends, you can listen to me"

"But... only Crybaby listens... Right?"

"Oh, lovely, no. Crybaby obeys because he is a conduit, You ought to listen of your own choice. Because we are friends, Elias. Because I want you to" You smiled at the boy who looked like a kicked puppy even as you repeated your request and he scrambled to kneel in front of you and rest his head on your lap.

"Good, thank you, my sweet" You pet his head, letting the gentleness be his reward.

"I'm so glad we're so close now, when we first met I had to be so... careful with you" You laced your fingers through his hair as you spoke, soon wrapping the locks around your fingers to pull his head up at an uncomfortable angle to ensure he was looking up at your grin. "Now you're so malleable~"

He whined a bit at the strain in his neck but made no move to escape, in fact, leaning into your touch and staring up at you with adoration. You had to stifle a laugh at how pathetic he looked, the perfect little puppet for you to toy with. So eager to please that anything could bring him immense pleasure if it were from you. This included the torture he underwent to make him a perfect warrior.

When you could not be the one to administer his treatments he had to be restrained as Crybaby to ensure your Elias would stay sweet and to help him learn to be angry and more aggressive as Crybaby. If it was you, he only had to be restrained to keep himself from pushing the tools further into himself and ruining his body. It was bad enough that you were very soon only permitted to give him injections or other, less torture focused treatments. Though, you made sure to get recordings of his torture so you knew every single thing that was happening to him, as well as to entertain yourself in times where you missed his big wet eyes.

Eventually, you decided he needed a test run to ensure he could kill efficiently. You even had a victim in mind, one of the other scientists in the building who worked with him often and yet still seemed to believe they had moral superiority over you. They always looked at you with disgust and often commented on the fact you were a darling, seeming to believe the gene made you subhuman. To guide Crybaby in the correct direction you complained a few times to him about that person, even showing him pictures so he could recognize them. You knew if he were to simply focus on killing them he'd likely be taken out by the security, so to keep him safe you told him about your usual trip home so he could have a second goal and not let himself die.

You reasoned that if it didn't work you could likely find someone else to train into a perfect doll, though you had put so much work into Elias, you couldn't say you weren't worried. You finally determined he was ready and told him very directly that you wished for the death of your coworker before you went home for the day. You did not get to see exactly what happened, sitting at home and waiting for either a masked, blood soaked puppet or a message from your boss on the death or major injury of Crybaby.

After a few hours, you became very concerned, imagining his death at the hands of some stupid guard, so far from you. Finally a gentle knock came from the door before it opened and he stumbled in, dropping to his knees and bowing down towards you like he was praying. You couldn't help but grin as you lifted his head and peeled the mask off, the adorable, tear stricken face looking up at you with baited breath, awaiting his next order.

"Very good job, Crybaby~ You finally came home~ Now, Elias, let's get you cleaned up and in bed, You deserve a reward, don't you~"

He was now ready to be trained as your housepet, at your beck and call. This portion of training would be so much easier, he was already prepared to be obedient, he only needed to be guided. As it turned out, he also needed to be subdued as he was far too excited to receive your attention. You didn't even have the chance to pull out of him when your boss called to explain that he'd escaped. You did answer and she did hear him very loudly whining about your attention being away from him for even a moment. Suffice to say, you got to keep him in your home most of the time after that.

[miniwheat77]

The One. (Creepy!Graves x Virgin!Reader.)

!DARK FIC, nsfw, smut, non con, dub con, proceed with caution. P in v sex, unprotected, virginity loss, scumbag!graves, oral sex m&f!receiving. NO MINORS!

“Yeah yeah, I got it.” You mumble into the phone. “She seriously can’t have any human food Y/N. I mean it.” She sighs. “I got it!” You laugh. “Look, me and Ruby are going to be just fine. I’ll feed her exactly how you wrote on the note, no more no less. She’ll get her meds. We’re gonna be alright.” You laugh. Looking down at the little crusty white dog you’ve agreed to dog sit. “Okay. Alright. I’m trusting you with this Y/N.” She groans into the phone. “When have I ever tested your trust?” You laugh. “You’re right. I know. I’m just stressed with this work trip, that’s all.” She sounds exhausted on the other end of the phone. "And outside of all of this that dog is all I've got. You know this." She huffs.

“Get some sleep alright? I’ll send you updates about Ruby everyday. I’ll see you when you come back.” You smile. “Alright. Thanks again Y/N. See you in a few days.”

You hang the phone up. You sigh, this was going to be a long few days.

Her house is a little eerie and you have a hard time falling asleep, but you do eventually, not having gotten to her house until late the night before.

It’s early in the morning when a knock at the door wakes you, you skeptically make your way down the stairs and hate the fact that she doesn’t have a peep hole. You open the door slowly. “Hey I was just wonder-“ The man looking back at you gathers a look of confusion. “Uhhh… you’re not Jennifer.” He laughs. “Uh.. yeah. She’s um.. on a work trip. So me and my boyfriend are house sitting for her.” You lie. You don’t have a boyfriend but you don’t want to tell a random man that you’re alone. “Oh okay. She borrowed my lawn mower a few days ago and it doesn’t look like she ever got around to her lawn but mine needs done here soon.. so. I was just wondering if I could get it back but it can wait a couple days. Thanks anyways.” He smiles. “I can always call and ask her.” You look up at him, he practically towers over you. “Oh no. I don’t want to bug her if she’s on a work trip, it can wait. Thanks anyways darling.” He smiles. The way he says ‘darling’ has your stomach doing flips. “I’m Phillip by the way.” He reaches out a hand. You take it. “Y/N.” You smile.

As soon as the door is closed you’re on your phone sending her a text.

So we keeping secrets now?

Wym?

I mean your hot neighbor.

Ew.

You don’t think so?

He’s kind of a creep I’ve heard.

Oof. Didn’t give me a bad vibe ;)

Oh dear. Don't go getting yourself into trouble.

You laugh at her text, making your way back up the stairs.

Later the same day, you’d gone to pick up some groceries, not wanting to eat her food. She said you could but you felt that was rude since she was only going to be gone a few days anyways. You also had to pick up the remainder of Ruby’s meds. She’s turned into quite the problem child.

As you’re making your way up the walkway, you see him working on some roses. Trimming them down a little bit. “Hey.” He smiles. “Hi.”

“I actually had a question.” He sets the trimmers down, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. “Yeah?” Under his shirt you can see just how toned he is. You approach the chain length fence that he's just on the other side of.

“You house sit a lot?” He asks. “Not usually, but I’m not against it. Why?”

“Well, my wife is a night shift nurse and I’m in the military so I’m gone quite a bit. We pay a lot for our kids to be in daycare but we don’t always trust them. You good with kids?” He asks. “Oh uh.. well. It depends. How many days a week do you think they’d need to be watched?” You ask. “Probably only 2 or 3 days a week. Few hours at a time. Just until their grandparents or aunt can get them.” You nod your head. “Yeah, I don’t think I’d mind.” You shrug. He nods. “Alright cool. I’m sure my wife would like to meet you first. Although she isn’t off until about midnight tonight though.” He mumbles. “Uhh.. I’m sure I’ll be awake by then, I can just stop by.” You shrug. “That’d be great.” He smiles.

This could turn into a pretty good job, night shift nurse, military? They’d probably be willing to pay a pretty penny for their kids to be watched and you already have some debt racked up. This could turn into something pretty damn nice. You wait around and it seems like midnight may never come. You make sure Ruby is fed and has her meds before you make your way over next door, not sure how long it may take and you don't want to leave the little dog hanging. You make sure to go over a few minutes early to make a good impression.

11:47pm

You knock at the door and he smiles when he greets you. “Hey.” He smiles. “Come on in. My wife should be off work here soon.” He smiles. You step inside. “You can have a seat on the couch, you want anything to drink?” He asks. “Oh. No I’m alright.” You smile. “Thanks though.” You take a seat on his couch. “Alright. I’m just gonna grab a beer real quick.” He smiles, walking out of the room.

How’s Ruby?

She’s good but I’m out for a minute.

What? Why?

Just a second, your neighbor asked if I’d be interested in watching his kids for him. Yknow. Since I’m such a good house sitter ;)

At midnight?

It’s when his wife is off work.

I didn’t know he was married? Or that he had kids?

He said so. He said she’d be home soon.

No, I definitely remember. He doesn’t have kids or a wife. You’re talking about the neighbor on the left side?

You’re starting to get worried. Eyes drawing up from your phone. If something happens you want her to be able to call for help but you also don’t want to be the idiot that walked right into a trap this easily.

Oh no, the one across the street.

Oh okay, jeez. Had me worried there. They nice? I’ve never met em.

Yeah, super nice. His wife just got here actually. Talk to you later. Ruby misses you.

You put your phone down, the hair on your body standing up. Worry fills you. He walks back into the room, turning the cap off of the beer.

11:53pm

“So uh.. you said you’re in the military?” You ask. “Yeah, been in since I was eighteen.” He nods. “And.. your wife’s a nurse, that’s pretty cool.” You smile. “Yeah, she doesn't mind it.” He laughs. “How old are your kids? I forgot to ask.” You glance at his left hand.

Stomach falling when you don’t see a ring. “They’re 9 and 5.” He nods. “Drive me crazy.” You’re glancing around the house. Not a toy or anything related to a woman or kids in sight. “You said your boyfriend is staying with you, how long have you both been together?” He asks. “Oh.. uh.. 3 years.” You smile. “No kids?”

“No. Not yet anyways.” You laugh. “Do you want them?” He asks. “Uhhh.. we haven’t really talked too much about it.” You laugh. You exchange more conversation as the time passes by.

12:05am

“You know.. I hate to cut this short but I’m exhausted…” you mumble. Standing up.

He stands up quickly. “She should be home any minute, really.” He laughs, gliding a hand through his hair. “Yeah I’m really sorry, I’m not usually up this late. Maybe I can come back tomorrow night or a night when she doesn’t work.” You mumble. Rubbing your eyes. Feigning tiredness.

“Alright well. I understand.” He smiles. You walk for the door, surprised when he doesn’t make a move to stop you.

You grasp the door handle, opening up the door.

It slams shut, his hand above you. A gasp leaves your lips. You freeze. You say nothing and hear nothing from him. Just his heavy breathing from behind you. “Please… let me go.”

He raises his hand, grasping your hair and moving it to your other shoulder. “I’m not trying to scare you.. promise.” He breathes. “I’m not too good at this.” He sighs. His lips are right by your ear. You tug at the door handle again but he holds it.

“Look.. just talk to me please? I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.” He breathes. “Look my boyfriend is probably really wondering where I am-“

“Y/N.” He shakes his head. “You and I both know there’s nobody over there. Just you.” His voice is quiet and deep.

“How do you know that?” Your heart thumps in your chest, so loud he can hear it.

“I live right next door sweetheart. I’ve seen you around before.” He laughs. “Just.. sit back down. We can talk this out.”

“No. I want to leave.” You breathe. “Please.. I swear. One conversation and I’ll let you go.”

You hesitate. “Fine.” You breathe. Surprised when he steps back. You turn to look at him but you don’t move away from the door. He takes another couple steps back. “Why did you lie about having a wife and kids?” You ask. “I.. just wanted you over here. I needed some kind of excuse. I think you’re.. gorgeous and I realize now how creepy that probably soun-“ you grasp the door handle and rip it open.

But you’re not fast enough.

He grasps a hold of your arm, ripping you back inside his house and slamming the door, locking it this time. He shoves you up against it. Your cheek pressed against the cool wood. He hisses, pressing his entire body into you. “Fuck- now why’d you have to go and do that hm?” He breathes. You can feel him shaking. He wraps a hand in your hair, pushing your face into the door harder. “You’re so pretty. Fuck- and you smell so good too.” He breathes. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” He shakes. “I know I’m a fucking creep. I’m not good at this.” His voice is shaky and he stutters when he speaks. Like he’s never done this before. Like some Virgin desperate enough to hurt for it.

“I- I just.. haven’t been with a woman in so long. And you.. my god. I knew I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you. Knew you were the one.” He’s nearly panting as he says it. “It’s.. it’s okay Phillip- that’s your name right?” You mumble. He nods. He releases the pressure he has on you, letting you spin around to look at him. “You don’t have to do this okay?” You breathe.

“But.. I do.”

He leans into you. “You can fight me.” He breathes. His lips are nearly brushing yours. “But you don’t have to. I saw the way you were looking at me. I know you want this too.” He breathes. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

You can feel tears gathering in your eyes. This is what you get for being so trusting. “Okay… okay.” You take in a shaky breath. “Don’t cry… please. I promise I’ll be good to you okay?” You nod. Closing your eyes tight. His lips brush yours and you take in a deep breath. He presses his to yours fully, and this is happening one way or another so you ignore what this really is. You don’t kiss him back. He kisses you hard, hands on your hips, pushing them up your shirt. When he finally pulls away your lips are blushing.

“I.. I’m sorry.” He breathes. He wipes his face in frustration. “Can we start over?” He breathes. Your cheeks are still wet with tears. “I.. I’m Phillip. I’m single, no kids. I’m in the military.” He laughs. He inhales through his nose. He sticks his hand out for you to shake.

He sees the slightest tug at the corner of your lips.

“I… I’m Y/N. I’m also single, and I’m dog sitting next door.” You breathe. Taking his hand.

“And.. that’s probably not what you should’ve started with.” You breathe. Eyes flashing to his lips and than back to his eyes. “What?”

“You should’ve said, ‘Hi. I’m Phillip. And I’m so horny that I look like a creep and force myself onto people.’ Maybe.” You laugh, looking down. He smiles. It’s obviously a sad smile. “God.. when you say it like that.” He breathes. “I swear I’m not usually like this.” He shakes his head. “Haven’t been with a woman in years but there’s something about you.” He trails off, shaking his head. “I’ve seen you around but talking to you was an entirely different ballgame. My god…” He breathes. “I am a creep, shit.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You sigh. “I mean it’s not but.. I’ll let it go.” You breathe.

“Okay. I.. you can go alright? I’m sorry.”

You shake your head.

“What?”

“The proper way to get a girl alone, is to invite her over for dinner sometime. Not lie about having a wife and kids. Total turn off.” You laugh. “But lucky for you, I’m nice so I’ll let it slide.” You take a deep breath. “If you do that shit to me again though I might have to fight you. So just.. keep your hands to yourself and we’ll be alright.” You laugh. Your heart is still thumping in your chest. He didn’t seem like a violent man, but he’d just tried to force himself on you so you couldn’t assume too much more. He raises his hands in surrender. “Promise.”

“How long have you been in the military?” You ask. “I didn’t lie about that part. Since I was eighteen.” He nods. He skeptically sits down. You can tell he doesn’t want you to leave. “And how old are you?” You ask. “Thirty-five.” Your eyes widen. “Jesus.” You laugh. “What?”

“Older than I thought.” You mumble. Seeing as you’re still in your mid-twenties. “You.. want to watch a movie or something?” He asks. “Uh. Yeah fine whatever.” You mumble, sitting down.

Your brain is fried, should you take him being so into you that he nearly forces himself on you as a compliment?

You sit down away from him, the both of you agreeing on a movie.

You’re getting tired but you know you can’t fall asleep here, so you finish the movie and go back next door without any more issues.

———

“Hey.” He smiles. “I uh.. brought beer.” You laugh. He’s invited you to his house once again. Properly this time.

You step inside and he closes the door behind you. You’d picked a new movie to watch this time. It’d just come out. You take your places, you’d set Ruby up with some food and water and a couple treats so she was asleep when you left. He starts the movie and opens a beer, sitting where he usually does.

About halfway through the movie is when a sex scene comes on. The first of any of the movies you’d watched. You notice him shift uncomfortably. By the end of the scene, he’s palming himself in the dark. You can barely see it. You chew at your lip nervously. He’s laying back on the smaller love seat to your right, he can’t see you as easily as you see him. He clearly doesn’t know that.

When the movie is over, he’s got one hand behind his head, his eyes are closed. His lips are parted slightly, he’s clearly fallen asleep. You smile. You stand up, walking around. You cross your arms and bite your lip, thinking of what to do.

Should you just leave?

Since his arm is draped behind his head like a pillow, his shirt has raised. Showing off his toned stomach. Your eyes travel further down, seeing that he’s still hard. Must be dreaming.

Fuck it.

You slide one knee over him, straddling his knees. It’s a little uncomfortable because the couch isn’t too big seeing as it’s a love seat. You expect him to wake up or even stir but he doesn’t. Deep sleeper.

You reach for his jeans, unbuttoning them. Unzipping them and tugging them down around his cock. He’s still hard. You’re being rough and he still hasn’t woken up. You lower yourself down, taking him into your mouth. You’re gentle at first. Toying with him to see how he’ll react in his sleep. It takes a while for him to let out a whine and shift slightly. Taking in a breath. You take him further, hollowing your cheeks and sucking. Bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Making sure not to put too much pressure on him. He takes in a jagged breath. He moans out again. “Fuck- Y/N-“ he hisses. You think he’s woken up.

Your eyes snap to his face but his eyes are still shut. It’s you he’s dreaming about. Maybe he really did just like you.

You keep up the pace. His breaths getting heavier and more frequent, until he’s panting. He’s right on the edge. His eyes tighten. He’s really close. He’s never been this close before in a dream. Why is he so-

His eyes snap open, widening when he sees you on him.

“O-oh fuck.” He breathes. “Y/N- what are you-“ his lips open.

“Wait-“ he hisses, you don’t. You don’t relent for even a second.

You can’t deny it, he’s hot and he wants you.

He’s pathetic

“Sh- oh my god…” He breathes. The muscles in his stomach tense up as you start sucking at the tip of his cock. “Fuck baby- fuck..” he breathes. “Look at me.” He hisses, his teeth are gritted. Your eyes snap up to his and he moans out, resting his back on the couch, looking down at you. “Fuck.. I’m gonna-” He groans. His eyes screw shut and he cries out. He rocks his hips forward and you swallow down a gag.

He bucks his hips again, crying out a final time as he finishes down your throat. Panting as you clean him up. “Fuck… you didn’t have to do that.” He breathes. You finally look up at him, moving up further and straddling his still hard cock. He gasps when the seam of your jeans rub against him.

“Phillip?” You say. Your voice is unsteady and rough. “Yeah?”

“You’re pathetic.” He laughs. “And you still sucked my cock.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s because you’re hot, creep.” You go to stand up, but he stops you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You laugh. “Well I was going to go home.”

“You really want to leave after that?”

You shrug. “Why don’t you stay a while.” He chews at his lip, hand gripping his hard cock again. “Or maybe I’ll just give you no choice.” He smirks.

You roll your eyes at him. “What are you going to do?”

“At least.. meet you in the middle.” You look away from him. “Yeah, I’ll be honest. No one’s ever done that before.” You go to stand up but he stops you again. “Done what?” He asks. You roll your eyes, looking away from him.

“No one’s ever gone down on you before?”

You try to hide the smile of embarrassment. “Have you ever.. done any of this before?” He asks.

You swallow hard. Avoiding his gaze. “Shit… are you a Virgin?” He asks. You look down, setting your hands in your lap. The way you fidget with your hands is enough for him to know that you are. “Damn baby. I had no idea. I’m sorry I came on so strong before.”

You can’t help but hide your face, hearing him laugh. He grips your wrists, tugging them down. “Have you ever gone down on anyone else before, like that?” He asks. “No.”

He smiles. “You really had me fooled because.. that’s the hardest I’ve probably ever cum.” He laughs. He’s so straight forward you. You don’t know how to take him. “You’re already a pro and I haven’t shown you anything yet.”

“Yet?” You laugh. “Yeah. Yet.” He rests his hands on your thighs. His cock is still exposed. Still hard and blushing red. “You’re a bad girl, waking me up like that.” He laughs.

“Yeah right, like I couldn’t see you palming yourself through the entire movie.” You roll your eyes.

He sits up, you go to move off of him but he stops you, lifting you up with it. He sits you down on the couch like you would normal. “Slide your hips to the edge.” He nods. “What?”

“M’gonna eat that pretty pussy. Cmon.” He reaches for your waistband. “I- I haven’t shaved and I’m-“

He laughs. “Look at me.” He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up at him

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m a man not a boy. Take your pants off.” He’s stern.

You swallow hard. Nodding your head. “Y-yes sir.” The words leave your lips before you even realize it. “I- I mean!”

“It’s okay. You’re working yourself up for nothing. Relax.” He wants to taunt you but doesn’t want to take this too far.

When your pants are finally off, you have your legs shut tight. It’s amusing, how nervous you are.

“Slide your hips to the edge and spread your legs for me baby. Go on.”

You take in a deep breath. Your heart thumps hard in your chest, he can hear it. He lowers himself to his knees as you do what he says, skeptically opening your legs. You’ve still got panties on. He holds onto your knees, opening your legs even more. “Fuck. You’re so pretty.” He licks his lips. He’s ready to devour you. He’s got it in his eyes.

He runs his thumb over your clothed pussy, rubbing back and forth over your clit through your panties. You take in a deep breath. “No one has ever touched you here before?” He taunts. You shake your head. “No.”

“Shame for them. And you of course. Not for me.” He laughs. “I get you all to myself.”

He lowers his head, gliding his tongue across your panties. You moan out, watching him tease you. He flicks his tongue over your clit through them, he can feel you shiver. Desperate for him to actually touch you. He uses the tips of his fingers to slide your panties to the side. Biting his lip when he finally gets a good look at you. “Fuck…” he draws it out. It’s nearly a moan when it leaves his lips. “You’re so wet..” He breathes. He glides his tongue up your slit, flicking it over your clit just once. You tense up, the sensitivity has you whining. “Phillip please!” You cry.

He holds your hands to your side so that you can’t touch him. He laughs. “Be patient. Don’t you want your first time to be special?” He smirks. Your eyes are glossy and your cheeks are flushed. You’re turned on and he can see it in your eyes. He lets go of your hands and leans in. He’s going to seal the deal. He draws his tongue over your clit again, but this time he doesn’t let up. He keeps the steady pace, flattening his tongue across it and abusing it.

He doesn’t stop or give you a break, keeping the pace and force on your clit. You’re squirming in no time. Whining and crying out for him. You’ve got a hand in his hair, tugging it slightly. He likes the way it feels. He draws away for just a second, gathering his saliva on his fingers and gliding them down. Returning his tongue back to your clit. You don’t realize what he’s going to do until he’s already done it. He slides a soaked finger into your hole, feeling you tense up hard at the intrusion. Your breath gets caught in your throat. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust. He pumps his finger into you at a fast pace.

You’re not going to last.

You’re nearly sobbing when he brings you to the edge. He sucks at your clit, fingering your pussy until you can’t even form a single word or thought.

When you reach your peak, you sob. Crying out louder than you’ve ever been. He keeps the pace until you squirm, stopping him.

When he finally pulls away, his lips and cheeks are flushed. His face glistens in your arousal. He smiles, licking his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “How do you feel baby? I make you feel good?”

You nod your head. He’s put you into a daze.

He laughs at your fucked out state.

“If you thought that was good.. you should see what my cock would do to you.” He glides his middle finger down your wet opening, sliding it back into your blushing hole. You whine out again. It’s too much.

“I’d stretch you so much more.. and reach so much deeper.” He slides his finger in and out of you slow, barely moving it. “You’d feel so full.” He breathes.

“You want to feel me baby? Think you can take it?”

You think for a second. You’re already sprawled out on his couch.

You nod your head.

“Atta girl.”

He exposes himself once more. He glides the tip of his cock over your slit. Gathering the arousal that’s still there from when he’d devoured you. “I’ve opened you up quite a bit already, you’re ready for me now.”

He notches the tip right at the entrance and pushes into you slow. He was right. He’s stretching you a lot.

It’s uncomfortable but he’d made your body ready for him.

He rubs circles over your clit as he pushes deeper and deeper. Keeping you stimulated. Your body takes him right in. When he’s almost there, you start to tense up. He knows he’s hurting you. Going deeper than anything you’ve ever taken, “it’s alright. You’re doing so good baby. Just keep your legs spread for me.”

You wrap your arms under your knees, spreading your legs further. You watch as he slides deeper. His cock disappearing into you.

It’s getting tighter and hurting more. “I-it hurts Phillip.” You whine. “It’s okay. Nearly there doll.” He keeps rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb. He jerks forward, hearing you cry out as he forces himself the rest of the way in. Drawing his hand back from you. “There we go- all done.” He breathes. You have tears in your eyes. “I know it hurts but it’ll never have to hurt again okay. Look at me.” He nods. Your eyes snap to his. “There’s my girl. Doing so good.” He shakes his head. He draws his hips back and slides back into you, slow. He nods his head while looking at you. “You’re taking me so well baby. So good. Just keep relaxed for me.”

The pain starts to ease. He’d hurt you pretty badly right there at the end.

It takes you a few minutes to get fully used to him. Even after that, it’s a foreign feeling. Not quite comfortable but not entirely uncomfortable either. You feel nothing.

He can see it in your face that you’re not enjoying it, but he knows exactly how to change that.

He fills you completely, the backs of your thighs flush with his hips. He’s buried completely inside of you. He nods. “Slide your hips back a little bit.” He moves with you as you do as he says. “Open your legs just a little more- perfect.”

“Now lay back completely and relax. Okay?”

You nod your head. Still feeling uncomfortable. “Perfect, try to relax now. It’s going to be a lot.”

You don’t understand what he means until he draws back and thrusts in again. Right up against that spongy spot inside of you. Your eyes widen and you gasp when he does. Chills rise on your skin. He laughs at your reaction. “Found it.”

He picks up his pace, fucking into you harder, going even deeper. The squelch from your pussy getting wetter around him has you blushing. You’re already overstimulated but he’s got you closing in on another orgasm. Your clit throbs and he doesn’t forget to give it attention too. Rubbing his thumb over it again. It’s nearly too much.

“Look at me.”

You raise your eyes to look at him, swallowing hard.

“You’re doing so good. You feeling good baby?” He asks. You nod your head. He can tell you’re getting close again. “I’m going to cum in you.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. He laughs. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.” He smiles. “Phillip- no-“

“Shhh.. just relax baby. You get the full experience. It doesn’t count, not until I fill your pussy full.”

You start to squirm. You’re not ready for a baby and even if you take something, then what?

He keeps his pace and holds you still, using one hand to force your hands together. You can’t help it. The way he stimulates you. You cry out, soaking his cock in your orgasm. The first time ever cumming around a cock. “Oh god.. I’m gonna cum so deep baby- I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you.” You squirm hard, trying to wiggle away, but he’s got you pinned. He draws his hand back, holding both of your wrists with both of his hands. He’s got a death grip on you.

He thrusts in as deep as he can and pauses, your eyes widen when you feel him. He cums right up against your wall, the force has your eyes widening.

You can’t believe him!

When he’s calmed down, you shove him back.

“Woah- hey. What’s wrong?”

You look pissed off.

“Y-you’re such an asshole!” You hiss. You hurry to tug your clothes back on but he’s trying to stop you the entire time.

“Don’t touch me!” You growl. “And don’t come near me again.” You go for his door and he tries to stop you but you slam the door behind yourself before he gets the chance.

“Shit.” He mumbles.

Just when you start to trust him, he fucks it all up.

[rainytapestry]

⭑｡𖦹°‧ㅤㅤBLUE ㅤ— ㅤㅤjay x f.reader ㅤㅤ wc 0.7k

where your boyfriend always knows a way to make your worries melt away

★ — hurt/comfort angst estd. relation fluff academic pressure :( jay being the sweetest bf

you looked at all the books and notes spread out in front of you, and the painfully waiting cursor of the blank document, as if urging you to start the assignment. but it felt… all too much, too overwhelming for you to even think about your pending works.

and before you knew it, a tear dropped down on the page, staining your messy handwriting. good here it goes again. you were tired of feeling tensed and worried about your studies.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rapid knocks and the bell. you turned to look at the time, 11pm. who could it even be at this late hour?

sighing, you got up to open the door before the person could ring the bell once more, only to be met with a very familiar face.

‘jay...? what are you doing here at this hour?’ you asked, unsure of how to approach the fact that your boyfriend was in front of your apartment at near midnight. the said boy who was standing quite tensed your doorstep, visibly frowned upon seeing you

‘yn, i was worried tensed! why did you not pick up my calls? you even left me on seen?! do you know how stressful that was? wait, are you…’ he trailed, finally getting a proper look at your face.

oh shit you had forgotten that your tears hadn't dried yet and he was met with a red and blotchy face.

jay quickly stepped into the apartment, his hands going up to your face, softly holding them.

‘what… happened?’ his voice was laced with concern. ‘uh, you were worried, for me?’ you refused to meet his eyes.

‘of course, babe! you are usually so active and present but all i have got are just a few messages and no calls, i thought you were sick!’ and his eyes held this earnest look, that almost made you want to start sobbing again.

as if sensing your emotions, he engulfed you in a hug and before you knew it, you were in his arms, tearing up yet again, your forehead resting on his shoulder.

‘i… i– i am sick, of this work and study and…’ you spoke through your tears, ‘jay, i don't think i can do this anymore, i feel so-so tired, it's…’ you could feel him rub small soothing circles on your back, nodding to your every word and never interrupting you, as if you could vent out all the frustration and pressure you had building in you.

the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, slowly calmed you down as you broke apart to look up at him, with a small pout. you mumbled a small sorry.

jay broke out in a smile, caressing your cheek, ‘it's okay, yn, you've been so strong and dedicated. it’s okay to let yourself catch a break, hm? it's okay to feel sad and unmotivated sometimes, right? because i know you can do it.’

‘b-but i’ ‘ssh, i trust you.’ and maybe that was all you needed to hear.

you could feel a small smile form on your face, heart a lot lighter than it had been a few minutes ago. and you couldn't thank jay enough for it.

‘okayyy now let's see how my girlfriend is doing, secluding herself like a saint, tell me the last time you had eaten, yn?’ he questioned you in a serious tone. you knew how serious he could get if you neglected your meals.

‘eh, yesterday i think…?’ ‘i'm pretty sure it was ramen.’ you guiltily nodded.

jay shook his head, not surprised but placed a firm kiss on your forehead. ‘ok, so, you, my girl, are going to sit down and relax while i make you something healthy and edible to eat. okay?’ he said, more like commanded.

you blushed at his actions before following him to the kitchen.

it was a common routine you both had fallen into, jay would cook, you would, well… try to assist.

and even though, jay protested about you helping him, you shrugged him off, just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.

‘and from now on, yn, please don't ghost me like this. i'm always here for you, love’, whispered close to your ears, pressing another small kiss to your cheek.

NOTES. hi i wrote this down cuz of the high level of procrastination and unproductivity ive been having despite my finals starting in a month :( it isnt the best feeling and i for anyone else who's going through the same, don't worry we'll get through this rough patch together >< tysm for reading this

div cttoㅤㅤ work belong to @ rainytapestry do not steal

[suchasurfriend]

real talk how did gary manage to tie dr crabblesnitch to his chair like this. like how did that interaction play out

[moonysweetheart]

.☘︎ ݁˖ New Beginnings 🏠︎

summary: when Remus and Yn moved to a house near his parents. Remus realised he, Yn, their friends, and their baby on the way were beginning a new chapter on life.

remus lupin x fem!reader

warnings: none I believe, mentions of pregnancy

word count: 937

“No, James! That box goes in the other room!” screamed the girl.

“Which one?” the boy shouted back.

“The one opposite the kitchen!”

“Oh, okay. Thanks, Dorcas!”

A loud thud was heard. Lily and Marlene exchanged amused, knowing glances.

“Be careful not to break their things, Potter!” Lily called out.

“I will, my love!” he yelled back, only for the sound of a box knocking against a wall to follow, causing his friends to erupt into laughter.

“Here,” Sirius announced, breathing heavily. “The last box.”

“Thanks, Siri,” Y/N said gently, giving two pats on his back. He smiled at her in return.

“You’re welcome, dovey.”

“I thought I already had a chat with you about that, Padfoot,” Remus muttered, appearing out of nowhere—or so Sirius thought.

Remus arched his eyebrows, his expression challenging, almost threatening, though Sirius knew it was a joke. “Only I can call her ‘dovey.’”

Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry, my good man, I was only being a gentleman.”

“No, you were being shameless.” Sirius grinned smugly at that.

“Come on, boys! I need your help organizing everything!” Y/N shouted.

“Sorry, but remind me again why you don’t just use a spell to arrange the house?” Sirius asked.

“Because Y/N wanted to move next to my parents, so my mother can help her during the pregnancy. And the Muggles would probably pass out if they saw such a thing,” Remus replied matter-of-factly.

“Just close the doors.”

“We haven’t put up the curtains yet, the windows are huge, and the only door that isn’t glass is the front one.”

“Riiight,” Sirius said mockingly, singing the word under his breath.

“Oh my God,” Lily gasped, smiling widely as Dorcas giggled behind her.

“What’s all the fuss about?” Marlene asked as she entered the room, the boys trailing behind her.

"The baby is kicking," Y/N chuckled, beaming with happiness. Remus swore his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her radiant smile as their eyes met.

“I am the luckiest wizard of our time,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, but just loud enough for James and Sirius to hear. The two men exchanged a satisfied glance.

“Come,” Y/N gestured for Remus to approach. “He likes it when you’re close.” And so he did.

The afternoon passed in a blur of laughter, jokes, and stolen moments. Dorcas found an old camera in one of Remus’s boxes and took countless photos of them, their goofy, happy faces captured forever—memories of a home. By mid-afternoon, a strong rain began to fall, and Y/N convinced everyone to stay.

“Please, it’s our first day in our house,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “H-o-u-s-e,” she spelled out, grinning like a child. “Not an apartment.” She jumped again. “A house.”

“I think they get it, love,” Remus said gently, watching her with an affectionate smile.

“I know, but I like saying it. And it’s only fitting that our friends spend our first day here with us.” She clapped her hands as a new idea struck her. “We can recount Hogwarts memories, play some games, and take more photos. We may be adults now, but we aren’t soulless.”

“She’s right!” Marlene called from the couch.

“See?” Y/N arched an eyebrow at Remus, who found himself smiling yet again. How could he not? She was light itself.

“And Peter is almost here,” James added.

“He really saved himself from all the hard work,” Sirius barked out a laugh.

“Let him be,” Lily scolded, hugging James at her side. “He’s in love, and his girlfriend needed him for an appointment.”

“Huh, he’d be a terrible boyfriend if he left her alone,” Dorcas muttered, examining a toy car Y/N had received from her in-laws.

“That’s right,” Marlene agreed.

“Excuses and more excuses,” Sirius declared dramatically, making his way to the kitchen to grab more food.

And so, they decided to have what Dorcas called a ‘pajama party.’ Blankets were strewn across the living room floor, and they resolved to sleep together just as they had in their Hogwarts days. Despite Remus’s concerns, Y/N insisted she would be fine.

“If anything, I’ll whisper in your ear when they’re all asleep so you can take me back to our room,” she murmured against his ear. He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Alright, madam.”

And just like that, they spent the night wrapped in memories, teasing, and warm embraces—like a family should.

Y/N never did ask to go to their bedroom, instead falling asleep on Remus’s chest. He couldn’t have been prouder.

Lily and James were entangled as always, a locket around her neck revealing a photo of their two-year-old son, Harry, who was currently at his grandparents’ house. On James’s wrist—the same arm wrapped around Lily’s waist—was the wristband Harry had made for him.

Dorcas and Marlene slept side by side, while Sirius, sprawled at their feet, had Marlene’s right foot nearly on his cheek. In his chest, curled in his hands, lay a small rat—Wormtail.

They were such a beautiful family, and Remus could not have been happier. Nor could he have been more excited about his new life and the fresh chapter ahead—next to the love of his life, in the home of their dreams, near his parents, and awaiting the arrival of their child.

A happy new beginning awaited them.

Hi, everyone! I've been really busy these past few days, but I'll do my best to stay active here. Kisses to you all!

If any of you would like to be on my tag list, just let me know. You can leave a comment or reply via my 'ask me something' button.

Take care! Bye!

[randomfoggytiger]

Tiger, don't deny what was obvious: they took advantage of the characters to make out all the time. No fictional couple was as effusive in physical contact as they were. And that's because they didn't get along - imagine if they did… even with their real-life partners they weren't as affectionate and, of course, their partners didn't like it - it was nitid that Gillian's husband was uncomfortable, and then Tea, who was an actress and disguised it better, but wasn't very comfortable either. And the current partners of the two I'm sure also prefer their interactions to be every ten years and, better still, remotely. The level of "clinginess" with the other colleagues in the series, doesn't reach 10% of what they had with each other - Gillian, by the way, was very restrained, David who was the most clownish. I don't think they've had any off-screen involvement and never will, but to deny and minimize the chemistry and absurd sexual tension they have is impossible, damn! It's no wonder that they were one of the only pairs that to this day have sparked comments about whether or not they're together. Patrick and Lisbon? Castle and Beckett? Starbuck and Apollo? Bones and Booth? Olivia and Peter? None of them made it. Why are you always so reluctant to admit it?

Let me put it this way:

She also suggested Gillian be naked "cheek-to-cheek" with her newly-wed husband; and by all accounts got along with GA quite well! :DD There's no evidence otherwise, and plenty of evidence for.

Further, DD and GA themselves didn't see the big deal in Mulder or Scully's kiss, or even the appeal of their chemistry until years later (with the benefit of hindsight.) It was just, as they both stated many times, work to them. At best, friends; at worst, frosty coworkers. And having seen their bts interactions and outtakes (yes, FTF kiss included), their behavior matches that thought. Gillian's not the only person David felt up, and vice versa.

Don't know about GA's ex, but Gillian's said she's a difficult person to live with-- I think she and PM prefer to keep separate houses to this day, right? And that's not a knock on her, of course. (I think David, pre-Tea, said the same; and likewise for him.) Just an acknowledgement that, per her own words, her first marriage was rushed into and rocky because her strong personality misaligned with her first husband's. But it also didn't align well enough with David to tempt either to pursue a deeper relationship.

"Why are you always so reluctant to admit it?" Oh, I'm not. XDDD They had/have great chemistry, but they're not the only ones. If you look back to Old Hollywood, there are plenty of examples; and if you interview any actress, then and now, they'll all state that everyone always assumes they're in bed with or dating their costars. Lastly... maybe I'm too cynical, but standing across from another person reading the same lines five to six times in a row, breaking for lunch, and doing it again with lunch breath, day-in-and-out, five-to-six days a week, nine-to-ten months a year does not a romance usually further. Especially when neither is in the habit of communicating.

Everything must be taken in context: the idea that they were both drawn to each other but held apart by, *gasp*, forces against their will... doesn't add up, particularly when DD and GA had a window of opportunity here or there to act on if they wanted. They didn't; to this day, they don't really know each other well.

Also: "Gillian, by the way, was very restrained, David who was the most clownish"... I disagree. Combine the fact that she affectionately grapples onto others openly (example here) with the admittance that that she relied on DD to teach her the ropes in Season 1 (per her own words) and with our knowledge that she's naturally shy, and we can collect a few data points (then verify with footage from their red carpet events): David does the same thing he always does-- hand at back, arm on shoulder, head-tilt to the side, etc.-- because he doesn't change; and GA does what she always does-- lean in, reach out, tease, let him lean in so she can hear him (he's tall)-- because she doesn't change.

That's just who she is-- physically effusive-- and just who he is-- physically reassuring. It made for great tv... but, to be honest, nobody really talks about either of them anymore off of Tumblr (and maybe Twitter) except to remember/rewatch the "good old days" fondly or hope to see them again in some new MOTW or mytharc episode.

TLDR: they had fantastic, very rare chemistry; but they alone weren't the only tv/movie couples to be talked about (especially after the relationship resolved on-screen.) DD, GA, Tea, etc. are built different. And sometimes/most often, chemistry isn't all that will make a relationship work-- in my humble opinion, that's merely a fraction of the whole. :D

[r4fe-cam3ron]

𓍯 ִֶָ FEBRUARY FOURTH; side a — about you - the 1975 | d. lizewski x reader

w; dave & r is aged up (both in their twenties!), ‘old flames’ (really just best friends - who have lost touch but still remember everything about one another - to lovers) reunite, i sort of change the story about his dad (he’s still kick a—!) an; i had to change up his dad’s story about getting beaten </3 for the plot to work. i hope no one minds and everyone enjoys at least!!!!

mixtape here!

Your chin rests in the palm of your hands as your eyes glance around the restaurant, fingers slowly tapping against the table as you let out a small sigh. Leaning back, your eyes look down at your phone to check the time and to see if any messages have suddenly appeared. 

Nothing. And an hour late. 

Rubbing your forehead in embarrassment, you stand from your chair and ignore the looks from the many people who sit together with a stupid little red rose and stupid little candles. 

Slipping on your jacket, you quickly grab your clutch and make your way out of the restaurant without a single word to anyone. It’s eight now, and you’d gotten dressed up for nothing. 

You’re aimlessly walking around now — not quite ready to go home, yet not quite sure where to go either. 

Until you’re met with the sight of the familiar comic shop that you used to go to regularly with friends. You don’t go as much anymore — if you do, it’s strictly for a family member’s birthday or to stop by and get coffee, and maybe look to see what all has changed. 

Which, nothing has. It’s a bit brighter inside with new paint and new lights, but other than that, nothing else has changed. Stepping towards the counter, you smile at the teenager behind it. “One iced caramel latte, please.” 

She nods, putting in the order. “Anything else?” 

Glancing over at the case of pastries, you point at a muffin. “A blueberry muffin as well, please.” The girl nods once again, entering it before telling you the price. Handing over the cash, plus a tip for her being so nice — and for working on the suckiest holiday of the year — you step away after telling her your name. 

You walk slowly around the collection of comics, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips. You wished you could go back to being a teenage girl — who had been constantly considered ‘weird’ — even if that meant figuring everything out once again. 

Part of you thinks that, maybe, if you would have the chance to go back, there’s a lot more you would’ve changed. Maybe admitted to others. 

The wave of nostalgia almost knocks you off your feet from the nausea it gives you suddenly. Shaking your head, you pick a superhero that you always gravitate towards — Spider-man. 

You pick up your treats from the counter and make your way towards a table, slipping into a booth and laying everything out before opening the comic book. 

You forget how much the silly little things can pull you in — you hadn’t realized the numbness in your legs, or that the ice in your drink had now melted, watering down the coffee and droplets had left a ring around it. 

Or that someone was in front of you. 

“I see you still get pulled into the pages.” 

Startled, you blink a couple of times and quickly look up at the man who stands in front of the table. Lips parting, your heart drops. “Dave?” 

He grins and nods. “The one and only.” 

Laughing slightly, you slip out of the booth and quickly pull him into a hug. “Oh, my god. Look at you!” You pull away, your hands gripping onto his biceps. “Your…hair! It’s gone!” 

He lets out a small chuckle. “And I hit puberty, finally. So you can’t laugh at me anymore about my squeaky voice.” 

You make a face at that. “Sorry about that.” 

“It was all done in fun,” His brow lifts slightly. “Wasn’t it?” 

“What? Of course it was,” You nod quickly, flushing under his gaze. “I’d never intentionally make fun of you.” 

His demeanor slightly falls before he lets out a soft chuckle. “I know that. I was only teasing,” His eyes fell into the red dress that you’d picked out specifically for today. “Hot date?” 

Looking down at the dress, you tug at the material. “No. Stood me up so I just left,” You shrug a bit. “It was embarrassing walking out to say the least.” 

“He stood you up? There’s no way,” He lets out a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whoever it is, is clearly missing out.” 

“You’re just saying that.” You roll your eyes, collecting your trash so he wouldn’t catch onto the redness that caught your cheeks aflame. 

“I’m being serious!” He watches as you toss the items, picking up the comic book. He follows behind you, lips pursing a bit before clearing his throat. “Let me take you out.” 

You stop abruptly, causing him to stumble into your back, his hands quickly shooting out to stabilize himself on your arms. “What?” 

“Would it be so weird?” He shrugs as you turn to face him. “You’re already dressed up. Plus, we were best friends,” Your eyes drop down to the ground at that. 

“You can let me take you out on one date. Then you can pretend I never exist again.” 

You frown and quickly look at him. “Dave, I could never forget you,” You shake your head, pinching your brows together. “You were…” Trailing off, your heart skips a beat in your chest as your eyes linger on his blue ones. 

“You were special to me. We just…fell out of contact, is all.” 

Dave nods and glances at the comic in your hand. He reaches out and slowly pulls it from your hand, slipping it back into its designated spot before holding his hand. “Then let me take you out. Just this once.” 

Glancing down at his hand, you place yours into his. He smiles and grips your hand softly, pulling you towards the door without a second thought. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, curiously. If he were to lead you blindly into a burning building, you don’t think you would’ve cared. 

He glances over at you, a small smile pulling at his lips as he shrugs. “For me to know.” 

“And for me to find out.” You sigh playfully, shaking your head. He chuckles and comes to a stop. 

“Wait here,” You watch as he jogs back, confused but you do as he had said, looking around at the busy street and sidewalk, smiling a bit at the loud laughter and singing coming from all around. 

Dave comes back five minutes later, hands behind his back. You turn and lift your brows, tilting your head. “Alright…you’re worrying me now.” That has him chuckling. 

He pulls his arm from behind his back, your smile dropping slightly as you stare at the flowers in his hand — that just so happens to be your favorite. 

He clears his throat a bit. “I remember you saying something about liking these. And I needed to start the date off right.” 

“I said those were my favorite in middle school, Dave—”

“Do you…not like these anymore? I can go and—”

You quickly cut him off. “No. I mean, yes. I still love them. I’m just…” You let out a small laugh, truly in awe about how he even remembered such a small detail about you. “I don’t know how you remembered those were my favorite.” 

He scratches at the side of his neck, shrugging. “I just remember.” 

You smile and gently pull them from his grip, the brown paper crinkling in your hands. “Thank you,” You stare at the petals before your eyes lift and meet his. “I can’t remember when the last time I got flowers was.” 

Never. 

The answer was simply never. No boy — or man, now — has stopped to get you flowers as a simple gift. Not that it’s a necessity to bring flowers to a date, but taking the time and showing you care… 

It’s something that, now you can admit, can make a heart skip a beat. 

He smiles softly and nods. “Yeah…” He clears his throat as he pushes his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Of course. Yeah. I just…I thought it’d be nice.” 

“This was very nice,” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip slightly, the action having his blue eyes drop for a second before looking back up. “Well, Lizewski, lead the way.” 

He smiles a bit and nods, beginning to walk down the sidewalk, your feet following beside him. 

After a couple of moments, he stops abruptly and turns towards you, causing your brows to pinch together in confusion as you look over at him. “Are you—”

“Close your eyes,” He nudges his chin towards you. A small playful smile spreads over his lips when he notices how confused you look at the request. “Just do it.” 

“You aren’t going to—”

“No,” He laughs softly, knowing what you were going to ask. Taking a step over to stand in behind you, his hand grazes your arm as he turns you a bit. Sighing, you give in and allow your eyes to slip shut. You suddenly feel his hands covering your eyes as well. 

“Is this really necessary?” 

“Yes,” His voice is soft and your breath hitches from how close he truly is. “Trust me.” 

You’re rendered speechless only for a moment before you quickly nod. “I do.” 

He smiles softly, allowing you to lead the way as you follow his instructions blindly. “…Okay, stop,”

Your movements cease and you feel the warmth of him disappear — slightly disappointed. “Open.” His voice is now coming from your left side. 

Your eyes slowly open, adjusting a bit to the change of lighting. Your lips part in surprise before a smile tugs at your lips. “It’s still here?” You look away from the treehouse, instead looking at Dave. 

He smiles and nods. “Of course,” He motions towards the house he grew up in. “Dad left the house to me in the will.” 

Your smile slowly fades, shoulders dropping slightly. “James died?” 

He nods a bit. “Sadly, that’s the only reason I’m back,” He clears his throat. “But after cleaning everything out and putting the house on the market—”

“You’re not staying?” 

He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head hesitantly. “No. I’m going back home.” 

I’m going back home. 

It’s not much of anything, but the words have your heart twisting in a painful way and your eyes drop towards the flowers as you nod slightly. He would be leaving you — again. 

But you will not be selfish. Even if you want to. 

“Alright, let’s climb up and see what we used to hide away, shall we?” 

Your eyes lift and a small smile pulls at the corner of your mouth but never fully expands to anything more. You nod and walk towards the tree, placing your flowers onto the chair next to it before crawling up the ladder. 

Pushing the door open, you push yourself up and crawl inside before standing and dusting off your legs. Looking around, the wave of nostalgia is suddenly hitting you once again, almost knocking you back onto the ground. 

Stepping closer to the carving you’d once done, your fingers trace over the initials, a small laugh leaving your lips as your head tilts. 

“Oh, god,” You quickly look over your shoulder, noticing the box Dave was holding. “The green and yellow suit.” You let out a laugh when he holds it up, shaking it a bit. 

You cover your mouth when you notice the look he gives you. “Sorry.” You quickly apologize. 

“You laughing at the super suit?” 

“Uh,” You glance at the suit that he holds in his hands once again, before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” You let out another laugh. He smiles and rolls his eyes, grabbing the mask from the bottom and tosses the box onto the wooden ground. 

He steps over and tugs it down on your head, grinning. “Mhm,” He nods. “You do look like a dork in this.” 

“Ha-ha. Funny,” You roll your eyes, despite the smile that remains glued onto your face. You tug the mask from your head. He lifts his hands and quickly fixes the strands of hair that had covered your face. 

You gulp quietly, feeling the pad of his thumb brush over your cheek as he does so. “Thanks.” 

He nods and pulls his hands away, now turning and sitting down on the small dusty blanket in the corner. Your face scrunches a bit when he does. 

He pats the spot beside him wordlessly. You make your way over and sit next to him, the mask still in your hands. Thumbing the material, you lean your head back on the wood. 

“Are you still…?” 

He bites his cheek slightly before nodding a bit. “I’ll always be,” His eyes linger on the mask in your hands. “Even if I’m not actively out and saving people like I used to when I was a…teenager — God, a teenager,” 

He lets out a small sound of disbelief as he shakes his head. “A part of that is still with me. No matter how much I kind of wish it wasn’t.” 

You nod in understanding. “You got hurt. A lot.” 

“That I did.” He smirks a bit — though, it’s not an amused one. 

You debate on what you're about to say. Tell him now and regret it later. 

Or never say anything and still regret it. 

Inhaling deeply, you will yourself to calm down before speaking. “I thought that first time — when you went into the hospital and your dad called me — that I had…” You pause. You can feel his eyes on you now, rather than the mask in your hands. 

“But, when I came to visit you, you were okay,” You smiled a bit with a nod. “That calmed me. Then, long story short, I found out why you’d ended up in the hospital,” 

You look over at him. “I remember asking you to stop because I didn’t want you to get hurt or worse,” He nods a bit. “You told me I didn’t understand and I never would. Then, Katie and you became a thing and suddenly…you’d listened to her,”

He frowns and looks away quickly. “I’m not mad about it. I mean, at first I was — because I had been your best friend and I thought maybe you’d listen to me, yet you just kind of shrugged me off. But when Katie asked you, you had no problem with the idea,” You shrug a bit. “I was also just a teenager trying to…navigate my feelings. I got angry at you, more than I probably should have.” 

“You never…told me. Or even showed it.” 

“That’s because I loved you, Dave,” He quickly looks back at you. You give him a weak smile and quickly look away when you feel the upcoming tears suddenly tingle and prick at your eyes. You laugh at yourself airly, shaking your head. “And that was a hard thing to feel because I was so…confused. I had never felt that way towards anyone before,” 

“And I was trying to figure out why I would keep letting you in when you’d get hurt and…” You’re now regretting dredging up the past. Because that’s exactly where it’s supposed to stay — in the past. “And I finally figured out when you had left without even really saying anything to me. Not that you had to, because I understand why you wanted to leave, but it still hurt all the same.” 

Dave blinks a couple of times at your words but remains staring at you as he does so. He clears his throat, mouth opening and shutting a few times before only saying; “You loved me?” 

You nod your head. “Yeah. Of course,” You tuck your hair behind your ear and finally place the mask down on the blanket next to you. “It wasn’t just because I grew up with you, it was just because it was…easy,” You shrug. 

“It was easy to love you and I always thought…” You trail off, eyes cutting towards the side to glance out the small window. 

“Thought what?” He asks softly. 

“I had always thought you and I both would’ve…ended up together,” You lean your head back. “It’s a bit silly now to say, especially when I know you had never viewed me that way back then. It was just the typical white fence, big wedding, two kids, type of dream I had.” 

“Why do you think I never thought of you in the same way?” He shakes his head. 

“Oh, come on,” You let out a small scoff, looking over at him. He genuinely looks confused and you lift your head from the wall. “You had gotten Katie. Katie, Dave. You would’ve never gone after someone like me.” 

“That’s not true,” He sits up, pointing towards you. Your brows lift slightly. “That is so not true. I used to try to get you to go on dates with me all the time.” 

“Asking if I wanted to go to the movies — like we always did, might I add — was not asking me on a date,” You let out a small laugh. “Especially if Todd and Marty were joining,” 

He frowns and looks down. You sigh and drop your hand on top of his. “Dave, it’s okay. Really. It’s over now and—”

“Do you still feel the same?” He cuts you off quickly. You stare at him as if you had imagined him saying it. 

After a moment of silence and a slight, silent urge of lifted brows, you speak. “I-I mean…” You purse your lips, your heart beating in your throat now instead of it staying where it needed to stay. 

“I don’t think loving someone ever comes to an end,” You shake your head. “Especially after loving them for so long.” 

Dave stares at you silently for a moment before surging forward and catching your lips with his, his hands cradling your jaw. The initial shock wears off quickly and your fingers are finally wrapping around his wrist gently. 

He slowly pulls away, still staying close where you could feel his breath brush over your lips and the top of his lip graze your own. 

“Did that just—”

“Yeah.” He cuts you off with a whisper. 

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Teenage me is screaming,” You whisper. He snorts, pressing another soft kiss against your lips before the corner of your mouth. “But you didn’t have to do that.” 

He pulls his forehead away from yours, tilting his head a bit. “I wanted to,” He nods. “I’ve always wanted to. I was just too scared to put myself out on the line for you. But I should’ve.” 

“You should’ve,” You nod, leaning into his hand the remains on your cheek. “Are you still going to leave?” You whisper. His eyes remain on yours, a small smile on his face. 

“I think I found a reason to stay.” 

𓍯 ִֶָ tags; @ali-r3n — @marchsfreakshow — @sstar-ggirl — @pretty-little-mind33 — @love-quinn

𓍯 ִֶָ thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, & feedback are welcome & greatly appreciated!

[salty-autistic-writer]

Little Big Clingy Octopus

For @bucktommyfluffebruary, Day 4: "Clingy Boyfriends"

The break-up lasted an agonising long week. 

A week filled with baking. Crying. Aggressively knocking at doors until the neighbours looked out of their windows, shaking their heads. More baking. Crying. Screaming at each other. Crying together. Passing out in Tommy’s bed, exhausted. Drained of energy and words. Yeah. It’s been a ride.

Words were said. Boundaries were set. Questions were asked and answered. Issues, secrets, nightmares, dreams, fears and hopes were uncovered.

Once the storm passes, their world recovers and they start moving back towards each other. Carefully first, almost shyly, all too aware of the fragility of a moment. But soon enough, they fall into a familiar, yet new, rhythm and stop walking on eggshells.

In the aftermath, Tommy starts to ask for things he likes or wants with a confidence that wasn’t there before. He's not holding back anymore. It makes Buck feel warm inside. Everything is … softer now. Now and then, their hearts still remember the storm and remember old fears, but all the talking they missed in the early stages of their fast-moving relationship, they do now.

They are in bed, their bodies entangled in every way possible, warm soft skin pressed together. Tommy’s head rests on Buck’s arm, his eyes closed. The morning sun catches in his tousled curls, making them shine golden. His lips are parted slightly and his breaths even. Seems like he dozed off again.

Buck watches Tommy and he could stay here forever, but spots on his body start to tingle uncomfortably and he will need the toilet soon. Not right now though. Not while Tommy is clinging to him like …

“Like an octopus,” Buck mutters absently, chuckling as the picture of Tommy with eight arms forms in his mind.

“Hmmm?” Tommy stirs, raising his head from Buck’s arm and blinking sleepily.

“You remind me of an octopus when you’re like that. Did you know they have three hearts?”

“Oh. Wow. Must hurt so bad if they get broken,” Tommy mumbles. Then grimaces. “Sorry.”

“Are you alright?” Buck asks, noticing Tommy tensing slightly.

Tommy sighs. “Yeah. I just … had some dreams tonight. Of the bad kind.”

“Oh.” Buck swallows, thinking of his own nightmares. They still smell vaguely like lemon loaf and loneliness. He strokes down the curve of Tommy’s back.  “Don’t listen to them. This is real.”

Tommy smiles weakly. “Well. Me sometimes being an idiot is real too.”

“You’re my idiot. And I’m yours. Idiot for idiot.”

Tommy raises a brow. “Hm. I can live with being an idiot if I’m not the only one in the room, I guess.”

He flinches and chuckles when Buck pinches his side, snuggling even closer. Buck hums and buries his nose in Tommy’s hair, closing his eyes for a moment. Just feeling. Floating. Basking in warmth.

“This is not too much, right?” Tommy mutters, a hint of old insecurity in his voice. “You’d tell me if I’m too clingy?”

“You’ll never be too much. I have to pee though,” Buck says regretfully. “But I will come back.”

Tommy makes a sad noise. “What if I don’t want to let go?”

Buck grins. “My little big clingy octopus. You don’t have to. Hold on.”

“What - No. Evan, that’s not a good idea.”

“Come on. I want to try.”

“I have to show up at work tomorrow, Evan. I can’t break my back!”

“I won’t let you fall. What do you think all that weightlifting is for? Just hold on, okay? On three. One, two, three. See?”

(AO3 Link)

[halexxsam]

Can I request a fic about the ghouls and Copia? Perhaps about the first time the pack kidnapped him for a cuddle pile. Copia was going through a tough day, and maybe he was feeling lonely and down. And the ghouls sensed it. So they literally straight up kidnap him from his room and take him to the den where he experiences his first cuddle pile

Stressed out

Characters: dewdrop, aether, mountain, swiss, rain, cirrus, cumulus, copia

tags:

words: 1360

read below the cut! (coming to a03 shortly)

It was a few days after the pack arrived back at the Ministry from the Copia's first tour as Papa. The pack was just at that stage where they emerge from their rooms and want the touch of the others.

Now, the whole pack was scattered across the den. Dewdrop and Aether occupied the love seat, the mated pair tied up in each other. It was hard to see where one started and one ended. Mountain was laying across the couch, his ankles dangling off the ends. His arms were bent behind his head, arms and biceps a delectable view for his pack. Swiss and Rain immediately gravitated towards him, sitting delicately on his lap, Rain leaning into Swiss, neck bared for him. Cirrus and Cumulus sat on the huge bean bag, the ghoulettes sinking into it, only their tails were seen under the large blanket they pulled over them. The den was filled with the sounds of purring and chuffing, the ghouls relishing in the touch of each other.

Aether was first to pull away and stretch out, bones cracking as he pulled his arms above his head, a small groan escaping him. Dew laughed at his mate. "Good stretch, big guy?"

The quintessence ghoul just smirked, his tail coming to swat at his mate's leg. "I'm gonna get some food, any requests?"

"Oh! I want pizza!" Swiss said, jumping up a bit, causing Mountain to let out a punched breath as Swiss' knee made contact with his stomach.

"Calm down, puppy. You'll get your pizza," Mountain laughed out, pulling Swiss down and moving his knee away.

Aether grabbed his shoes, intent on making his way to the kitchen. "Alright, Pizza it is, you bossy ghoul!"

Dew laughed, throwing his mate a jacket. "Love you."

Aether chuffed, smiling. He shut the door to the den and started the cold walk to the kitchen, the abbey being so old that heating was something they didn't feel was necessary to add in. Sister said that it took away from the atmosphere. Aether didn't make it to the kitchen, though, as he got hit with a terrible smell. He followed it to the Papa wing, slowly walking down the hallway.

When he hit Copia's room, he recoiled. Just from outside, Aether could feel extreme bouts of loneliness and depression. The ghoul let out a sad sound, hand itching to just open up his Papa's door and figure out what was wrong. If Aether learned anything on tour, it was that his Papa was a private man, he wouldn't appreciate someone bargaining into his room, no matter if they had good intentions.

"Papa?" Aether knocked, feet shuffling softly. "Is everything alright?"

He hears a weird noise, almost like a ton of books and papers landing on the desk. "Eh, My ghoul! Yes, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Aether muttered, "You don't...can I come in?"

When Papa didn't answer, Aether shrugged, deciding it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. "Alright, I'm coming in."

When he opened the door, his frown worsened as he saw the state his Papa was in. Copia was dressed in his sweatpants and a hoodie, Mountain's old one by the looks of it. He was hunched over his desk, piling of papers almost as high as him. His hair was out of place, eye's red and sore. It was like he didn't even hear Aether come into his room.

"Oh, Papa, are you okay?" Aether said, bounding over to the man, hands shaking at the rush of emotions his quintessence picks up.

Copia looked up at his ghoul beneath his paperwork. Aether couldn't keep the sad sound from erupting, heart breaking at the mere sight of despair and tiredness coming from him. "I'm alright, just lots of work to catch up on after the tour, you know?"

Aether came up and placed a hand on Copia's cheek, the man sagging into his hold pitifully. "Oh papa," He said sadly, his quintessence reaching out and working on undoing his stress. "Come on with me and the pack. We miss you."

He watched how his Papa pulled away and glanced at his paperwork, grumbling about some tax form. "I wish, my ghoul, but Sister demands the paperwork be done."

Aether tsked, "Forget what Sister says, she can't work you to the bone for months and then expect you to bounce back and do paperwork. We all had time to relax, and you need time too."

When Copia didn't make a move, Aether made the decision for him. He bent down and picked up his Papa, slinging him over his shoulder.

"Gah! Aether! What are you doing?!" Copia yelled, quickly grabbing onto his shirt for security.

"I told you, you need to relax, and we miss you."

Copia grumbled but went limp anyway, legs resting and head bobbing as Aether carried him down the hall to the den. He shut his eyes, enjoying the feel of his ghoul and the warmness and comfort he began to feel. He yelped when he was moved, Aether pulling him down and plopping him on the couch, grabbing hold of the couch cushion. Before he could even scan his eyes across the room, he heard the loud purrs of a ghoul underneath him.

Mountain's hand came up to his Papa's hip, securing him on his lap. "Hi Papa," he mumbled out, smiling up at him. "Finally came to your senses, hm?"

Copia laughed, looking at Aether. "I wish, but no. Aether dragged me away from my paperwork."

"Good," Mountain chuffed, pulling on his element to release a soothing lavender smell.

He held onto his Papa as the rest of the pack started to assemble a nest of pillows and blankets on the floor. Rain and Swiss ventured into the dorms, arms overflowing with everyone's personal furs and laundry, stuffing them into the gaps. The girls started to braid their hair, the ghouls always ended up laying on it and pulling it. Dew and Aether prepared snacks and brought some water bottles and lined it all up on the outside of the nest, just close enough so that no one would have to leave.

Copia poked Mountain, grabbing his attention. "Erm, what are they doing?"

"They are making a nest." He answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What for?"

Mountain laughed a bit, before realizing his Papa was serious. "It's for us, all of us. Ghouls will make big nests for their entire pack, it's meant for bonding and re-establishing a connection, or just simple comfort."

Copia moved his head like a cat watching a goldfish in a bowl. "So," he paused, watching at how Dewdrop started building up a two pillow wall, "We lay in it, together?"

The earth ghoul hummed. "We are comfort creatures, you know this. This is how we provide comfort."

"And I'm...pack?"

At that, everyone stopped and looked at him. "Of course you are, Papa. You've always been pack." Rain said, coming up to the pair.

Soon enough, they were all cuddled up in the nest. Copia remained on Mountain's lap, now laying down with his head in the crook of his neck, the ghouls long arms wrapped around his waist. Rain laid on one of Mountain's shoulders, a hand thumbing over the bit of Papa's hip exposed from his shirt. Swiss was on the other side, already conked out and drooling down Mountain's arm. Bracketed in Rain's legs sat Dewdrop and Cumulus, cuddled up closely while the ghoulette braided Dew's hair. Sitting next to Swiss was Aether, his arm extended around both the multi ghoul and Mountain. On his lap sat Cirrus, who was nodding off and mumbling something Aether couldn't understand.

Eventually, everyone was purring again, Copia completely engulfed by his ghouls. His scent mellowed out, smelling more like his usual oak and flowers. He felt relaxed for the first time since they came home from tour, and by looking at his ghouls, they were happier with him around. He tucks that thought away for later, promising himself to spend more time with them. They loved him, and he loved them too.

[taeaura]

The Over-Simplification of Thomas Hewitt

TW: Self-harm, Self-mutilation, Rape {only mentioned twice, and very brief}, Hoyt warning, TCM-Canon-Typical Violence

Thomas {Hewitt} is such a complex character that I feel is taken to such extremes - he's either oversimplified or outrageously radical. For example: The two most-common tropes I see for him {which I'm not demeaning, just critiquing} are A.) He's an extremely sadistic, unforgiving maniac who has no form of empathy or depth to him {this trope usually makes him a rapist, sex-fiend, or someone who uses sex as a way to resolve disagreements.} B.) An extremely-traumatized individual who can do no wrong, doesn't understand the weight of his actions, a consistently-scared man who's socially unaware of EVERYTHING, and just generally a character with no depth. {This trope ALSO usually portrays Thomas as a sex-fiend as well as someone who uses sex as a form of apology.} The truth is - Thomas is such a complex man; Not only in his character but truly in his nature {which I guess is another word for character but whtever.} YES; He is sadistic. YES; He's traumatized. Yes; He's socially unaware at times - But he's NEITHER of those extremes - at least not by default. I understand the first trope , considering he does appear that way to victims - especially Kemper and Bailey. That being said, he {in the mentality of Thomas} had "valid" reasons to target those two: Bailey referred to him as a "what" {"What is that?"} and Kemper barged into the house uninvited. Thomas knows Erin was invited, he was watching through the basement peephole. He knew Andy wasn't invited based off the way Monty treated him. Also - let's address an obvious-but-often-overlooked aspect of Thomas' "killing patterns": The men he kills - the masks he makes - the way he treats the "masks-to-be" all seem to hint at his potential jealously and envy. He tortured Eric by skinning his fuckin arms - he knocked Kemper out with a sledge hammer and presumably {implied by him picking up a chain of meat hooks} attaches him to a meat hook. Kemper's WAKING UP on a meat hook just to get killed and skinned. Thomas' forms of catharsis are destructive in nature - which seem to extend beyond his victims. In the unrated version of the film, during the "first supper" scene, as Thomas rests his arms against the head crest of the dining chair {this is the most popular GIF of him}, there's multiple scars around his arms - all which vary in size, depth, and location. Sure, these could be work-related accidents, which I'm sure some are, but some seem to be a form of self-harm as well. I wouldn't be surprised if the majority are self-inflicted; Considering Thomas has no other outlet of emotional regulation or consistent support system. To get into further detail, let's break down his prominent character traits individually:

Protective + Family Oriented {and Selfless}

It's very obvious that Thomas is protective, both of his things and his people. He's not possessive, at least not in my interpretation. His devotion to his family comes in selfless ways; Including sacrificing his own safety just to keep the family alive and well - Together. He refused to stop chasing Erin; Even after injuring his leg and losing his arm. He killed the slaughterhouse manager because he insulted his family; Insulting him and his family's hard work to survive. He lost not only his job and his purpose that day, but his family's main income. His selflessness often leads to him getting taken advantage of and overworked. For example; The family fully relies on him and Hoyt for their survival; Though mostly Thomas. Hoyt can do enough, sure, but if Thomas was gone, the whole family would go with him one way or another. I find he genuinely doesn't view himself "on their level." As in he's subservient to them. This post is essentially the essence Im hinting at. He focuses on his purpose - If that purpose isn't fulfilled, "I haven't done enough - I'm not trying hard enough - The family's not proud of me - They shouldn't be proud of me - ect."

Reserved / Distant

Thomas is very reserved which is very obviously a defense mechanism developed in early childhood. He's distant not only because of his trauma, but his personality as well. I've always interpreted him as a natural introvert - which would've been amplified if he so happens to be autistic. Of course, not all autistic individuals are introverted, I just figured because of his predisposed characteristics. Thomas prefers to observe rather to interact; Almost acting as a shadow amongst concrete - Or a fly upon the wall: Watching every movement and discerning every sound. I talk more about this in a previous post.

Cautious {and Selective}

Adding on to the previous segment, Thomas is very cautious {and selective} with the people he surrounds himself with. Strangers? Absolutely not - unless it's obligatory. His family? Yes. I think this traces back to his trauma and social anxiety; His speech impediment makes it excruciatingly difficult to socialize, further isolating himself and his family from 'evil outside' civilizations. Hoyt's consistent hatred for 'hippy' city-slingers and the family's already-biased ignorant and overly-traditional values make Thomas' social pool a drying puddle.

Judgmental, Envious, {and Violent}

To add onto Hoyt's hatred for city-slinging, draft-dodging, hippy protesters; This hate definitely rubs off on Thomas. He's judgmental - both for survival and out of envy. His momma's "Christian teachings" about how full of sin the world is surely don't help the judgment issues. It's a calamitous cycle which gets worse with each year they spend in solitude. Their fear of society - fear of judgment - keeps them hidden from the rest of the world: Abandoned by the government as they're forced to fend for themselves. Forced to lay low within the shadows so they can remain together, as opposed to rotting in separate jail cells. In a way, it's their own "solitary confinement." Solitary confinement can cause an increase in violence / violent tendencies - Which is no surprise in the case of the Hewitt family. According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness,

"Those with mental illness are overrepresented in solitary confinement, despite the vulnerability and threats to the mental health of those incarcerated. Research shows that the effects of solitary confinement on mental health are often fatal, both during and after incarceration. Half of all suicides in prisons and jails occur in solitary confinement. A recent study shows the long-lasting effects; that any amount of time spent in solitary increases the risk of death in the first year after release. Individuals were overall 24% more likely to die in the first year after release, including from suicide (78% more likely) and homicide (54% more likely). They were also 127% more likely to die of an opioid overdose in the first two weeks after release."

How does this relate to judgment and envy? I'll tell you:

Thomas is so conspicuously envious - We can see it in every scene with Eric. When he beats the shit out of Eric whilst caressing his face in admiration - Only to calculatingly caress his own in desperation. The way he gasps once he sees Kemper's wedding ring {for Erin} - Only to follow it up with wearing his face to visit her?? His envy comes out as judgment; His anxiety comes out as judgment. His judgment comes out as violence. It's a continuous cycle which he's learned over time from multiple sources.

Creative, Appreciative, Resourceful

Do I even have to explain this one? Nah I'm kidding.

Thomas is a creative and skilled individual who knows taxidermy, sewing, patchwork, leather-working/smith, all that jazz. It's not only a form of catharsis, but a form of hiding himself from the world. He takes pieces of what he finds beautiful, stitches them together, and presents himself as that "collection" of beauty. It's his way to turning himself "beautiful." This leads me to believe he finds beauty in the smallest things. A decaying carcass? A new mask. Withered and rusting jewelry? A new accessory. Left-behind tools? His tools now. He takes care of the things he loves, and loves to take care of what's been forgotten. He's appreciative of small things; Especially considering the Hewitt family didn't {and still doesn't} have much but themselves and their old farm. He notices the small things. The usually insignificant, under-appreciated, forgotten things. Maybe it's out of necessity; Maybe it's because he feels he's one of those things - Just not one deserving of the same grace.

Reliant {and Independant}

Notice how the family always calls for Thomas? They call multiple times, sure, but that seems to be more out of annoyance than worry. They know Thomas will get the job done - He always does - and he does it damn well. He works hard; He was quite literally one of the slaughterhouse's hardest workers. He worked 'till he was forced out of there. Thomas is stubborn, sure, but it helps get his work done. And - it keeps him safe.

Besides meal-prep, housing, cleaning, and transport, Thomas is very independent. He can hunt forage his own food; Protect himself and others; Make his own clothes; Hell, he'd learn how to cook and clean if he needed to. He doesn't really need transport - at least not in his mind. He's content - He'll make do with what he has. It's like the quote from 'Pearl' "One day you will understand that getting what you have isn't what's important - Making the most of what you have is."

___

Apologies for this being relatively short compared to my other previous analyses; My brain's been kinda foggy recently but we're recovering!

Tommy my beloved socially awkward {autistic} Texan🫀

[mimipolo]

Kim seo-wan x reader

THANKS FOR THE RESPONSES I was gonna do it anyway cause well I can

Anyways enjoy‼️

dk

Its been a while since you've seen Kim seo-wan. Help, it's been a while since anyone's seen him. You had carefully held your tongue for a week, keeping a careful eye out for him whenever you left your apartment, the study hall, the food stalls, the gaming rooms. But after a week of careful observation and no sign of him you were growing confused and increasingly worried.

And so you find yourself knocking cautiously at the door of the Kim household. You're not surprised to be welcomed in my his mother, a small, gentle woman with gorgeous eyes, he definitely got it from her. The only thing out of place was the melancholic smile she gave when she realised it was you.

"Good evening Mrs Kim it's been a while hasn't it? I haven't seen Seo-wan around recently did he move out?" she chuckled with a slight bitterness that immediately had you on edge.

"It has been a little while hasn't it?..." her features soften at your tense expression, it just hurt to see the kind lady look so stressed.

"Why don't you come in for a bit?" she's opening the door wider for you to enter and guiding you to the living room and preparing tea.

-

You already knew something was off, it was unlike Mrs Kim to invite you in when Seo-wan wasn't around and that's saying a lot as you weren't particularly close to begin with, but apparently you've taken a mark in his mother's good books.

"Seo-wan's a hard working boy... always studying." you nod enthusiastically you could begin to imagine otherwise. "Of course, almost too much." she chuckles again, the same bitter one she had at the door as she nods her head.

"You're right dear, too much..."

Everything seemed to tilt on its axis when she explained the situation, it was like hearing about a completely different person. Schizophrenia? You just couldn't begin to imagine, not him. But that was the problem you never would have that it'd strike him of all people. And the worst of it was the all consuming guilt for not picking up on any signs, and I'm sure as his mother she was feeling that responsibly a million times worse.

"The hospital he was transferred to...it's a good place right Miss?" a hopefulness relaxes her features as she nods and you let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding.

"I wouldn't be allowed to visit right?"

"Unfortunately, I had asked knowing you'd eventually come to ask but it was a firm no from doctors."

You nodded understandingly, mostly aware of how visiting rights in hospitals, especially mental hospitals work. Turns out all that studying actually did something for you. You can't help the way your face warms slightly when she recognised you'd eventually come around to ask about the guy. Were you that predictable?

"If you don't mind...could you please keep this a secret for us. Just for now, you know how people would react... I don't want them to look down on him when he returns."

Your eyes involuntarily furrow on how she forces herself to believe in a "when" your hoping for it too, praying. There's a moment of solidarity between you two, being in on the truth of Seo-wan's where abouts.

"Of course."

_

For several months the three of you kept the secret of Seo-wans mental illness. At times Mrs Kim would come visit you with tea and mooncakes which you were eternally grateful for. You'd listen to her talk for hours about him and his childhood, though it hurt to hear her talk about him in this past tense like he'd never recover from his delusions. For some reason you had a ridiculously strong belief he'd soon return, he would.

-

You had ran out of eggs and you were desperately craving a French toast. Some may question the random craving at such a late time but you really needed your fix. Throwing on your coat and grabbing your phone you left your apartment and walked up to the elevator.

Broken? Seriously? What a drag.

Begrudgingly you turn to take the stairs, your floor was on one of the highest stories in the complex so the elevator is always the ideal. A few flights the stairs your gaze flickers up upon hearing someone slowly ascend the stairs. You're already moving to one side of the stairway out of politeness when you recognise the familiar head of hair and round glasses. The person in question lifts their head stiffly as your steps slow to a halt in front of them. Their eyes are widening as they lock eyes with you, eyes you hadn't seen in months.

"Seo-wan?"

Part 2 should come out reasonably soon don't quote me 💔

Tag list: @kimseo-wan @keimitchy

[miniwheat77]

Cherry. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!nsfw, SA, reader is attacked, smut, fingering, p in v sex, virginity loss, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, pining!

For the most part, you were quiet.

By far the most quiet soldier on base. Soap and Gaz liked to joke about it.

You might’ve been silent, but it’s because you’re an observer. You watch and listen. Most of all though, you’re watching him.

Your captain.

You’ve had an obvious crush on him since the day you met him, and when he recruited you for his task force, you wanted to scream. Working alongside him every day. Seeing him every day. It was torture really but you looked forward to it because than, you’d be around him. Before, you seen him a couple times a year, now you see him every day.

Some days are harder than others, you want him so bad but know you can’t have him. That’s tough, but you’re managing.

Nobody has clued in on your little crush yet, thank god. If someone else found out, you’d never hear the end of it.

Captain Price feels bad. He feels bad because he recruited you for hands on missions but you ended up being so much better than everyone else at paperwork that you usually get stuck with the work load. You didn’t exactly like it but you liked the quiet time. Even though you usually got left behind on base to do it. You liked that you spent some time in his office though, seeing as it smelled like him. You were too scared to snoop through his desk, but the smell of him lingers and when you’re in his office, sometimes the both of you are inside. He makes small talk with you and those days you look forward to.

You’re making your way through a stack of paperwork. It’s tedious really, reading over everything, filling out mission reports. It’s all the same repetitive paperwork. But Soap always screws up and Ghost will weasel his way out of any paperwork. Gaz is capable but gets distracted so easily that only half of it will get done. When Laswell isn’t here, there’s no one to do it. So here you are.

Your phone dings in your pocket, technically you’re not supposed to have it on you since you’re actively working but you did anyways. You sigh when you see who it is.

A newer recruit to the base had gotten your phone number from Johnny. Told him some lie about needing to ask you about your watch together. So Johnny gave it to him. Now he’s done nothing but message you nonstop. More specifically, wanting to get closer to you because he liked you. The messages were starting to get a little threatening. You’d been meaning to talk to Captain Price about it but hadn’t gotten the chance yet.

You ignore the few dings that go off, finally digging it out of your pocket.

Hey, what’re you up to?

Soap said you’re in the captains office doing paperwork again, need some company?

Hello?

I see, playing hard to get. I’ll come to you than.

Nerves set in right as you see the last message but before you can react, the door handle twists.

Your lips part, eyes wide. Relief floods through you as your Captain steps inside. You quickly appear to be doing something else, not wanting to incriminate yourself.

A knock at the door right after Captain Price sits down has your hair raising. “Yeah?” Captain Price calls. The door opens and there he is. “Ryan, how can I help you?”

“I just wanted to speak with Y/N for a moment sir.” He nods. His eyes glance to you, seeing that you’ve gone completely rigid at the sight of him. Why are you apprehensive like that?

“Uh.. I’ll be done in a couple hours, can it wait?” You mumble.

“Suppose so.” He nods. He stands there for another few seconds before leaving.

“That was awkward.” Captain Price chuckles. “Tell me about it.” You mumble. “Something going on between you two?” He asks. “No. He wants there to be but no.” You mumble. “I’m not going to be that hard on you. Whatever happens off base happens off base.” He shrugs. You shake your head. “I- no. I’m not interested in him at all.”

“Yeah, you kind’ve got all tense there.” He laughs.

“He got my phone number from Johnny. Sometimes his messages give me the creeps.” You shake your head. “Really? What does he say?”

You read out some of the things he’s said. Seeing his smile. “Think he’s just interested and doesn’t know how to express it.” He mumbles. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before so I don’t know what’s predatory and what’s normal.” You snort. He freezes up. “Wait.. are you still a virgin?” He asks. You can feel crimson rising up your cheeks. Fuck. You’d just incriminated yourself. You shrug your shoulders, avoiding his gaze. He laughs. “Well. Maybe if you get laid you won’t be so uptight, hm?”

You look away from him. In disbelief that he’d just said that to you. You try to laugh it off, but it doesn’t sit right with you.

After a few more minutes, he ends up getting called out by Johnny for something else. Leaving you alone in his office once more. You feel gross, the pedestal you’d put him on. Refusing to believe that he wasn’t like every other guy, and how he’d just proved you so wrong.

Later that same night, when you’re getting text messages from Ryan again, you’re not in your right headspace. He’s out drinking with Johnny and Ghost, they play pool sometimes off base. He stays out, and tells you to come join him.

Maybe your Captain is right, maybe you do need it. Clearly it’s never going to be him. You don’t know what you’re thinking as your feet carry you down the sidewalk. Catching a cab to the bar.

You step into the dive bar and see him sitting on a stool at the bar, clearly chatting up the bartender. You swallow hard, making your way up to him. You sit down next to him. “Hey. Finally joining me?” He laughs. You smile, every cell in your body is telling you to run but you stay. You’re in the military, when your body says to run, you run. But you don’t.

You buy a couple of drinks, he never offers you any.

What a gentleman.

“Hey, cmon.” He grasps your arm. You can hear it in his voice that he’s trying to get lucky. You swallow hard.

He leads you out to the back alley of the bar, pushing your back up against the old brick wall. A gasp leaves your lips and you try to turn your head but he forces you to kiss him. “You’re so sexy. Been waiting for you to come out with me.”

As his fingertips glide past your waistband and into your jeans, you feel bile growing at the back of your throat. “Wait- Ryan stop.” You breathe. He forces his lips over yours, muffling your sounds. “S-stop!” He clamps a hand over your mouth.

He forces a finger between your legs, the intrusion and tearing feeling has you crying out. On instinct you throw your face into his, forehead knocking into his face, sending a knee into his groin. He cries out and topples over into the ground. You try to rush away from him but he snatches you by your arm, pulling you back into the wall, the back of your head hits the brick wall and stuns you.

He forces you to the ground and you try to fight him but you’re still dizzy. His hand meets with your cheek in a harsh slap, knocking your face to the side. He forces your arms above your head with one hand, the other going for your waistband. He’s about to line himself up with you and seal the deal when you slam your face into his once again, this time bloodying his nose completely, and yours in the process. You get your feet up onto his chest and kick him off of you, knocking the air out of him. You stand up and run away in a hurry. He tries to call out to you that he didn’t mean it but you don’t stick around.

You run until your lungs burn. The muscles in your legs crying out for relief. But you keep running.

You don’t know at which point you stop. Calves still burning as you walk back into the base. Luckily the tears have stopped falling and now you were just cold. The pain you feel between your legs is dull and aching. How dare he.

You’re speed walking to your room where you know there’s a lock on the door but you turn the corner and slam right into someone, you scurry back. Scared that it’s him again but Ghost reaches out to steady you, Soap standing right at his side. “Woah! What the hell happened?”

You’re about to hyperventilate when Soap reaches out.

“Y/N!” Ryan calls out to you from the hallway. Had he really caught up that fast? That means he was so close to you…

You scramble to get away but Soap holds you still. “What the fuck is going on?” Ghost growls. “It… it was just a misunderstanding. Y/N, can I please talk to you?” You break free from Soap’s grasp and take off running at a full sprint to your room. You’re terrified. “What the fuck did you do to her?” Soap asks. “I swear I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that. Go to your room, I’m gonna be watching.” He threatens. Ghosts eyes are stone cold.

You try to forget about it for the night.

—

The following day when you’re sitting in your captains office, the dread you feel is unmatched. He notices that there’s something off about you, every time you move, you wince like something is hurting you. You’ve also got makeup on when he’s told you it’s not allowed, but he ignores it. Just this once.

You’ve also got a small bruise on your forehead with a cut in the middle which means something hit you, something you couldn’t hide with makeup. He chooses to ignore it, maybe you’re just sore from sitting all of the time or something. Maybe you’ve just hit your head. A knock at the door draws his attention away from you, and he looks up. “Yeah?” He calls. “Uh. Sorry to bother.” You hear his voice. Captain price narrows his eyes when he sees Ryan has a line across his nose and a bruise around his eye, where he’d clearly been hit. “Y/N, can I talk to you? In private.” He mumbles. He’s bold.

Captain Price can see how rigid you’ve gone, how you clearly are even more uncomfortable than the day before. “No, you need to leave me alone Ryan.” You mumble. This raises a massive red flag and Ryan hoped you wouldn’t bring it to your captains attention. He leaves quickly after. Captain Price sighs. “Alright. What happened?” He mumbles, turning in his chair. “Nothing.” You mumble.

“Y/N.” His voice is deeper. “Don’t you lie to me.”

“Hey.” Johnny's voice startles the both of you. "Captain. A word?" He nods. John stands up from his desk and follows Johnny out.

A while later, they come back.

"Sweetheart." Johnny nods.

You look up from the table toward the door, seeing Soap, Gaz, and your Captain standing there. “Uh.. hey?” You sit up, trying to hide the wince.

“Uh… We talked to Ryan. You know... You looked hysterical last night. I just.. wanted to come check on you.” He swallows hard. You look down. “I’m good, Johnny.”

“Y/N. I’m sorry I gave him your phone number. I can’t help but feel like this is my fault.” He sighs. You laugh. “It’s not your fault Soap. I think he wanted my number bad enough to get it from anyone.” He sits down in front of you. Your captain pulls up a chair next to him. They’re cornering you and it’s making you nervous. “Why don’t you take the day off?” He mumbles. “I could do this or I could go sit in my room alone.” You smile. “I’m alright Johnny. Is.. something wrong?”

“We uh… got the whole story from Ryan.” He mumbles, looking at your Captain. “Oh…”

“You made it sound like it wasn’t that bad. So.. maybe we should hear your side?” He mumbles.

“Uh.. alright? I guess.” You shrug. “I.. agreed to go get a drink with him and he pulled me around to the back of the building, I’m assuming to get me alone. He.. tried to kiss me and put his hand…” you swallow hard. Clearly getting choked up. “Down my pants and I pushed him back but he wouldn’t move. Than he… forced his fingers in… so I headbutted him and got him off and tried to run but he grabbed my arm.”

You roll your sleeve up, the handprint bruise where he’d grabbed you still shows. Even darker now. “He slammed me back into the brick wall and it stunned me a little bit. He got me onto the ground, hit me, and than…” you freeze, eyes boring into the desk. “Tried to uh.. tried to-“

“Okay.. we don’t need anymore alright but Y/N.” Captain Price gets your attention. “This is not something I should be finding out about the next day, this is something you come right to me over. This is serious, he attacked you.” You nod. “Yes sir.” He stands up. Walking out of the room, clearly pissed.

Johnny sighs. “It’s going to be alright. You need anything just ask alright?”

You nod. “Thanks Johnny.” You smile. Once he’s gone, you’re alone again. Thank god. You needed the space. You feel like there’s a massive weight on your shoulders. It doesn’t take long and you’re losing track of time. Zoning out and losing yourself in the endless paperwork.

The sound of yelling and commotion in the hallway drags you away from your thoughts, you stand up to go find out what it is. As a soldier you learn to run toward the danger, not away from it.

You make your way down the hallways quickly, turning the corner and running straight into your Captain. He's got his arms crossed, watching Ghost try to contain Ryan.

Your eyes widen and you step forward, your Captain realizes it's you, putting a hand out to stop you.

“What? Now that you’re with him, you’re big and bad huh? Couldn’t defend yourself alone?” Ryan taunts you. Something you've grown to really hate in the military. Taunting.

You grit your teeth.

His words fade out but he’s still talking, your ears begin to ring and you hear no more of the mess around you. He breaks free out of Ghost's grasp and moves toward you. Before you realize it, you’ve got your Captain’s gun out of his waistband and you’re aiming it at Ryan. His eyes widen as you line up with his body.

“Y/N NO!”

They try to get to you but don’t reach you in time.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Soap grasps your arm and raises it in the air, eventually knocking the gun from your hand. Everything moves in slow motion as Ryan topples to the ground.

———

It’s hours later and Captain Price is out looking for you but he can’t find you. It’s passed midnight and you’re not in your room, he doesn’t even think to look in his office still. There’s no way you’re there still. But he checks anyways.

To his surprise, you’re still sitting right where he’d left you. Only now, there’s no paperwork left and you’re just staring off into space. You’ve still got blood all over you from the incident. It's amazing how far blood travels when the body is penetrated by a .45.

“Y/N?” He asks. He doesn’t get a response. He approaches slow not wanting to startle you. “Y/N?” His hand on your shoulder is what finally drags you out of your thoughts. You jump away from him, eyes going wide. When you realize it’s him, your heart settles. “The hell are you still doing in here?”

“Oh- I don’t know. Lost track of time I suppose.” You mumble. “I’d say so. It’s passed midnight darling.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He laughs. “Got through all of that paperwork.” he nods toward the empty part of your desk that was once piled. “Oh.. yeah. That was a while ago.” You mumble. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” He drags his chair toward you to sit down near you. His close proximity sends warmth pooling between your thighs. It feels like your veins are on fire when he’s this close to you. “Yeah. I’m good. Just.. out of it.” You look down. You’re fumbling with your hands and he knows why.

You feel like what happened the night before is your fault.

He rests his hand on your thigh. “I know that you probably think that this is your fault because you think you initiated whatever happened between you and him, but it’s not. A grown man knows that when someone tells him to stop, he stops. That’s just that. Doesn’t matter who started what or where you thought it was going, when someone says no or stop, they’re supposed to. This isn’t your fault and you don’t have to stress like this over it. You owe him nothing.” You look down at the ground. Knowing that he has a point. “Yeah.. I know. I just regret being stupid enough to go in the first place. But I’m fine. I get shot at and kill people for a living. He doesn’t bother me.” You roll your eyes, looking down at your desk. “It should bother you, and I don’t believe you when you say that. I can tell that it does. But I’ve taken care of it.” He sighs. “What did you do?” You ask. “He’s off my base and away from you, that’s what matters.”

“Did.. did he survive?” You ask. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. But I have to say I’m impressed, all three shots you took even without aiming still hit.” He laughs. You smile.

“Captain?” You ask. “Yeah?”

“Why do you think he was so persistent?” You ask. He sighs. “I don’t know Y/N.” He chews on his lip. “There’s obviously something about you that captivated him bad enough to want to hurt you in that way.” His voice is low. “But you’re a real pretty girl and you’re a genuine person. It doesn’t surprise me, but his persistence was terrifying." He’s exasperated. “I’m okay. I’d rather take a punch than be-“ you freeze before the word can come out of your mouth. He swallows hard.

"What made you even decide to go out with him in the first place? I saw you yesterday talking to him. You clearly didn't like him.”

You sigh. “I.. tried to take your advice.” You mumble.

“Fuck.. can’t you take a joke? I was only pulling your leg.” He sighs. You roll your eyes. Turning away from him. “Y/N. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen to you.” He asks. You pause for a minute, unsure of what to say. “Hey. Look at me.” He grasps your chair, forcing you turn toward him. You swallow hard, stiffening at his close proximity. Despite the situation, your body still fucking wants him. Curse this. He grasps your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

You tug your face away from him.

“Y/N.” He mumbles. He rests his hand on your thigh. “Let me take a look at you. You refused to get looked at by a medic.”

"He just hit me. Nothing I can't handle.” You mumble. “That’s not what I meant.” he glides his hand up your thigh, seeing your eyes widen. “What? I don’t know about that.”

He laughs. “It’s nothing weird alright? Just to make sure you’re alright. I can see you wincing every time you sit down. I just want to make sure than he didn’t.. hurt you too bad. Because if it’s bad enough you’ll need to see a medic.” You look down. Nodding your head. “Okay..” you mumble. He helps you up, nodding to the couch in his office. “Sit down.” He makes his way to the door, locking it. You sit nervously on the couch. Seeing him laugh at your nervousness. “Nothing weird alright? You can trust me.”

He helps you remove one of your pant legs, seeing you still making an effort to cover yourself. “Just lay back, let me see.” He mumbles. He pushes your knees apart, hearing you gulp. You turn your head to the side, you jump when his fingertips touch you. “It’s okay, I’m just getting a good look.” He mumbles. You clench your eyes shut. “I can see where he hurt you, it’s just red but he didn’t draw any blood.” He mumbles. “Does this hurt?” He asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the wound. It’s right at the entrance. “It’s.. a little sore. Yeah.” You breathe.

He chews at his lip.

You shouldn’t have let him do this, because if he was ever suspicious of you having a crush on him which he was you’d just showed him the truth. He clears his throat. “I’m going to try something. You trust me?” You nod your head. “Use your words darling.”

“Y-yeah, yes. I trust you.” you breathe. He can hear your heart thumping in your chest. “Deep breath okay?” You take in a breath, but it gets caught in your throat by his finger penetrating you.

You gasp out, flinching away from him slightly. “W-what are you doing?” You shudder as he curls his finger up. You reach down, grasping hold of his wrist to still him, but he moves yours away with his free hand.

“Tell me I’m not mistaken sweetheart. But.. he hurt you just right at the entrance. And.. you hurting?”

He glides his finger back almost completely out, adding another and hearing you gasp out as he pushes them back inside of you. “No- no it doesn’t hurt.” You gasp, trying to move away from him. “That’s two fingers darling. You’re fucking soaked.” He laughs. He holds you down against the couch, so that you don’t wiggle away from him. “You must really not like him for him to have hurt you so easily. And you must really like me.” He laughs. He draws them back, plunging them back inside of you, starting to pump them into you until you’re crying out and squirming. The burning sensation from where Ryan had hurt you is gone now, replaced by pure bliss. You’re crying out, unable to control your sounds. You gasp out, clutching at the couch as he holds you still. Fucking you with his fingers.

When you cum, you let out a mewl. It’s how he knows you cum. His fingers piercing into you, like being touched by a god himself. When he draws his fingers back, you’re panting. Sliding away from him and holding your knees to your chest. Making an attempt at covering yourself up. Staring at him in complete disbelief. How he’d touched you and was so nonchalant about it.

He laughs. He’s resting on the couch, one knee on it, one foot still on the ground. His hand hangs beside him, strings of your arousal drawn between his fingers. He’s still chuckling. “What? Cat got your tongue?” He stands up completely, moving closer to you. You look up at him like you’re mesmerized by him.

“I know about your little crush on me, have for some time.” He breathes. “What I said yesterday, I was just being a dick. And I’m sorry you got hurt because of it.” You nod your head, eyes still glossy as you look up at him. He steps back.

He’d just touched you.

Not only had he touched you, but he made you cum.

The first person to ever do that.

“Captain Price?” You look up at him again. “Yeah darling? Maybe we should get going, it’s about time for bed, it’s la-“

"You're right. I do have a crush on you. I have since I met you."

“I know.”

“How?”

“There are ways you act around me and no one else.”

You smile. “I thought I was better at hiding it.”

“I would’ve never picked up on it if you hadn’t been around me every day.” He laughs.

You smile. Looking up at him.

He smiles. “How do you feel? Still hurting?”

“Not really. It’s weird but that kind’ve helped with the pain.”

“Just opened you up a bit more probably.” You nod, eyes avoiding his once again.

After a moment of silence, you break it.

“Will you have sex with me?”

Those words take him completely by surprise. He freezes up at the request.

“Y/N… I really think you should do some healing first befo-“

“I’m fine.” You smile. “I swear. I’m fine. It just.. it scares me that he came so close to taking my virginity like that. I want you to take it.”

He thinks for a second. “Y/N…” he warns. “You don’t have to, not if you don’t want to of course.” He snorts. “It’s not that I don’t want to, of course I do. It’s just that… I don’t think now is a good time.” You look up at him, smiling. “Neither was a minute ago, but you still fingered me.” You smirk. He rolls his eyes. “Cmon.” He grasps your wrist gently and tugs you out of the office, leading you to his room. “If you really want me to do this, I’m going to do it right.” He mumbles. You nod your head. “Slow. And if you feel any kind of discomfort and don’t want to go any further, I’ll stop.” You nod. “Yes Captain.”

He cups your cheeks and kisses you.

You melt right into him, and you know that this is exactly how it’s supposed to go.

Before you know it, he’s on top of you. He’s got you in his bed. It’s warm, he’s got soft sheets and it smells like cologne. You’re dazed, in a trance by his touch. You feel high off of him. All of this time you’ve waited and it’s finally happening.

He's gentle with you. Something you didn't entirely expect out of a man like Captain Price. He seemed so rough around the edges. He was usually a stern man.

Feeling that his rough hands could be so gentle, running over the most sensitive parts of you.

You'd seen him out on the field. You saw him earlier with Ryan. You knew how violent he could be. All the man really seemed to care about anymore was his task force. You happened to be on it.

"Deep breath for me okay? It's going to hurt."

You nodded your head. You were breathless as he laid over you. His bare stomach pressed to yours as he brushed his cock over your folds. Letting you feel him. He wants to keep you grounded. He doesn't want you to feel forced.

Your eyes are glossy as you look up at him. It eats him alive really, how much you trust him.

You were too trusting with him. He was nothing but a man, a man who you barely knew. Yet here you were. Exposing your most precious parts to him. For no good reason at all, other than the fact that you'd had a crush on him for a while. You were lucky that he was such a good and caring man. Because he would take care of you. He'd do his best to protect you. He always had anyways.

He pushes into you. Inch by agonizing inch, and the saddest part was it hurt nothing like when Ryan had hurt you. But that's how this was supposed to be.

That's why he's walking around with 3 holes in him.

"Look at me."

He grounds you again. He can tell your mind is wandering, and not to a good place. "I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me a story." He forces you to focus on him. "Tell me about the day we first met."

While he's got you distracted, he's sliding in further.

"I- I was on a mission in Iran. Your force stopped at our base to rest for a couple of days." You freeze, closing your eyes.

He draws his hips back and thrusts back in. He'd successfully buried himself to the hilt and was going slow to keep you focused. "Laswell was walking to my superiors office and saw me inside. I was in the back doing paperwork, but earlier in the day s-she-" A moan leaves your lips as he thrusts in. "Keep going. Stay focused."

"She had seen me training a couple of new soldiers to our base. She thought t-that I would be a good fit for the task force, so she went to find you. She brought you back and when you walked in I-"

You gasp out. "I saw you- and than I met you. Found out who you were and you offered me a spot on the task force and I took it."

He chuckles. "Tell me darling. Did you take it because you wanted to be here or did you take it because of your crush on me?"

You smile wide, a grin on your lips that he hadn't seen from you before. Crimson rose on your cheeks.

"Naughty girl." He teases.

"You did so good. You feel me?"

Only now do you realize that he'd been freely thrusting himself inside of you, pain free.

"Holy sh-" Your eyes widen slightly, seeing your body take him. "You're doing so good. Not even bleeding darling." He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. "I knew you were a good fit. You didn't mind doing paperwork. I didn't expect you to follow orders as well as you have. That's your best quality." He smirks.

He lowers himself into you. His body weight completely on yours. Your bare chest presses to his and for a moment it feels like he's trying to suffocate you but he's trying to keep you focused. He's starting to overwhelm you. He uses his right hand to move your hair out of your face, kissing you again.

You close your eyes tightly, trying to keep quiet.

You've got a knot forming in your stomach and you know what it is.

You tilt your head, whining out. "Do you trust me?" He asks. You nod your head.

He presses his hand against your mouth. He's testing you.

He knows you're getting close, he can't deny the fact that he is getting close too. You're wrapped perfectly around him, milking him for all he's worth. You're so tight on him.

You stay relaxed and he's impressed. He knows that you trust him which is what he wanted. He wanted you to stay focused enough on him that the event of the night before would be washed away to the back of your mind while he took your virginity.

You cry into his hand when you reach your peak. Your chest heaves as you take in air like it's limited. He grits his teeth and buries his face into the crook of your neck as he finishes inside of you. The way he sounds is intense.

When he pulls his hand away, you take in a deep breath.

"You alright?" He draws away. You nod your head, still panting. "Your lips are flushed. It's pretty. Like cherries." He smiles. You turn away from him. Already intimidated by him enough.

"It'll get better. The more we do it." He breathes.

"So there will be a next time?" You smile. Cheeks pink.

"If you think you aren't mine after this, you're mistaken."

"Was hoping you'd say that, sir."

———

You make your way down the hallway, head held high. Like you hadn’t taken a beating or shot one of your own the day before. You walk into the mess hall and go right for the coffee. Everyone goes quiet. “Uh.. hey!” Gaz smiles. You turn and smile at him. “Hi.”

“You’re up early.” He mumbles. “Nah, got watch in like… ten minutes.” You look down at your watch.

“What? Y/N, I’ve got your watch covered. No worries.”

You laugh. “I got punched in the face, not shot. I’ll be fine Gaz.” You walk out of the room, everyone exchanges a glance. They don't know the real reason you're in such a good mood.

“She’s one tough girl I’ll tell you.” Ghost mumbles. “Yeah she is, sometimes too tough for her own good.” Soap sighs.

“Wonder what Cap told her about Ryan.” Gaz mumbles.

“Probably some story about him being alive and well.” Soap mumbles.

“Yeah, he might’ve been. Had Ghost not finished the job.” Gaz laughs.

Simon rolls his eyes. “I like Y/N. She’s a good girl. And I don’t like rapists. So.. now we’ve got one less to worry about in the world.” He continues eating his breakfast like nothing has happened.

You stay in the unknown. They think that's the perfect place for you. At least for now.

[alphascnsual]

Jasper had only been in the frat for a couple hours and only been with the king so far, but it already felt silly to compare him to the others who had been in his position before. In the grand scheme of things, they were glorified flesh lights- and while Jasper was fated to be the same, it was clear how much he relished the task and how much joy and effort he put into fulfilling his duties. The ease of the other's submission didn't go unnoticed either- Blake didn't have to ask twice, or even ask at all, for the other to comply and do as he wished. That was a massive turn-on and definitely earned major brownie points that would soon cash into real-world perks that the bunny wasn't even aware would be headed his way. Speaking of rewards, Blake now focused on giving the other his very first. He couldn't help the smirk that traced across his lips as the other voiced his wish. "My specialty," he murmured, stealing another kiss from the blond when he finished speaking, "Your wish ..."

The Italian-American kept an arm wrapped around the acrobat's waist and rocked his weight onto his feet, smoothly standing up, stilling buried inside the other. He turned them around and laid Jasper down on the bed where he himself had been sitting a moment ago, and when he straightened up, he took each of Jasper's legs, his palms sliding to find the bunny's ankles and he gently began to push forward, bending the lithe boy's body in half and allowing him to push even deeper inside the other's already well-used cunt than he'd been before. He held Jasper's legs wide and still and licking his lips, he cheekily winked down at him before starting to pulse his hips once more, this time ramping his rhythm up quickly and sharply; soon making his intention clear. In no time, the alpha jock was fucking Jasper as hard and as deep as was physically possible and showed no signs of mercy or slowing; in fact, all physical signs and his promise earlier pointed to the opposite: he would be keeping his promise and fucking the greatest orgasm the other had ever had out of him before using him as a cumdump and leaving yet another load huge enough to fill and leak out of the blond for the rest of the night and next day.

A knock at the door wasn't enough to disturb Blake's strokes and he called for whomever it was to enter. He looked up to see one of the other senior members of the frat, "Sup?" the sweat covered athlete asked, continuing to pound Jasper as though he were trying to split him in half, "Can I borrow your charger?" the brother asked, unable to stop himself from looking down at the action taking place, "Yeah, bro, 'course- you know where it is," Blake responded casually. The other moved past them to grab the cable from the bedside table before moving back towards the door before pausing for a moment. "The Bunny'll be open to brothers from tomorrow afternoon- once you guys are done helping move his stuff in, he's all yours," Blake answered before the other could ask and the brother turned to sheepishly smile and nod shyly, confirming that that had been what he was working up the courage to ask, "No more disturbances tonight," he said, gesturing his his head for the other to take his leave and the brother offered a much more resolute nod to the command before closing the door behind him, "Now ... where was I ... oh, right- claiming you."

Just like the frat president relished in the delight of not having to guide some amateur wannabe slut through the duties of being a bunny, Jasper was finding his own bliss in the pleasure of letting go, submiting without the worry of denying himself one bit of ecstatic arousal in the process. He absolutely loved giving himself over into the confident hands of a dominant top, but to his chagrin, he'd come across plenty of wannabe 'alphas' with more misguided cockiness than actual skills, and he was too much of a diva to just lay there and take mediocre dick without pushing back. But Blake was clearly in no need of any lessons from the blonde power bottom, who instead moaned in ecstatic bliss, groaning with a happy smile as he bounced on the stallion's monster cock, gladly letting the muscular top assist his bubbly ass slam harder on the thick length and making Jasper see stars.

He certainly hadn't expected this to work out as perfectly as it had thus far. When Blake and his fellow brothers talked him up at the gym and recruited him based on his salacious reputation, Jasper had been... excited at the idea of indulging this fantasy, of showing off his body and talents for the fraternity to see what a real bunny had to be like. But a part of him, maybe one born from cockiness or a parade of lovers in his past that had been satisfactory but never enough to keep his interest for longer, had been not fully convinced this deal would be truly fulfilling his needs. However, feeling Blake's hands and lips on his body in this moment, the thick Italian cock pulsing inside him, feeling every inch as his hole bounced up and down on the mighty pole, confirmed what Jasper had begun realizing earlier as he got fucked surrounded by all those gawking frat brothers. This place was just what he craved and needed. Being Blake's to own and share with his brothers was possibly finally enough to satisfy his thirst.

The blonde's eyes filled with even more of a lust and hunger as his nipples were played with, and his lips found Blake's with the hunger of a starving man as the other told him to lean in for a kiss. He moaned without shame as their lips connected, wanting the frat president to feel just how much he was into this right now - riding Blake's dick was not just a duty, he wasn't simply trying to do the best job he could as the frat bunny he now was. Jasper's own pleasure might not have been top priority on paper, but he was getting just as much out of this right now as the other. "Mhhh, thank you", he purred proudly, the praise from Blake feeling oddly satisfying even with all the confidence Jasper had in his own skills. He let out a deep moan, his own cock pulsing in the stallion's grip, his hole twitching and tightening around the enormous girth stretching it open. He had no doubt the other would make good on his word, making him cum so hard he'd pass out, and he wanted to return the favor. "Deep", was the first thing Jasper responded when asked how he wanted it, sliding almost all the way off of the other's cock before slamming down onto it again hard, gasping at his own motion. "Hard if you have the stamina for it", he teased with a wink, "because I do always love it intense, you know. But deep more than anything. I wanna sleep with that thick Italian load inside my guts and see if it's trickled out of my well-used pussy in the morning", he mused. Jasper was as much of a cumslut as he was a slut for big dicks, if not even more, and he knew he could get Blake to provide him with both.