#the point being that I’m still able to see good despite this fact

[dallasthetransgenderlegend]

Isn’t it so strange that we are drawn to things that hurt us?

Think about it. The media we consume, the people we cling to: An episode of a show could make us cry but we’ll label it as “good” for a multitude of reasons. A parent may say something horrible to us yet we tell them we love them every night. Why is that? How can we love things that cause us pain?

I believe that, deep down, we are optimistic. A race, or species of people who see good in something, whether that be subconscious or not. No matter how much a “pessimist” may see the world in defeat, he still yearns for something.

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

It continues to trip me up how much human brains are just weird organic computers

[lycandrophile]

i clicked on the original tweet just to see if anyone else felt as weird about it as i did because at this point i’m just tired of seeing people going on and on about trans men dating cishet men who try to convince them not to transition as if it’s a funny joke about a trans man doing something silly and not a manipulative and generally very unhealthy relationship dynamic that can hurt the trans man involved really deeply (as forcing someone back into the closet tends to do.)

did i find anyone else feeling that way? no. there were a few people pointing out that it was weird in general, and plenty saying it’s a weird thing to say about a cis woman, but nothing expressing any sort of concern about the tired stereotype it’s perpetuating.

but you know what i did find? replies like the one in the second screenshot, using the tweet as their chance to tell the world how much they hate trans men and how repulsive they find the idea of ever being compared to us. and replies like the third one, shaming trans men in relationships like that as if the fact that they’ve found themselves in an unhealthy relationship makes them deserving of public shaming, as if their relationship is hurting anyone other than them.

stereotypes like this just feel like yet another way of indirectly calling us stupid little girls who don’t know what’s good for us, and the fact that a picture of a woman is being used (even jokingly!) as an example of what trans men “like that” look like should make the implications of rhetoric like this all the more obvious.

it’s relationships like these that keep us miserable in the closet for so long and drive up our sexual assault rates even more. they’re not funny and if anyone is going to be making jokes about them, it certainly shouldn’t be people who have never been in that situation. if you actually cared about us you’d be looking for ways to support the trans men you know who are in relationships like that instead of hopping on twitter to joke about how stupid they must be.

i don’t care if it’s a joke. if it victim blames trans men for the transphobia we face in our personal relationships, adds to the common idea that we can’t be trusted to make decisions about our own lives, and invites even more blatant transphobia against us by people who unabashedly admit they see all trans men as “disgusting and phony”, it’s not fucking funny.

(i also want to note that the people making these jokes never like to mention that this also happens to trans men in relationships with queer women. they also hate those trans men, of course, and are happy to express that when they get into fights about trans men who date lesbians, but they’ll never talk about it in the context of this particular stereotype. it’s always a man being manipulative in a relationship and pressuring trans men to not transition, as if a woman would never be capable of such a thing.

they also like to conveniently ignore the existence of older trans men who transitioned after already being in a committed relationship with a cishet man and were able to make that relationship work despite their transition, because acknowledging that would require recognizing that trans men can be in seemingly contradictory relationships and genuinely be happy with their partner. who needs nuance when you can simply choose to judge all trans men for our relationships regardless of what they’re actually like?)

do you think they also would call me “a trans man being purposefully misgendered” with this kind of vitriol because i’m still living with parents who don’t recognize my gender instead of moving out before i’m ready to be financially independent? at this point, i’m starting to feel like they might, with the way every decision a trans man ever makes is the subject of a public debate and people have decided that trans men are secretly using being misgendered as a weapon to somehow hurt other trans people.

as a general rule, i’d say the only people who should be making “X looks like a trans man” jokes about literally anyone/anything are trans men, and posts like this show exactly why those jokes being made by anyone else (even by other trans people) just isn’t a good idea.

[minkieater]

sweat — jyh ˚ · .

p. jeong yunho x fem!reader w. smut mdni, sweat kink kinda went crazy here, can't help but write yunho rough it just comes out of me wc. 3.2k

a bare face, disheveled hair and scarlet tipped ears greeted you in the bedroom, two hours after you’d last seen him. his puffy eyes were low from exertion, his strenuous workout was ultimately for him but you couldn’t pretend it didn’t benefit you, too. your eyes caught the sweat that sparkled across his skin, the warm light from the side table lamp making it appear like a second layer of a golden sheen — nothing short of a gift that the hotel’s gym provided you. his chocolate brown shirt hung loose and baggy, definitely damp by this point, crumpled at the bottom hem from how many times he’d pat his face dry with it during his session. his shorts sat just at mid thigh, shorts you’d bought for him just for this purpose, coming back to you in your hotel room after a late night workout.

“check out my pump,” he flexed his biceps with a proud smile, looking at his arms that he held up on either side of his face. such an adorable action, the opposite of how he looked right now, so massive and so manly.

you didn’t answer, you couldn’t answer, too entranced by how he spawned in your bedroom looking effortlessly godlike. it was sinister, it should be illegal, an article written somewhere in the federal register that jeong yunho shouldn’t be able to look this fucking good. 

the sweat that laid across his skin made him look so edible, so delicious, you knew that taste all too well — the warm saltiness tangled with a hint of him, it was your favorite flavor, you could eat it all day and all night. the ruby red flush to his ears, his cheeks and his nose you wanted to bottle up, put in a tube so you could wear it like lipgloss. maybe chapstick instead so you could put it on him, get his lips back to their usual luster, nourish them so you could kiss him until they were chapped once again.

his hair being so abnormally fucked up only made you think of one thing, how you wanted to sink your fingers into his hair, see the muddy olive brown colored locks between your fingers, tugging at his roots so he’d tell you to pull them harder. you were working yourself up in your head, staring at him through lidded eyes from the comfort of the white bed sheets, it only took seconds of ogling for yunho to read your thoughts as if you said them out loud. 

he scratched his head with one eye shut, a knowing smile playing on his lips, “i should do that workout more often if you’re gonna react like this, i feel like you’re gonna pounce on me.” 

a sound of amusement leaves your lips as you lift one hand, curling your index finger towards yourself to say get your ass over here. 

“i’m all sweaty, we have to sleep there,” he cringed, “i’m gonna shower, care to join?” 

you hopped up at a speed comparable to light despite the fact that your hair was still wet from the shower you just took, but you’d take another, you’d do anything he asked. yunho chuckled as he made his way to the bathroom, flicking on the lights, the loud hum of the fan filling the space. 

“come here,” you murmured when you entered the bathroom hot on his tail, the order sounding like a plea as you tugged at his shirt, pulling him down to your height. 

he was still smiling as your lips met, he brought his hands up to your cheeks, cupping them as his palms completely enveloped your face, fingers going deep into your hair. you were obsessed with him, the size of him, how every part of him seemed to be double of what you were. it made you dizzy, unlocked a part of you that you didn’t realize was laying dormant until you met him, ushering him to do anything to prove how big he actually is, to show you how small he could make you feel. 

you switched to kiss his jaw, tongue lolling out to lick at his skin, tasting the sweet concoction of sweat and yunho that tased like the fountain of youth. it kept you awake, kept you alive, added fuel to the fire of need that started to spread through your gut like a lit match in a dry forest. you moved his hands down your waist to your ass as you licked up the column of his throat and he groaned, lifting you up with those massive twin palms and placing you flat on the counter. 

your lips met again and he smirked into the kiss before detaching for a moment, “couldn’t even wait for me to turn the shower on?”

“can you blame me?” you asked with a sweet smile as you spread your legs atop the counter, already wearing nothing underneath the white hotel robe, as if you’d planned jumping him as soon as he got back. 

the air hit your core and you shivered, yunho taking his place right between your knees as if he felt it, the wetness that caught the draft. his hips were still taller than yours as he stood in front of you and you could moan just at the sight, the mere thought of your giant of a boyfriend. 

“my eager girl,” he hummed as he attached your lips again, fingers running up your calves, over your thighs that laid flush against the counter. he let them slip under the robe, fingers gripping your hips, squeezing as he pressed his abdomen against you from the distance he’d closed. 

“more,” you moaned into his lips at his touch, back arching into him. you could smell the sweat coming off of him, through his shirt, on his skin, in his hair. if you weren’t so horny you’d feel a little concerned about how much it affected you, mouth watering as the scent hit your nostrils. “please,” you begged, your hands coming up his forearms to squeeze at his biceps, back arching impossibly farther to collide your chest with his abdomen. 

“only because you said please,” his voice was ragged as he rested his forehead against yours, slipping a hand from under the robe and bringing it in front of you, running the pads of his fingers over the tops of your thighs, quickly coming closer to your core. you gasped in anticipation, hips bucking up to give him access. he didn’t let his fingers go farther, though, instead they trailed up over your stomach to the tie of your robe, playing with the knot you tied when you hoped out of the shower. 

you whined, an impatient, annoying noise, one that yunho loved so fucking much. his smirk returned at the sound, taking his time as he untied the knot, tugging lightly at the fabric fastened across your waist, using little to no force to drag it out solely to frustrate you further. 

“yunho, please,” you begged, tilting your chin up to look into his eyes where you found a pair of puffy, chocolate brown glazed over eyes staring right back down at you. 

he saw the need in your eyes, the way your eyebrows furrowed, how you took your bottom lip just between your teeth and his resolve was gone. he used both of his hands to tug it free with no effort, slipping the robe off of your shoulders, leaving you bare for him atop the bathroom counter. 

he groaned again from low in his gut, a choked sound, “so fucking sexy.” 

your head tilted back with a muddled moan as his hands swallowed your boobs, squeezing at the fat, rolling his thumbs over your nipples, biting his own lip when they hardened under his touch. his hands slipped down to your waist and he kissed you again, running his hands over your skin, the pads of his fingers leaving dainty touches across your hips and thighs. 

you reached between your bodies, you opted to grab for him instead, feeling his already hardened length in your palm. yunho physically shivered, hips bucking into your hand with a small noise, one that not just anyone would catch if they didn’t know yunho like the back of their hand. you did, you knew it was a sound of lust, a noise that meant please keep going. 

you palmed him through his shorts, the shorts that you bought because they were shorter than the rest of his collection, ones that showed off his thigh muscle so perfectly. you leaned up and attached your tongue to his neck again, a different spot that you hadn’t tasted yet, hadn’t licked the sweat clean off of it. you hummed in delight, working your hand faster over his shorts as his head hung loose, small groans and puffs of air leaving his lips.

“taste so good,” you mumbled between licks to his neck, sucking at small spots, easily leaving bruises across his skin. how his makeup artist would have to cover that up, you didn’t care. your hands went to the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head, marveling at the damp cloth in your hands, hoping he didn’t notice how you took your time or how you had to physically stop yourself from bringing it up to your nose. 

of course he noticed, the revelation gave yunho back the upper hand, his smirk returned to his face as he said, “yeah? you like it when i’m all sweaty baby?”

after years of being together he knows this, you’ve licked the sweat off of all of him numerous times, but it still affected yunho the same every single time you did, and he never hesitated to tease you for it. you mumbled a mhm as you raked your hands over his abdomen, his chest, the skin that was dry by now but still slightly sticky. 

his hands gripped your hips again, right at the crease of where your thigh met your hip and you jumped, bucking your hips towards him once more. your ass was right on the ledge of the sink and you would’ve fallen right back into it if his grip wasn’t so tight. he kept one hand on your hip as the other dragged closer to your core, ghosting over your center, thumb dangerously close to where you needed stimulation the most. 

you gasped, throwing a hand behind you on the sink, using it as leverage to open yourself up to him, let him get full access to where you needed him. he took a step back and looked you up and down, his eyes darker now, so low and glazed over with lust as he stared directly at your center. 

“such a pretty fucking pussy, this sight’ll never get old,” he shook his head and he braced his hands on the counter, right between your legs as he knelt down onto his knees. he moved his hands to grab at your thighs, holding them open as he wasted no time, licking a fat stripe up your center.

you threw the other arm behind you to keep you up and steady as you moaned, a long, languid noise at the stimulation. he made quick work of you, swirling his tongue between your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit. 

“yes,” you moaned and threw your head back, arching your body up into him, bringing your feet up onto the counter to spread yourself impossibly wider for him. he took advantage, eating you like a man starved, letting his saliva trickle down your center and not bothering to lick it all back up. he created a rhythm quick, flicking his tongue over your clit, making you cry out for him, chanting his name like a mantra.

“close,” you cried, taking a hand to fist into his hair, the dampness of his locks only pushing you closer to the edge. the knot in your stomach only tightened further, bucking your hips into his face, and he didn’t pause for a moment. he followed your hips, keeping his lips wrapped tight around your clit, one devastatingly harsh suck made you lose control, had the knot snapping immediately. 

he rode you through it, keeping his rhythm until you forced his face off of you with a tight pull to his roots. he let go of you with a pop, eyes dazed, his head most definitely somewhere else. 

“should i turn the shower on?” he asked with a lazy smile then licked his lips, sitting back on his calves. you giggled, your body shivering as the chill of the room hit you again, your center wet and sticky and cold. 

you hopped down from the counter as he stood up, turning to the glass doors to turn the shower on. as he turned back to you you grabbed him by the neck, pulling him down to kiss him again. you wanted to taste him, all of him before the shower, before his sweat got washed off of him. 

“are you hungry or something?” he joked between kisses, a smile on his face, and you laughed in response. 

“just wanna taste you,” you answered as you dropped to your knees just as he did, a lot less gracefully. he paid no mind as his lips parted, eyes slightly furrowing as he realized what you were doing. 

you tugged his shorts down quick, the length of him springing up against his stomach, standing red and angry and leaking. you salivated, eyes widening at the sight, at the smell of sweaty, post workout yunho. it was delicious, desperation ran through you as if you’d never seen him before, never smelled his sweat before. 

you wrapped your lips around his head, sucking down every drop of precum he gave you, moaning at the taste. so salty, so fucking yunho, your center throbbed with desire even if you just came on his tongue. you spat it all back around him along with your own spit before you took him down your throat as much as you could, hands wrapping around his base, pumping whatever you couldn’t fit – you’d never be able to fit it all. 

he groaned, his hands flying to your head, hands tangling in the roots of your hair, tugging at it just to get a reaction from you. a gargled noise erupted from your throat, vibrating around him, making him stumble for a second as his abdomen clenched, six pack on full display. your eyebrows furrowed at the sight and his hand went to grab for the wall to keep him steady as you bobbed your head, tongue swirling on the underside of his length, hand squeezing his base. 

“you’re so fucking good at that,” he moaned, a gasp leaving his lips right after as your hand went to cup his balls, massaging them in your palm. “i’m gonna cum if you do that, baby, fuck.”

you smiled around his length, breathing through your nose, the smell of him combined with the steam filling the room was making you dizzy. your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, keeping your rhythm, gagging around him as you tried to take him deeper. 

his moans increased in pitch and you knew he was close, teetering at the edge of his release and you stopped, ripping your mouth off of him and putting your hands back at your sides. he whined, a sweet, high pitched noise as you sat back on your calves, a cocky smile sitting on your face as you wiped your lip with your thumb. 

“oh, you’re gonna regret that,” a low chuckle left his lips as he grabbed your wrist, pulling your entire body off the floor with one hand. you smiled, hoping this would happen, knowing all too well what happens when you edge him – what headspace it puts him into. 

“spent the whole fucking night waiting for me just to act like a brat?” he said as you stood up, his voice laced with venom, harsh and stern and so fucking sexy. “you were the one who wanted this, and you’re gonna tease me?” 

he turned you so you faced the massive mirror behind the sink, your hands shooting out to grab the counter, bracing yourself for what comes next. he kicked your ankles apart, spreading your legs, and pushed your chest down on the surface with his right hand wrapped around the back of your neck. 

you moaned, the noise slipping right through your lips, and he chuckled again, the same menacing kick to it. “that’s crazy, i sit you on the counter and make you cum in record time because you’re acting like a bitch in heat, and what do i get?”

“this is all planned then, huh? you acting like a desperate slut so you can get fucked like one?” he lined himself up with your center, quickly pushing in, making your head drop into the sink, a low cry leaving your lips. 

“pick that fucking head up and watch,” he reached for your hair, tugging at your roots, making you moan as he lifted your head to watch him through the mirror. his face is covered in sweat again, the steam from the room combined with the sheer energy it took to make you cum, get edged and bend you over the counter after a full workout. it only pushed you further, your center completely slick, he fucked into you harshly with no resistance, forming a brutal rhythm quick. 

your cries came out one after another, you looked fucked, face sweaty and your half dried hair a knotted wreck. he looked victorious behind you, an evil smile planted on his face as he drilled himself into you, your knees threatening to buckle. 

“too much,” you cried as your legs sagged, forcing yourself to stay upright, using the counter to put your weight on so he could fuck you with ease. 

he laughed instead of slowing down, “you fuckin’ asked for it, baby.”

you didn’t dare look away or let your eyes close as you watched his hand land a harsh slap against your ass, a wicked smile on his face as he watched it ripple under his skin, he loved this just as much as you did – maybe even more. 

you cried out, your head dropping for a moment at the impact before you picked it right back up, keeping your eyes focused on him as his eyebrows furrowed, clearly inching closer to his release. you weren’t far off, the knot in your stomach forming, the angle of him made him hit that spot inside you with each thrust. 

“fuck, i’m close,” he muttered as if on cue, his thrusts staggering, losing their rhythm as he picked up speed. 

“don’t stop,” you huffed out, you couldn’t afford to lose a hand on the counter, your clit begging to be touched. 

yunho knew, of course he knew – he knew you like the back of his hand yet he ignored it, solely focused on his release. a few more thrusts and he was emptying himself inside you, you were so close, right on the edge, your legs wobbling underneath you.

“yunho don’t you dare fucking stop,” you huffed out, your voice hoarse and harsh and he laughed again as his thrusts slowed. you brought a hand down to your core and he was quick to snatch your wrist, leaving you empty and frustrated, a loud whine leaving your mouth. 

“sucks, to be edged, huh?” he asked, holding your wrists behind your back, then planted a kiss to your cheek. 

“we should probably get in the shower now.”

[nathaslosthershit]

Interviews and Playdates (OP81)

(Part of the Teen Dad!Oscar Piastri Au) Summary: The twins have made their paddock debut! The media is asking many of the drivers about it and the kids make a friend… or two.

The twins had been unable to sit still since they woke up this morning, too excited to get to visit the paddock for the first time and finally get to see their dad race. Oscar had hoped they would finally believe that he did in fact race the cars, something the twins were still not convinced of. 

Being that it was Oscar’s home race, he had decided to fly his family out to see his home. It was an exciting moment for the whole family. 

The minute they got to the paddock, all eyes were on them. Oscar and his fiancée had warned the kids of the media and fans, that there would be screaming and a lot of people. Luckily, the noise and amount of people just made the twins shy, huddling by their parents’ legs, which the adults definitely preferred, losing the two on the paddock at their first race wouldn’t have been the best of first impressions. 

As usual, the twins had their priorities in order. Before getting to the McLaren garage, they had demanded to their father that they be able to see their honorary uncle, Logan Sargeant, who wouldn’t be racing that day.

When the twins got to the Williams garage, their favorite American was waiting to greet them, with two LS2 Williams childrens hats, as well as a bag of blue colored candy for them to share. Despite how Logan had been feeling before they had come to visit, seeing them made him feel infinitely much better. 

“Logan please, they are off naps and if we give them sugar they are going to crash. I’m not even sure they are going to stay awake long enough to make it until race time.” Oscar pleaded as he watched his longtime friend ignore him and give his kids the treats anyway.

“Oscar its fine, let him spoil them a little.” Honey, Oscar’s fiancée, said.

“Do you guys like the new hats? See the LS? That's my logo. I thought when you guys are surrounded by all the orange- sorry papaya, you’d like to be able to easily see these two with their blue hats.” Logan said, first talking to the twins then their parents. Even if half of him just wanted to have them wearing Williams and Logan merch to piss Lando off, he also thought having them sticking out would be a good idea. It was sweet how much he cared.

After the Williams visit, on the way to the McLaren garage, the Piastri family was met with the two Haas drivers with two girls hiding behind them.

“Oscar, we have two girls here who wanted to say hi to the new grid kids.” Kevin Magnessun said as he pushed his daughter in front of him.

Oscar could see the Haas media admin recording this encounter, ready to capture the cute moment on tape.

But as kids do, there wasn’t much talking between the kids as their dads talked at first, finally after a bit of convincing and nudging, once the ice was broken, they had gotten along quite well. To the point that they all had to take their kids away, kicking and screaming once they had to leave. Luckily though, they had calmed down by the time they got to the McLaren garage. 

Tired from the sugar and fighting their parents when separating from the Haas girls, the twins weren’t too enthusiastic when greeted by McLaren members, which their parents apologized tenfold for. They did luckily perk up when they saw their second favorite  honorary uncle coming towards them. 

“What the hell are these two wearing, Oscar?” Lando asked, pointing to the LS hats the kids proudly adorned. 

“We stopped by the Williams garage just cause it was on the way and got two hats from Logan, I'm sure if you had beat him to it they would be wearing your merch but I think they are too attached to them now.” It was a lie, but Oscar didn’t feel the need to tell Lando his kids pleaded to go see Logan before him. He also didn’t mention that his son said he liked the hat so much because McLaren’s orange “hurt his eyes”. 

The kids were luckily well behaved for the race, having slept through a bit of it. They were also fortunate that, due to unfortunate circumstances, Logan joined them to watch a little bit of the Grand Prix. 

The best moment however, had to be when Oscar’s daughter saw him getting out of the car and finally muttered the words, “Daddy really drives the car!” to her mother. 

With all the excitement on the paddock about the Piastri twins, it seemed the media pen was more interested in what some of the drivers had to say about it, rather than asking questions about the race.

Logan Sargeant

“So Logan, rough day for you having to give up your car, but it seems your ‘niece and nephew’ have made their paddock debut, even rocking your own merch in the McLaren garage! How was that for you?” The interviewer asked.

“Yeah, them being here and keeping me company made it all a lot better. They immediately came to Williams because according to Oscar they were demanding to see me. And they wore the LS hats the entire time even though I wasn't racing so I think that has cemented me as the favorite once again.”

Lando Norris

“So it seems you and Logan Sargeant have a bit of an off track feud going on relating to the Norris twins and who their favorite uncle is. Logan had mentioned earlier that they had begged to go to Williams to visit him, before they even got to the McLaren garage. Did you know about this?”

The smile was immediately whipped from Lando’s face at this, “I had known, yes, when they came to the garage wearing Williams hats with a bag of treats in their hand I had assumed, but Oscar told me they just stopped over on the way there. I didn’t know they had asked specifically.”

“Seems he keeps lying to you about where the twins' loyalty lies.”

“He does! Makes me look like an idiot every time he does it.” Lando scoffed, “Whatever, I will win them over somehow. Logan just has a few years head start but I’ll find a way.”

Nico Hulkenburg

“Nico, a video posted by the Haas team earlier showed you and Kevin’s girls hanging out with the Piastri twins. Is there a budding friendship there between them?”

“Yes! They met for the first time today because Kevin and I had managed to bring our girls as well. So sweet seeing them altogether. I’m glad that Noemi will have more friends here. She was already telling her mom earlier that she wanted to plan a playdate with them. Might be hard given we live in different countries but I guess we will have to find a way.”

Daniel Ricciardo

“It's been a few months since it was revealed that your fellow aussie driver is a dad, now his kids are joining us on the paddock. What were your reactions at the time?” The interviewer asks.

“Well, I hadn’t known before he addressed it that he had kids, but it doesn’t seem like anyone else did so that isn’t too much of a surprise. Definitely a shock cause he is so young but good for him. I hadn’t seen his kids but I had heard they were over playing with the Haas girls which is adorable. He must be proud to show his kids what he does.” Daniel replied.

Alex Albon

“So, it seems one of your fellow 2019 rookie seems to have beef with your teammate over who is the better uncle to the Piastri twins. Being friends with both of them, do you have any input?”

“I knew before the rumors about the whole situation because Logan accidentally told most of our team when we were all kind of teasing him about how young he is and how he might be inexperienced in childcare, to which he then showed all of us the numerous pictures and videos of the twins that he took while babysitting or visiting, which I don’t think Oscar actually knew about him telling us. But it is sweet, he takes his uncle duties very seriously. Lando on the other hand, I think Oscar has done him an injustice by not telling him he isn’t the favorite because I think if he knew he had competition he would have been working much harder. Not that he isn’t also sweet with them but I think he may have offered to watch them a few more times.”

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers�� championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

[gothicgaycowboy]

accidentally breaking aegon’s nose by riding his face too hard

I was finally able to write something short and sweet aren’t you proud of me 🤭? as always this is my modern aegon who’s parents are rhaenyra and alicent, hope you enjoy it<3 (1.2k words)

You’d think by now you would know how to sit on your boyfriend’s face, but to be fair it wasn’t really your fault.

Aegon had been working you up all day knowing you would be too busy with work to get a moment away. From texting you every dirty thing he wanted to do to you, to sending you pictures of him laying in your bed with his half-hard cock telling you how much he missed you. You didn’t understand what had gotten into him. He’d always had a high libido but he wasn't usually such a tease about it.

Whatever it was though, it worked on you. You had gotten almost no work done, way too distracted by the spam of dirty messages. Just when you thought he was giving you a break, a familiar vibration pulsed from your phone. At that point you knew the drill, make sure no one was around before clicking on the notification.

Aeggs: he's so lonely without you :(

Accompanying the text was a photo of him; naked thighs spread wide, shirt unbuttoned revealing the chain that dangled around his neck, hand squeezing around the tip of his pink leaking cock as it dripped down his pale fingers.

At that moment you craved nothing more than to lick his hand clean, and suck the rest of his cum out of his beautiful cock. Your thighs squeezed together so hard you were sure they would be sore the next day.

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you may or may not have deceived your boss into thinking you were too ill to continue working. Faking being sick is something that everyone has done at some point in their lives—maybe not to go home and fuck their slutty boyfriends but still.

He didn’t even get a word in before you directed him. “Bed, now.”

He may not have been known as the smartest of all his brothers but he could follow orders like no other. By the time your clothes hit the floor Aegon was already laid bare before you. The sight he’d been teasing you with all day, finally within your reach.

“Don’t make me wait for it, baby,” a cocky smile graced your boyfriend’s pink lips. The fucking nerve of him.

“Me, make you wait? Me, tease you? Oh you’re gonna get it now.” You crawled over his body placing your legs on either side of his neck. “Put your hands where I can see them. You’re not allowed to touch me for that shit you pulled earlier, but I’m going to enjoy myself.”

He nodded obediently to your demands, clearly eager to get to work on your ‘punishment’. Without another word you plopped yourself down onto his waiting mouth, tugging his silver hair into your hands like a lead.

His tongue found its way to your clit quicker than it ever had before, causing you to jump with surprise. No matter how many times you two had sex you were always shocked by how fucking good he was at it. “Fuuck, Aegon,” Despite being in control this time you couldn’t help the submissive whines that spilled out of you.

The movements of Aegon’s mouth became more intense as his confidence tended to boost when you made ‘pretty noises’ for him—his words, not yours. His tongue expertly created a pattern of movements through your lips, dipping back and forth from your aching clit to your desperate hole, occasionally sucking at your bud until you could feel your pulse running through it.

He was like a man starved despite the fact that you had just done this very thing the night prior.

“You like that baby?” His question was mumbled against your pussy.

You sighed out of your nose just as upset as you were turned on that he was still so pleased to have you denying him any affection after the stunt he pulled today. “No talking.” Your tone was as harsh as you tugged harder at his locks until his face was completely flush to your cunt.

Still he persisted at his usual strenuous pace. You wanted to cry from pleasure, toes curling on both sides of your boyfriends head. Your hips began to rock at their own speed, meeting his mouth with equal eagerness.

“Yes just like that,” The vibrations of Aegons moans against you soaking core making it impossible to hold off your impending orgasm much longer. You were already so close and it felt like it had just started. Honestly it was a wonder to you how you managed to last even this long with how pent up you were all day.

“I’m gonna come, fuck,” Aegon let out a clear groan of encouragement underneath you. Unconsciously your pelvis began grinding harder against the Targaryen’s face, his nose bumping against your clit when it wasn’t being sucked between his lips. Your back arched as you visualized your peak coming to an end.

Harder.

Faster.

Pelvis meeting skull in a storm of passion.

Without meaning to, you slipped higher up your boyfriend’s face while grinding against him, desperate to reach your end. That’s when you felt it.

Crack.

You broke his fucking nose.

You acted swiftly, pulling yourself off him and making sure he was at least still alive. You gently tugged his face in your hands to gaze in your direction, getting a better look to assess the damage. “Fuck baby are you okay? I’m so sorry, oh shit—” his nose was leaning to the left side of his face with dark streams of blood leaking out of each nostril.

His eyes welled up slightly with tears in his waterline. “Why’d you stop?” Was the first thing out of his mouth.

You were completely blown away by his seeming lack of concern for his own safety. “You’re fucking joking right? Aegon, I broke your nose!”

“Yeah but you were almost done anyway.” He defended, looking more upset that you didn’t come than his bloodied nose.

A smile grew across your lips. How could one person manage to be so frustrating yet so cute at the same time? Your thumbs rubbed softly at the sides of his injured face. “You really are something you know that?” You laughed.

“Thank you.” He grinned before wincing at the pain of moving his face.

“We have to get you to the ER.” You moved away from him, running around the room to pick up both your clothes and dress yourself.

“But you haven’t even—” you cut him off before he could finish his stupid sentence.

“My orgasm is not nearly as important as making sure I didn’t permanently fuck up your nose. Get dressed, please, I’m going to get you an ice pack for that.” You pointed to the centre of his face.

He made a pouty noise but complied nonetheless, tugging some tissues out from the bedside table to absorb the blood running down his face.

You walked to the freezer, pulling out the cold compress. When you made your way back into the room you found a fully dressed Aegon who looked like the cat who ate the canary. You stood in front of him pushing the compress delicately against his nose. “What’s got you so excited all of a sudden?”

He smirk became wider. “Just thinking about how proud my mums will be when I tell them how I broke my nose.”

Your cheeks heated at his words. The image of his mothers mortified faces as he explains to them in detail how his injuries were caused entering your mind. “You’re not funny.”

“Oh I’m quite serious, they’ll be happier than when they found out I actually managed to get into a university without bribing anyone.”

You found out just how genuine he was being a couple days later when he dialed them up on speaker phone for you to hear.

[dira333]

Lovesick Fools - Barou Shoei x Reader

another (very late) contribution to @tetzoro 's Summer Olympics Collab!

Join My Taglist

Barou Shoei has two different sides to him.

There’s the King of Soccer, the one who dominates the field, who needs to do things on his own, even if it means becoming the villain of the story.

And there’s the Shoei you’ve gotten to know in all the moments he isn’t playing. A perfectionist. A heart with so many walls up, Fort Knox would be proud. A boy who didn’t believe love could be for him until it fell into his lap.

-

“We can’t tell anyone that we’re dating,” he announces one Friday afternoon after practice, his hair down for once.

“Okay?” You had expected him to come over, had cleaned the kitchen and prepped the snacks, your favorite cozy blanket already out for a snuggle season.

“I got the spot. For the Olympic team.”

“That’s wonderf-”

“If they know we’re dating they’re not going to ask you to come along.”

You blink. “Why not? It’s not like we can’t work together.”

“I asked if they knew which Manager would be asked to come and Isagi told me that Reia is out because she’s dating one of the players.”

You sigh. “They’re probably not going to ask me anyway. The team has some major games planned and even without you here they will need me.”

“Still,” he pulls you in, an earnest look on his face. “We cannot tell anyone, okay?”

“Fine,” you agree, slinging your arms around him. 

-

The letter arrives on Monday, an unassuming white envelope containing the information you’d silently dreaded.

You’re one of the Manager’s called in. You’re going to be flying to Paris with Shoei. Oh, to experience one of the most romantic cities on earth with your partner without letting anyone know that you are, in fact, dating.

At this point, you’d have taken the L of staying back home if it had meant being able to hug him goodbye openly.

-

“What are we going to do about the others?” You ask, phone pressed against your ear as you’re packing your bags. “Half of the team knows we’re dating.”

“I told them to keep it to themselves,” Shoei grunts. “Is my Pajama at your place?”

“Uh, yes, should I pack it for you?”

“I’m coming to fetch it. I’m not sure we’re going to have a chance to switch it.”

You sigh. “I really wish we didn’t have to do that. It feels so dishonest.”

“We can pretend we’re falling in love in Paris.”

“Mhm, because you’re going to be so charming, sweaty, and stressed after practice.”

“You did fall for me like that the first time, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

“Meanie,” you stick your tongue out at him even though he can’t see it. He sighs. 

For a moment he’s silent too, before he grumbles.

“I’m bringing my stuff. I’m sleeping over tonight.”

-

Somehow you make it through the first day without a slip-up. 

Even though Bachira calls you “Missus Barou” - he apologizes immediately for the friendly teasing and you thank the heavens that no one important overheard - and Rin sends you weird looks when you make it a point not to sit next to Shoei during dinner.

But then you’re in your room with the other managers, unable to fall asleep without your goodnight kiss, the cardboard bed not helping the slightest.

“I just… uh… need to pee one last time,” you excuse yourself, wandering out into the dark hallway only to run into Shoei, hair down, scowl on his face.

“Can’t sleep without you,” he mutters and you’re thankful for the darkness allowing you to curl into his embrace.

“This will have to do,” you mutter, kissing him the way you would at home.

-

Practice starts early, despite the jetlag. 

At least the breakfast is good - you take one chocolate muffin with you for later, unable to withstand the temptation of baked goods for long - and you’re promised to have the evenings to yourself to sightsee.

Paris is filled with tourist attractions. It wouldn’t be that much of a coincidence to run into Shoei if you’re both out to sightsee, right?

It’s only when he grabs your hand and you flinch away, scared that someone in the crowd could see, you realize just how stressed this situation is making you.

“Hey,” he grabs your hand again. “Please. I need this.”

“I know, I know.” You take a deep breath, try to calm yourself. “I’m just freaking out. What if anyone finds out?”

“You’re here now. They can’t fire you, right?”

You huff. “They might. I’m just a manager.”

“If they fire you, I’ll leave with you,” Barou promises.

Still. You keep PDA to a minimum until you’ve picked a spot for dinner, a table at the back of a cozy little restaurant, your faces hidden from sight.

-

And you might have made it out unscathed, with Shoei’s perfectionism and your anxiety working as a team, if not for your daily goodnight kiss.

The other managers are convinced you’ve got a nervous bladder with how you’re darting out of the room as soon as the lights are out, claiming you need to pee just one last time.

You don’t know what the boys are thinking, what Shoei tells them when he leaves to find you.

All you know is that it feels good to sink into his arms, to kiss him in the darkness where no one can see-

until someone turns on the lights.

You blink against the brightness, still very much clinging to Shoei.

Ego stares back at you, his features unamused as he walks past you toward the men’s bathrooms.

“Use protection,” he drawls out before closing the door behind him.

“Do you think we’re getting fired?” You ask, breathless with fear.

“No,” Shoei grumbles, pulling you closer. “I don’t think he cares.”

-

You don’t sleep much that night, which isn’t ideal because your first match is the very next day.

Not even the chocolate muffin tastes as good as it’s supposed to, anxiety weighing you down.

Shoei takes one look at the shadows under your eyes and marches up to Ego right before training.

“Can we talk for a moment, Coach?”

“No,” Ego drawls lazily. “You need to get ready.”

“About what you saw last night…” You wring your hands, too aware of all the other players listening in.

“Listen,” Ego turns toward the team, addressing all of them at once. “My Diamonds… I don’t care what you do after dark. But if you don’t show up at your best on this field, you’ll be cut from the roster. I don’t have time for lovesick fools.”

A few of them whistle through their teeth, realizing what this must be about.

Shoei glares at them until they stop before marching over until he’s by your side.

“Hear that?” He asks, barely able to contain the satisfied smirk. “You’re safe. I always play at my best.”

“Shut up,” you tell him, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. “You’ll just trip over your own Ego.”

“Never,” he promises, before kissing you, the whistling and whooping players around him be damned.

[bloop-bl00p]

Are the suffering and consequences in the room with us?

For a place that is supposed to be Hell, there’s little to no effort into showing that these people are punished. Not necessarily by the Hellborns, I very much like the approach of “Hell is other people” but the writers failed at showing us this aspect. Vivziepop's version of Hell feels more like L.A. painted in red. And that’s disappointing.

It’s still a messed up place but outside of episode 4, there’s no real investment in making sure we understand that this is HELL. We see people do drugs yet we see nobody in a zombie-like state on the street. The closest we had was a randoe in Happy Day in Hell but it was a joke.

This is something very blatant with HH, most of the time, when something serious is presented it’s a joke (Sexual assault, drugs, etc...) It’ll depend on whether you're Viv's favorite character or not.

*cough*

Sir Pentious was not.

*cough*

You also see this in how they approached the crimes committed by characters, most of them did messed up things but Charlie never tries to address these despite being the one supposed to care about redemption.

Vaggie participated in genocide, she was angry but for one episode only, and her rant to Alastor was too light-hearted to be taken seriously (again a joke). Rewatch the scene, with an Alastor that doesn't give a damn, the funny music in the background, her goofy facial expression and tone, that’s not taking it seriously narratively.

Alastor was a serial killer and took pleasure in torturing his victims. Currently, he’s a cannibal and slave owner, Charlie does nothing about it. I’m not asking her to free Husk and Nifty we don’t know if she really can, but she could have had a conversation asking Al to not torture people during his stay at the hotel or treat his employees like humans and not pets.

Angel Dust was part of the mafia. From what we’ve seen he isn't against killing people, in fact, he seems to like it.

Every time we see him fight he’s smiling and enjoying himself, it’s said in the pilot that he’ll never miss an opportunity to help Cherry fight in those turf wars of hers. But his problem is druUuUUugs (this is an issue but that’s the only thing pointed out.)

That’s even more noticeable with the cannibals… who are nice? Whoa… you’re saying that the people whose whole culture is to jump you at your most vulnerable, tear through your flesh with teeth and hands just to feast on you in the middle of the street are actually silly guys and gals who like meat a bit too much. How charming ☺️

She was more annoyed that guts and blood went into her eye than anything.

There isn’t enough effort to showcase the horrors of living in a place where your only chance to survive is to be physically stronger and a good manipulator. When we’re shown something awful like “murders or cannibalizing someone” it’s presented as quirky, and funny, and nobody really mentions it. Aren't we supposed to believe that Hell is a bad place as a whole? Is Extermination really the only thing we have to worry about?

What’s the point of adding concepts like forced labor, addiction, and an unfair hierarchical system if you’re not going to show the viewer the horrendous reality of these things?

Vivziepop needs to pick a consistent tone for her series, there’s nothing wrong with joking about murders and EdgyyYyy humor, but that makes the audience detach from the reality of these things and they will have a hard time caring for a character the second they are portrayed as bad. Especially when the transition between funny and serious is from one episode to another.

“Angel and Husk are suffering!!!!!”

The characters that are supposed to be addicts are sober every time we see them on screen. We see Husk drink alcohol directly from the bottle and rather than showing that the toxins are affecting his body by making him sluggish and/or on the verge of vomiting he’s still able to stand still and hold a conversation perfectly. Even if Husk drank like a sailor, there’s so much alcohol your liver can take before eventually letting it affect your system.

But maybe we could use his addiction in a way to reinforce the fact that he isn't free.

Think of it like this, show a few scenes where Husk is excessively drinking experiencing bad hangovers, and not doing his job correctly as a whole. Vaggie complains about this to Alastor saying that til now he has done nothing significant to help the hotel and the employees he brought aren’t even behaving properly. She threatens him saying that he might get kicked out if this continues.

To that, Alastor could later threaten Husk saying he better fix his drinking habits or he’ll broadcast his scream or whatever. Later Husk would still be drinking but you could have little details of Alastor side-eyeing him and him just letting go of his bottles. He’ll still be sluggish but he’ll make sure he’s sober enough to keep The Radio Demon happy.

We never really felt like Husk’s movements were controlled by Alastor, he was just brought into the hotel without his concent, that sucks, but he can still converse normally with the others. In the Pilot, he insulted Deer Boe in his face with no repercussions. A few more scenes like the one in episode 5 to reinforce the power dynamics between him and Al wouldn't kill.

And Angel Dust how many scenes do we see him do drugs yet his body is able to take it all?

He’s supposed to be an addict, there are few mentions of him hiding things in his room but it's all talking! Talking is not bad, you can talk, but it’s boring and holds NO substances when there isn't SHOWING. Imagine this:

Charlie is worried because it’s been an hour and Angel hasn't come back to the Hotel, she knows his schedule as a sex worker is extremely busy but she usually knows when he comes back and he didn't respond to any of her messages.

Before she could go out to search for him, Cherry burst out into the room, a beaten and knocked out Angel on her shoulder. She was barely standing herself as she was also injured, with many cuts freshly bleeding mainly on her arms and face.

Charlie and the other help her get Angel to his room to tend to his wounds and Cherry’s. When she asks for an explanation Bomb explains that Angel couldn't buy his usual stash of drugs at the local store he went to anymore, as it got plundered right after the end of the extermination, the owner was killed and the shop was vulnerable to thieves.

Angel was looking for a very rare type of drug, made in the Gluttony ring, usually, the things made there take you quickly to cloud nine practically knocking you out in the process. The store he bought it from was the only one with prices affordable enough for him.

He eventually found a gang that was willing to give him a very small portion of drugs in exchange for money. Except that he didn't have nearly enough for what they were asking but he still went with it just after his work in one of Val’s clubs, already a shitty idea since he was exposed to many illicit substances when working with the moth so he wasn’t clean.

Obliviously the gang didn't accept a slip payment and tried to rob and take advantage of him. Cherry stepped up, fought a bit, and escaped with Angel, thanks to her smoke bombs, before things could get too serious. She goes on a small rant about how she and Angel are friends and they mutually help each other, when her wounds are patched up she leaves not before asking Angel to call her when he wakes up. Before she could go Charlie proposed to her to stay at the hotel but Cherry refused stating that there were people in the street who probably needed her help, but she might send people to Charlie’s hotel if she felt like they couldn’t survive in the street.

There’s probably a lot I could fix with this story but that’s just a quick example. What did I manage to convey without blatantly saying it? Angel Dust isn’t in a great financial situation, his addiction is so bad that he’s willing to put himself in danger just to get his hand on the strongest dope and Hell is a fucked up place. I didn't say it I showed it and since you’re smart you understood the subtext.

Some will say that there’s Extermination, but first, we just learned that they can fight back and they have a year to prepare themselves so the stakes are lesser.

Second, it’s surprisingly easy to get angelic weapons.

Someone like Striker managed to get multiple angelic weapons to kill Stolas and a rope that neutralized his powers.

An imp, the cockroach of the society, either his killing business is extremely successful or Carmilla’s prices aren’t that high. And don’t go tell me “Stealaa bought it!!” that’s never implied or stated.

Plus the angel leaves these in the open, I’d say it’s quite easy to get one of those right after an Extermination, nobody was surprised Vaggie has a spear so it feels like it’s common for someone to have them.

[b-o-e]

sleepy phone call Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: fluff :))

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #6 :)

You find yourself unable to fall asleep, leading you to call Wally in the late hours of the night.

“Hello?”

Ah, jeez.

What had you been thinking?

You’d been staring up at your ceiling for who knows long. You’d been tossing and turning all night, unable to fall asleep, despite the exhaustion seeping through your body.

What made you think calling Wally would be a smart idea in your barely coherent state? Well, actually, it was probably just that. You incoherent state did.

“Hi,” you finally mustered out. You were already regretting your decisions. What if he’d been asleep? What if he had been peacefully reading a book in bed? Painting, for whatever reason?

“... Are you alright?” Wally’s voice returned, laced with concern. There was a bit of rustling. “It’s late,”

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. You were debating hanging up there and then, but that would be even worse at this point, wouldn't it?

“I don’t mind in the slightest.”

Your heart swelled. He was always so sweet and considerate, wasn’t he? Always there when you needed him. You shouldn't have doubted that.

“... I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, gnawing lightly on your bottom lip. 

“Ha ha, I think I know how that feels,”

You facepalmed. You’re an idiot, aren’t you? No, he had not been asleep.

Nonetheless, a giggle slipped past your lips, amused by your own silly mistake.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be one to speak, huh? That was insensitive,” you chuckled, “I’m sorry,”

“I don’t mind,” he told you. “I’m quite used to it. What keeps you up though, neighbour?”

What was keeping you awake? Really, you had no clue. Was it the fact that you couldn’t get him off your mind, to the point where you subconsciously thought ‘hey, calling Wally in the ungodly hours in the early morning is a good idea’?

You shifted your seated position, fiddling with the phone's cord as you pursed your lips in thought. Finally, you decided on an answer.

“I’m not entirely sure,” you sighed. “I just… maybe my brain is being too loud, tonight.” You claimed. It wasn't a lie, yet it saved you from telling the full, embarrassing truth.

“Is there something on your mind you’d like to speak about?” You heard a bit of light shuffling.

“I…” you paused, trying to find the words you wanted to say. “I’m not sure, honestly,” you grumbled. “I think… I think I just wanted to hear your voice,” you confessed to him, blunt and honest.

The call went silent. Anxiety bubbled in your stomach. Did that sound odd?

“Wally?” You forced a chuckle, wiping your sweaty palms on your sheets. When did it get so warm in your house? “Sorry, that was probably a strange thing to say, wasn’t it?” You apologized, grimacing a little.

“Not at all,” his response came swiftly, pausing before he continued. “I’m honoured to hear you say that, neighbour,”

“Okay,” you breathed, relieved you hadn’t creeped him out. You knew Wally wasn’t very judgemental, but you still worried sometimes with the things that slipped past your lips.

Silence fell between the two of you, leaving you to desperately wrack your brain to figure out the right words to say.

What was the point of being so uptight? You already let that last comment slide. You were getting too tired to care, anymore.

“Would you mind…” you began, taking a second to figure if you really wanted to say this.

“Would you mind, just… talking?” You requested shyly. 

“Hmm…” he hummed, “Would you like me to talk about anything in particular?”

“Anything,” you shook your head, despite the fact he wouldn't be able to see it.

“Anything…” Wally parroted, going quiet for a while. Your eyes fell shut, your body further into your mattress. Even with him on the phone now, you were feeling less restless than you had been beforehand. His company was comforting, even over a silly call.

“Can I… confess, something to you, neighbour?” Wally’s sweet voice returned to your ears. 

“Of course you can, Wally. I’m always here for you if you need me,” you mumbled.

“... Do you promise?” His tone almost seemed to be one of slight insecurity, an unusual sound for him. Your eyes reopened, staring back up at your ceiling. This seemed like something that could be important to him, and you wanted to ensure he had your full attention.

“Cross my heart, always and forever…” the words fell off your tongue with ease, repeating a vow he told to you some weeks prior. A promise you were more than willing to keep in return.

“Well,” Wally began, “I have… a secret. One that I’ve been keeping from you, that’s about you. One that I've found to cause me some distress,” 

About you? Now, that was a bit worrisome. 

“I hope I haven’t done anything wrong to harm you,” you stressed. That was the last thing you wanted.

“No, no, you’ve done nothing wrong at all,”

“Thank goodness, I was terrified,” you breathed a chuckle, your worry levels lowering. The feeling was still there, as you remained unsure of what the cause of Wally’s distress truly was.

“Sorry, neighbour… I’m struggling to find the right words to say it to you,” he admitted, sounding slightly defeated.

“Take your time, Wally. There’s no rush. I’ll be ready when you are,” you tried to put his mind at ease.

You could hear him inhale deep and slow, holding it for a few moments, before letting it back out. He spoke gently.

“Your eyes,”

He paused for only a second, releasing a sigh.

“They rob the words off of my tongue.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes widening in surprise.

“My heart,” he went on, “it sings with euphoria every second you are near,”

There was no way this was happening.

“Ha ha… we may as well call it yours, with how full of you it is,”

Said heart pounded in your chest so loud, you could hear it in your head. 

“It’s no secret how I enjoy indulging in art quite frequently,” He continued.

“And yet, you manage to be the most extravagant masterpiece I’ve come across,” His voice was at a new level of gentleness than you’ve ever heard before. It was filled with nothing but open honesty, although you felt like there was something else laced in with it.

“You’re unfathomably endearing, and I crave more of you every time we part. That night we spent time together under the stars?” He ended with a questioning lilt, causing you to reflect back on that evening.

“There were so many things I wanted to say to you then. I wanted to tell you that if you asked me to, I’d figure out a way to give you the moon. That, despite the sky full of them, you shine brighter than any star up there in my eyes,” 

You didn’t know what to say. Truth be told, you were simply just… speechless.

“And after all this time, I’m still dancing around the point that I’m trying to get across, ha ha,” 

“The truth is, my darling…”

Your mind is playing tricks on you, if you heard what you were expecting next.

“... I’m in lo–”

You slammed the phone down on its base.

This was not happening.

Were you dreaming? 

Have you been asleep this whole time, stuck in an extremely realistic dream?

The pain in your arm when you pinched it tightly answered that question for you…

You stared into the darkness of your house, wide eyed.

Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“Of course he was!” You answered that question aloud, slapping your hands to your face.

And you just hung up on him!

You froze.

You hung up on him.

…

You scrambled out of bed.

You tripped over your twisted blankets in the process.

Go, go, go! Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t care to put on any shoes. It was the least of your concerns right now. You yanked your front door open, darting out of it, and making a mad dash to Home.

Your feet padded against the ground below them, your legs moving faster than you thought they even could. Your adrenaline was spiking through the roof!

What if it was too late now? What if you ruined your chances, forever?

Your brain nagged at you. What if this? What if that?

When you came into Home’s view, it didn't even see you as you approached, attention focussed elsewhere. Once it did take notice of you, its door swung open for you, swaying slightly as if to usher you in. That's exactly what you did. 

Your eyes, blurred with stressed tears, scanned the room around you. Drifting to the table where Wally's phone typically sat, you found it to be missing. You followed the line that connected to the wall, ending at the landline, sat right next to the man you were looking for. 

His head lifted from his knees, attention captured by the sound of your hurried breaths as your body tried to compose itself. 

His widened in shock eyes met yours, teardrops rolling down his cheeks as they did on yours. No matter, a smile still remained on his features, despite being the most pathetic you’ve ever seen. You stared at each other for a moment, until you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“Say it to my face,” you panted out.

You walked closer, kneeling before him, your hands cupping his cheeks. His own came up, wrapping gently around your wrists.

“Please,” you begged softly, voice cracking with desperation, choked up. “Please, Wally, say it to my face,”

His gaze softened, never breaking from yours. He opened his mouth, hesitating.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered.

And that’s all you needed to hear.

You closed the gap between you, kissing him, his grip on your wrists tightening. 

“Again?” You murmured softly as you pulled away, looking into his awestruck eyes. He took a moment to process what had happened, before he responded.

“... I’m in love with you,” 

Your lips pressed to his in another gentle kiss, Wally having the mind to return it, more prepared this time. When you pulled away, the corners of his smile quirked upwards.

“Ha ha, again?” He was the one to request this time, leaning his forehead against yours. “I'm in love with you,” he repeated, hopeful of receiving another kiss. You gave a choked giggle, giving him what he desired. You pecked his lips, his cheeks, and then his forehead.

“I’m in love with you too, Darling.” 

imagine getting deceived twice in a row AHAHAAH, I had to make you think it would be more angst so you wouldn't expect this ending like so many of you did, bwahahah! yes, you get a happy ending! yippe! however, this still isn't the end, and there is more to come!

but! feelings are out there! feelings are reciprocated! yippee! I hope you enjoyed this part, maybe just a smidge more than the last, haha!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

alas!! 'tis all for now! next will likely be out in two days! like and reblogs are extremely appreciated, gimme dopamine rahhhh!!! until next time! MWAH! <3

Posted Sunday, May 6, 2023, at 11:37 AM

[iwabaam]

Shameless

Synopsis: An overwhelming night out turned into an unexpected meeting with a stranger.

Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, pnv, nipple sucking, reader and Choso are both drunk, dubcon, premature ejaculation

Word Count: 3.7k

It was a Saturday night on a summer day, and the air outside was moist and clammy. At a house party that your friends dragged you to, you figured that it might be better inside the house rather than outside. Boy, were you wrong.

Despite the fact that you were wearing nothing but shorts and a thin tank top, inside the house, it just may have been worse. Sweaty bodies collide against each other as music bounces off of the walls at an alarming rate, your shoes stuck to the floor with every step, alcohol, soda, and whatever else could be on the floor, making you cringe. You’re not sure why you let your friends drag you out this time. Maybe your body craved some fun, or maybe it craved to get loose. Unfortunately, being here only makes you even more tense.

 

The little bit of alcohol that you had downed just an hour before arriving was getting to you now, making you slightly dizzy as you tried to navigate through the crowd to find somewhere, anywhere, to finally be able to breathe. Your friends had long since dashed off into different directions, no longer caring about what the hell you were doing, and to be honest, you didn’t necessarily care, either. 

 

Trudging through the crowd, you finally found a place less crowded. The staircase. Now, you didn’t know whose house this was, or if you were even allowed upstairs, but the few people hanging out on the stairs told you that it was okay. And if it wasn’t…you’d worry about that later. You tried to bypass your dizziness as you walked up the stairs, gripping tight on the staircase. You pushed past a few people that were in your way, muttering a few 'sorrys’ as you did so.

 

Eventually, you made it to the second floor, and you finally felt like you could breathe. There were a few people up there, but most of them were just chatting and drinking, likely up there for the same reason as you. You sighed, suddenly feeling the urge to pee, and you fanned yourself while looking around at the closed doors throughout the hallway of the upper floor. Man, it was hot…

 

There had to be a bathroom up here behind one of these doors, though. You started to walk down the hallway, opening door after door, before you stumbled on a bedroom. Looking inside, you saw that no one was there, which was a rarity when it came to this overly crowded party. You tip-toed inside, seeing an open bathroom door within the room, and you closed the bedroom door behind you. You then went to use the bathroom, not bothering to close the bathroom door all the way before you sat on the toilet, sighing in relief. You still felt a bit dizzy from the alcohol, so you shook your head as if to shake the drunkenness away. Despite your little ‘attempt’, that did not work.

 

After flushing the toilet, you quickly washed your hands before you made your way to leave the bathroom, opening the door but not realizing the shadow that cast in the crack of the door, and before you knew it, you collided right into something—or someone—feeling a horrid wetness spilling down your shirt.

“O-oh, fuck, I’m sorry,” Said a male voice, and you blinked a few times, your vision coming into focus to see that you had bumped into a man. A very fine one at that. His eyebrows were twisted into worry as he gazed at you, his pupils slightly dilated, likely out of drunkenness.

 

“Uh, no, you’re good.” You said, though a bit awkwardly. You then pointed to the bathroom behind you. “Do you need to use the bathroom? It’s free. I’ll just, uh…go.” Hesitating for a moment, you turned to leave the room, but not before you felt a hand grab your wrist.

 

“Wait, no-” The man spoke, and you turned around, perplexed. “You can’t go out.”

 

“Huh?” You jeered at him. Why was this random dude telling you what to do? You sucked your teeth before you yanked your arm out of his grip, making your way back to the door once more without another word, a bit of a stumble in your gait as you did so, the alcohol in your system not making it any easier.

 

“No!” Before you could open the door, the man grabbed your waist, pulling you from the door. “You can’t leave, not…not like that.”

 

“What are you even-” Before you could finish your sentence, you stopped, seeing his gaze on something else. Following his line of sight, you saw how drenched your shirt was in the front, your nipples being showcased as clear as day. Your eyes widened, suddenly remembering that wetness that had spilled down your shirt just a minute ago.

 

“I didn’t mean to, you just caught me off guard, and…” You could visibly see him gulp, his adam's apple bobbing, as he shamelessly looked down at your breasts. He then shook his head, closing his eyes tightly, before he moved you from the door, his hands still on your waist. “B-but that’s why you can’t go out. You—we have to do something.”

 

“We?” You asked in confusion, and you scrunched your nose in distaste, the smell of the alcohol spilled on you, pungent in your nostrils. “The hell is this, what was in that cup?”

 

“Just vodka.” He said it nonchalantly with a shrug, apparently not being able to get his eyes off of your breasts.

 

“Why…why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, curling in on yourself so that you wouldn’t be as exposed as you were.

 

“Wait-” You weren’t expecting his hands to grab at your wrists, preventing you from fully covering yourself up, but then he quickly let go. “Shit, I’m sorry. Please don’t think I’m weird.” He then turned away, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, I know! You can have my shirt, that way, you don’t have to be exposed.” Before you could say anything, he was quick to take his shirt off, leaving his top half bare to your eyes.

 

“Hey, wait, that’s not necessary,” You said, though you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his well built chest, not exactly expecting that to be underneath his shirt. Maybe it was due to the alcohol in your system, but damn…it felt like the room was getting hotter.

 

Choso looked at you incredulously. “Wha…are you sure? Your…your, uh…” He looked back down at your breasts before whispering. “I can see them.”

 

You sucked your teeth at him, looking at him with a deadpan expression. “Yeah, I know, I can see them, too.” You retorted, and his face dropped a little. “I’ll just stay in here until my shirt dries. I don’t need your shirt, but thanks.”

 

“Aw, man, but I can’t leave you like this.” He said, a small whine coming out of him. “It’s all my fault.” He held his head in his hands dramatically.

 

“Then don’t leave, I guess.” You shrugged.

 

“But, if I don’t leave, I’ll…” For what seemed like the 1,000th time tonight, his eyes were glued back on your breasts, and you saw him gulp once more, as if saliva was just threatening to drip from the corners of his mouth. “I’m Choso.”

 

You couldn’t help but be taken aback by his rather random introduction, a laugh emitting from your lips. “Okay?” You said with a tilt of your head. “I’m Y/N.”

 

“Nice to meet you…Y/N.” He said, your name rolling off his tongue easily. “They’re very n-nice.” You furrowed your brows in confusion before he shook his head, realizing that what he said was rather cryptic. “I mean your tits.” Now, he wasn’t hiding it at all, the tip of his tongue leaping out to wet his lips.

 

“You’re not very subtle.” There was a lilt in your voice, one that would make it obvious to most that you were merely teasing.

 

“It’s kinda hard to be subtle when you look like that…” He said, his voice getting quieter as it seemed like he was leaning in closer to your nearly exposed nipples. Wait, no…he was leaning closer. “I’m just a lil’ drunk, so don’t mind if I-”

 

A startled yelp leapt from your lips as he eventually closed in on you, his face going directly into the wet cavern of your cleavage. “What the fuck!?” Was this guy serious?

 

“Mmmh,” He hummed, nuzzling his face further. “Forgive me…Y/N was your name, right?” He spoke, lifting his head up a bit to look at you, the sudden eye contact almost sent a shiver down your spine. His face was coated with the thinnest sheen of the vodka he had spilled on your shirt, his tongue poking out to wet his lips once more. “You wouldn’t mind if I jus’...” Your breath hitched as his large hands caressed up your waist before reaching the mounds of your breasts, slightly squeezing.

Now, any other time or place, you would’ve slapped the shit out of him, and hell, you still might. Yet, the way he groped you made a forced groan spill from your lips, your body tensing up for a split second.

 

Well, shit…did you like this? The slight desperation and lust mixed in with alcohol clouded his pretty eyes as he looked up at you, and there was no doubt that he saw how he affected you in such a short time. He took this as a green light, his palms pushing your breasts together through your shirt, the ceiling light gleaming on the wet mounds before he leaned in closer, letting his tongue brush against one of your nipples.

 

“Shit…” You whispered, your back arching towards him. You blinked a few times in surprise as you tried to come to your senses, despite the fact that your panties were starting to stick to your lower lips. “Yo, Choso, hold on a sec, w-what are you doing?”

 

“Tiddies.” He simply mumbled before he slipped a clothed nipple in his mouth, sucking the vodka out of your shirt.

 

Your lips parted as you whimpered at his ministrations, trying to speak once more. “I know- hah- I know that’s what they are, but who said you could-”

 

“Please.” He pleaded, his voice dripping with desperation as he looked back up at you through his lashes, groping your tits with more fervor. “Lemme jus’ enjoy this, I’ll give you something real good after.” He said, not bothering to wait for an answer before he was quick to lift your shirt up over your boobs, the subtle bounce enticing him more than anything else. “So pretty…” He groaned, diving in between your mounds to flatten his tongue on your sternum, licking from the bottom up.

 

At this point, you didn’t even want to argue about it, your hands coming up to tangle in his messy locks that were pulled into two ponytails. “Ah, what the fuck ever-” You mumbled as you allowed him to lick down your breasts, cleaning the spilled vodka off of your skin. A muffled groan left him as he once again attached his lips to your right nipple, kissing it before enveloping it in his warm mouth, sucking on the bud. With his other hand, he groped your left breast, kneading it into his palm. 

 

It was almost as if he was obsessed, switching between both of your tits to get his fix until he had sucked and licked every drop of vodka off of your skin. He relished in the sounds that you made, every breath and whimper going straight down to his already rock hard cock, begging to be set free from his boxers. 

 

Once he finally let up from your tits, he looked you in the eye, slowly backing you up until the back of your knees hit the bed, causing you to widen your eyes in surprise as you fell backward.

 

“Fuck, your tits are so pretty.” He groaned, moving to hover over you on the bed. Shit, whose bed was this, anyway? What if someone walked in?

“Wait-” You stammered out, lowkey feeling a bit nervous at the straight lust penetrating you with just his eyes, your palm resting on his chest. “You’re not, like, planning on fucking me, right? Do you know whose bed this is?”

 

He stared down at you in silence for a moment before spreading your legs and resting his body in between them. “I do plan on fucking you.” He simply said, lowering himself down far enough that you felt his warm breath tickle your lips. “And no, I don’t know whose bed this is. That doesn’t matter.”

 

“It kinda does matter.” You retorted with a nervous chuckle, though the moisture between your thighs was telling you that you needed dick, now.

 

“No.” He shook his head, wetting his lips as he lowered his hips to meet yours.

 

“Oh…!” You gasped once you felt his hardness press hard into your covered folds, your hips bucking up out of your control.

 

“Fuck…” He whispered, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment before opening them back up. “C’mon, princess, please? I’ll make you feel really good.” He groaned, biting his lip as he grinded his hips down into you, rubbing down directly on your clothed clit. “Jus’ once…jus’ one time, p-please?” He begged, his voice dying down to a whine as a shiver went through him, his cock twitching in his pants.

 

You didn’t know how long you could possibly try and act like he wasn’t affecting you. This man, whom you had met less than 30 minutes ago, was the cause of your soaked panties and spit-shined tits. Your pussy clenched around nothing, as if begging you to cut the act and let him shove his cock into her already.

 

It took just one more delicious grind of his hips before you had made up your mind, your brows furrowing in frustration. “Fine, you can-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Choso had already sat up on his knees, working on unbuttoning his jeans. He was quick to hook his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers before pulling them down along with his jeans, his cock springing out of its confines. 

 

Your jaw dropped. Choso’s cock was big. Big and thick, one big vein underneath the shaft from the balls to right under the mushroom tip. It was red and angry, pre-cum dripping from his tip, so much of it, that his whole cock glistened in the light. You gulped, your mouth watering at the sight, but you only snapped out of it once you felt your clit throb again, pleading for attention. 

 

“Choso, you have to be quick, someone could walk in at any time.” You said, though that was only partly true. Other than the fact that you were in a house that neither of you owned nor lived in, there was also the fact that you wanted—no, you needed him to fill you up as soon as possible.

 

“Oh, I’ll be quick.” He grunted, wasting no time to pull your shorts off in a hurry, the clothing dangling on one leg as he spread your thighs once more. He groaned at the sight of your thin panties sticking to your soaking pussy, your lips outlined in the fabric. “You’re so wet, shit.” He nearly whined before moving your panties to the side and sliding a thick finger through your messy folds, causing your hips to twitch ever so slightly.

 

His eyes were locked on your pussy, a lip in between his teeth as he focused on every little squelch, clench, and twitch on your most sensitive area.

 

“Choso…” You whined, starting to get impatient. “Quick, remember?”

 

It was as if Choso was knocked back to reality, his eyes widening for a moment as he looked back up at you. “Right, right, my bad.” he apologized breathlessly, a glassy look in his eye as he got back to business. “Quick.” He whispered to himself before he aligned the tip of his cock at your sopping entrance, wasting no more time before he breached your walls.

 

You sucked in a breath through your teeth as his fat tip slowly started bullying itself into you, the stretch stinging yet it felt so painfully good. He shut his eyes tight, holding his breath as he sank into your wet heat inch by inch.

 

“Ah, fuuuck, you’re s-so tight.” He groaned, his fists balling the sheets beside your head as he hovered above you, a slight tremble in his hips as he sank further and further. Your lips parted in a soft moan as he filled you up slowly, his pelvis meeting with yours. He paused as he let out a shaky breath, his self control slipping. God, he felt like he was about to bust already. You were so tight and wet, your cavern clenching around his throbbing cock like a glove. 

 

You were about to tell him to start moving already, but it seemed like he was a step ahead of you, his hands going down to grasp at your hips before he pulled back until only the tip was inside of you before slowly inching back in. A plethora of profanities spilled from his lips as he pushed back into your tight heat, a shiver going down his spine.

 

His cock felt fucking magnificent already, dragging along your walls as he set a steady pace, relishing your moans and the faces you made as you took his cock.

 

A heavy blush set on his face as he realized that he might just cum a little too quickly. He was barely 10 pumps in, and his whines were louder than yours as he quickened his pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting louder within the room. Your body jerked with each thrust, and the bed started to creak under the weight of both of you.

 

Choso bent down to nuzzle his head in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pressing kisses there as he tried not to cum on the spot. “You f-feel so good,” He moaned, moving his hand to grab your thigh as he pushed it further up to give him more space to angle his hips as he pushed into you.

 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your head dropping onto the mattress underneath you as you hissed through your teeth once you felt him push harder into you.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum-” His grip on your thigh tightened as his nails dug into your skin, and you were too far gone to even register what was said, his cock slamming into your walls at a now merciless pace, your toes curled as your thighs jiggled with the impact of his thrusts. You could feel your high start to build up, a lewd moan torn from your throat as you felt his tip press at your cervix, causing you to buck up into him.

 

You don’t even notice him getting whiner and whinier as he kept fucking into you until his cock wildly twitched inside of you, and he was quick to pull out. “C-cumming,” He groaned, brows furrowed, as his cum shot out of his slit in thick ropes, coating your wet lips and your stomach. His hips bucked with every spurt of his cum, making a mess out of you for what seemed like forever until he finally calmed down. “Oh shit-” The tips of his ears went stark red as he realized how quick he just came, especially after the promise of making you feel good.

 

“Uh…” You didn't know what to say. Sure, you didn't want to make him feel bad about cumming, but damn, you wanted to cum so bad. 

 

Before you could say anything to try and make this less awkward, Choso jumped at the opportunity. “Don't worry, I'll make it up to you-” He said quickly, sliding off the bed and dragging you to the edge of the bed before going down to his knees.

 

But, you couldn't even get excited at the prospect of feeling his tongue on your clit, a sharp knock on the door snapped the both of you out of it, freezing as you looked at the door.

 

“Yo, why the hell is my door locked?” A voice called out on the other side of the wooden door, annoyance radiating through the wood.

 

Choso looked at you incredulously, and you frowned.

 

“Why are you looking at me like I did it?” You said with a scowl, frustrated that you couldn't even get off tonight. 

 

Choso growled in annoyance before standing up from the floor, pulling his pants up to hide his half-hard cock. He hesitated for a moment in confusion before picking his shirt up off of the floor, using it to clean the sticky cum off of your pussy lips and stomach, flinching once the person on the other door started banging on it. “Ah, shit.” Choso sighed, his face almost pained as you moved quickly to put your clothes back on. Before you could make any other moves to book it out of here, Choso grabbed ahold of your chin, making you face him. “This isn't over, okay?” He said, voice firm, despite just how weak your pussy made him.

 

“What are you-”

 

“Give me your number.” He said, it almost came off as a command if it wasn't for the pleading whine in his voice. There was another harsh bang on the door, followed by some incoherent shouting and the aggressive wiggling of the door.

 

Anxiety spiked, you shook your head, looking between the door and him. “We don't have ti-”

 

“Fuck that, I don't care about that.” He interrupted curtly, eyes determined. “I need your number. You won't regret it, I promise.” 

 

You sucked your teeth before you snatched the phone that he was handing you, and you were quick to input your number, almost throwing it back at him. Choso, though, didn't seem to care much as he looked at the saved contact with a relieved smile. 

 

“Thanks, princess.” He chuckled before he leaned in to give you a quick, yet unexpected, kiss on the lips before he stood up straight, heading for the door. “See you soon, then.”

 

You then watched him open the door, whatever commotion was going on outside the door falling on deaf ears as you imagined just how he could possibly make up for not getting you off, and just how soon it was going to happen…

[chernabogs]

For da prompt... ‘  i’m  tired  of  being  a  prince.  i  think  i  would  actually  enjoy  being  a  frog.  ’ with Malleus...🐸

can u imagine froglleus...

Hop To It

Inc: Malleus Draconia, Reader/Yuu, 1 goat, 1 cow, 1 frog Warnings: None bc this is actually a really sweet fic I promise. I diverted from angst and more into feel good for once LMAO. WC: 4k Summary: Your nocturnal friend invites you to an event at a local zoo. If he could've adopted that goat from Fleur City, he probably would've.

It’s not often you find yourself able to catch a break. Usually, your weekends are filled with needing to deal with the mountain of homework that’s grown over the week from neglect—not at your fault, of course. When you have a housemate with the mentality of a two-year old toddler, two friends that are magnets for chaos, and an overblot a month, things tend to pile up without you noticing.

But on this fine, dare you even say perfect, weekend you finally find yourself capable of catching your breath for a moment. You glance at your alarm clock to see that it’s well past the time that you usually wake up, and so with a languid air about you, you reach out to grab your phone and check the notifications.

You have a few text messages from the various group chats that you’re in—study ones save for the first year's chat—and then a few private messages. Your eyebrow raises at one in particular as your thumb drifts down to click it open. 

Ominous and to the point, isn’t he? You suppress a low chuckle of amusement as you pull up the keyboard. Despite both you and the Shroud brothers working overtime to teach Malleus the ropes of modern technology, including texting etiquette, he still seems to not grasp it in its entirety.

You think it a perfectly reasonable thing to ask. You know that your friend is of nocturnal affinity, but you’d think he’d realize you’re not apt to reply at 3 am by now. Within seconds of sending your message your phone buzzes again with a reply. 

Cut and dry, much like the man himself. He reminds you vaguely of an older parent trying to get their child's attention as you click the call button and heave a sigh. It rings once, then again, before the sound of someone picking up has a slow smile pulling on your lips. 

“I’m in your 3 am thoughts, am I?” You muse as you roll to the side to keep the charger cable from pulling too much. 

“Incorrect. Small mammals, in fact, are my 3 am thoughts.” Malleus’ smooth voice cuts down your hopes in 10 words as your brow furrows in confusion. 

“Elaborate.” In your time of knowing him, you’ve also come to realize that, to those he feels comfortable with, Malleus has a habit of streamlining his thoughts with little to no interruption from his brain to his mouth. Around politicians and strangers, he was perfectly composed in all ways. Around you, he was a certified yapper. 

“I have been made aware of the Sage Island Zoo hosting an event I’m most keen on attending, and considering what I know of you, I’d say you’d share the sentiment.” You hear a clattering sound from the other side of the line, followed by a mumbled curse before Malleus continues. “I want to pet a goat.” 

“I…” You click the speaker button on your phone before pulling up your browser to type in the zoo. “Hold on, I need to figure out what’s in your brain right now.” 

“Let me know when you succeed in doing so.” Malleus shot back as you scrolled through the zoo’s feed. You soon come across a post that seems to tell you what the man is going on about. There’s a petting zoo and expo happening at the zoo this weekend. Present will be the usual armada: lambs, goats, pigs, and alpacas. But they also highlight a special reptile and amphibian petting area as well. 

You give a small ‘ah’ of understanding as you share the post via text message with him. You doubt he’ll look at it—the complex multitasking of looking at a text message and talking on the line is still something that surpasses your young apprentices’ abilities. “You mean the petting event at the zoo, yeah? They got goats and such there.” 

“Correct! Well done, Prefect. I knew your fantastic abilities of deduction would get you there eventually.” 

You wish you could reach through the phone to pinch his smarmy face for that comment as you roll onto your back again. “And you thought of me when you saw that? Aw, Malleus. I am your 3 am thoughts!” 

“Did you want to go or not? I can easily invite Lilia, or Sebek, or Silver… although I fear Silver may end up falling asleep in the petting area. Or drawing far too many of the animals to him again…that might be quite the mess…” Malleus trails off into a thoughtful silence, which is another thing you’ve come to realize your friend does a lot. 

“Fortunately for you, my super busy calendar actually has an opening today that I can squeeze some ‘you’ time into.” You sit up with a groan of protest before looking over to Grim’s bed, where your companion is still snoring away, his belly and paws to the sky. “I don’t think Grim will be coming with us, though.” 

“That is fine. I fear he may not be compatible with the animals anyway.”

Your eyes narrow at how quickly Malleus is to agree that it would just be you and him going as you shoved the blankets off your legs. “Okay, then. Can you give me 30—” you pause and tug at your shirt sleeve for a moment before grimacing, “—actually, give me an hour. Then we can head out. The event starts at 10?” 

“According to their poster, yes. I saved it so that I may check to be sure.” Malleus sounds pleased of the fact that he’s managed to save an image from social media without a crisis happening. 

“I’m proud of you for that. If that’s the case, then let’s grab a drink beforehand.” You yawn as you finally rouse yourself, unplugging your phone and sliding your feet into your slippers. The floors of Ramshackle still manage to be brutally cold in the mornings, even with the new renovations done. You’d need to question Crowley on the furnace in the future. “I need some kind of breakfast.” 

“Perhaps if you woke at a reasonable hour, breakfast would not be a concern.” You hear the teasing lilt in Malleus’ voice. He’s in a playful mood today—more so then usual. 

He’s probably just pumped to get out and about again. 

Your nose wrinkles as your finger hovers over the ‘end call’ button. “Not everyone is nocturnal. I’ll see you soon.” 

____________________

An hour later finds you yawning in the lineup of a local coffee shop. The weather outside is continuing to be promising, with its blue skies and temperate air. You’re basking in the ambience of it all while Malleus, bless his heart, is pushing a pair of sunglasses onto his face. 

“It isn’t even that bright out,” you smirk at him as the two of you move closer in the line. A few patrons are staring at Malleus as he remains close to your side. You can’t quite blame them. Some might be gawking at the fact that the crown prince is standing in a coffee shop line like everyone else. Others might be doing so at the fact that he’s out again post-overblot. 

It’s been a bit of an uphill battle to get him on his feet—which is partially why you’re keen to keep him in this rare, uplifted mood. 

“To you,” he shoots back as he crosses his arms. A beige bag is slung over his shoulder, and he’s surprisingly dressed down for the occasion, wearing simple black dress pants and a dark long-sleeve shirt. You think the fact that he’s managed to wrangle up a pair of hiking boots from somewhere is quaint, too. He almost looks like he’d fit into a petting zoo environment. “To me, it is borderline blinding.” 

“My condolences for the weakness of your eyes.” You focus your attention back to the menu ahead as you feel his elbow hit into your side, making you hiss before chuckling. This coffee shop in question has become somewhat of a routine visit for you both whenever you’re out in town together, which is often done a) late at night and b) in the company of the rest of the quartet. Your attendance has been frequent enough though that you now know both yours and Malleus’ usual order. 

He likes his coffee black. You like yours with enough sugar that it might appeal to Sebek’s tastes. 

“I feel like you’re being ingenuine with that.” Despite the hurt in his tone, you know it’s all bullshit by the smirk that touches on the edge of his lips as you finally shuffle to the front of the line. After stating your orders to the slightly nervous looking barista behind the counter (who must be new, considering that the others are all used to Malleus by now), you spot Malleus reaching for his wallet in your peripheral. A sharp swat of your hand on his arm stops him in his tracks as you tap the debit card Crowley so kindly loaned you on the machine. 

“You didn’t need to do that.” He sighs as the two of you step aside to wait for the orders as you shrug and lean on the counter. You don’t mind buying something for your friends—especially if it’s Crowley’s money you’re spending. “I have more than enough funds to afford a cup of coffee.” 

“It isn’t about the money, it’s about the satisfaction it brings me to buy you something as a token of appreciation for inviting me out.” You pat his arm as the barista sets your cups on the counter before you hand it to him. You selectively ignore the way his fingers touch your hand for longer than necessary before withdrawing with his beverage. 

“Anyway, let’s go wrestle a kid, hm?” 

____________________

Malleus manages to get his revenge swiftly and without mercy when the two of you arrive at the zoo. Before you can even shift your cup into your other hand to grab your wallet, he’s stepping in front of you and setting down more than enough madol to purchase two passes. A part of you wants to tease him over this matter, but the man looks so damn proud when he turns and hands you the ticket that you just shake your head with a smirk and let him have it. 

Another thing about your friend—you can’t expect to do something for him and not have it returned in kind. You know he’s felt indebted to a lot of people ever since his overblot, and small gestures like this make him feel better in a way. You really have missed seeing his smile. 

You come to a stop when you get into the zoo itself to pull out the map of the area. “Right, so we need to figure out where—”

“Goats.” Malleus is looping your arm with his before you can even finish your sentence and hauling you to the side, leaving you to yelp at the suddenness of the motion. His bicep feels like solid stone against yours, which leaves you to accept the fact that you’re not getting out of this any time soon—and that you should really take Jack up on those workout suggestions. 

You continue to feel the stares as Malleus leads the charge towards whatever destination he has set in mind. A few people scatter off the walkway, and one particularly curious child points up at Malleus’ horns while boldly asking his mother ‘why does that man have horns?,’ but Malleus has blinders on as the two of you finally spot a sign for the petting exhibition ahead. 

The sign is large—as is the crowd. 

“Shit,” you mumble as you step closer to your companion. Usually you’re good with lots of people, but considering that it’s both hot out and now you’re entering a crowded space, you feel a knot of anxiety forming. Malleus’ other hand comes to rest on yours as he easily manoeuvres around with a few murmured apologies. His gaze is sharp and he seems far more alert now.

You figure it must be innate at this point. As a crown prince, being aware in crowds is a given, especially considering the high risk of kidnappings and assassination attempts that seem to plague the upper class of NRC. It’s only when a loud bleating sound cuts through the air that a smile graces his lips again as he pulls you aside. 

“Oh, marvellous,” he chuckles as he releases your arm (your poor, poor arm) and leans against the fence. A small grey goat is standing by the post, a few bits of hay hanging out of its mouth as it languidly chews. It looks like every other goat you’ve seen before—and yet Malleus is beaming like the thing is a divine gift. “Remember when that goat followed me around at Noble Bell, Prefect?” 

“Hard to forget. Sebek wanted to punt it across the square.” You lean against the fence next to him as he reaches down to pet the goat's head between its horns. The goat bleats again and tips its head back to bite at Malleus’ sleeve instead. “Probably because it kept doing that to you.” 

“Oh, you are bold, aren’t you? Unfortunately, I am not the snack that you seek.” Malleus sighs in mock despondence as he pushes the feeder closer to the goat. You jump onto his comment pretty quickly. 

“Did you just call yourself a snack?” You lean forward more to look up at Malleus, who diligently ignores you in face of cooing over the goat. You know this technique—it’s another one that your friend loves to do. 

The ‘I can’t hear you’ method. 

Well, you’re happy his confidence is back at least. You stealthily take a few pictures of him fawning over the animal to send to Lilia later before pocketing your phone and moving down the line. A few piglets are romping around their pen, as well as some ponies in the next, and a baby calf who looks up at you with doe-like brown eyes. It’s enough to make you stop and give the little guy some love as Malleus finally returns to your side. 

“See? Even you cannot resist indulging.” Malleus reaches out to scratch behind the calf’s ear with a smile as the small creature shuffles closer to the fence. “Innocence has a way of pulling us in. This calf knows nothing but what it has seen in the few areas it’s been carried to. It knows its mother, what it eats, its handlers, the stars, and not too much else.” 

“That’s a pretty sentimental way of looking at it,” you concede as you withdraw your hand and straighten up. The calf looks to you with those big brown eyes again before lowering its head to eat some of the hay off the floor. 

It seems utterly at ease with both you and Malleus—which is more than what could be said with the crowd. The stares towards your companion have amplified, and you can see it’s beginning to make him irate by the way he keeps casting a few dark looks over his shoulder. His one hand grips the fence hard enough that you’re worried he might snap the wood in a moment. In a bid to retain some of the peace of the day, you loop your arm with his, which causes his attention to snap back to you in surprise as you slot yourself easily against his side. 

“Wanna see what’s in the reptiles and amphibian section?”

____________________

You must admit, a part of you wants to see if any of the animals would react to Malleus. The man is a dragon-fae, after all. You know that bats flock around Lilia, and you’ve seen more than a few black-feathered birds cluttering around Crowley’s office window, but you’ve never seen any lizards or frogs responding to Malleus. So, when you enter the darkened room with the many tanks illuminated by heating lamps, you’re hopeful to see something amusing. 

Instead, you find that half of the cold-blooded fellows are still in their morning siesta. 

“It appears we’ve come at an inopportune moment for them.” Malleus seems more at ease now with both you at his side and the smaller crowd milling in the reptile section. Because of the darkness of the room, less people take note of the prince as you two make your rounds from tank to tank. A few ball pythons stir and look at you, and a gecko is plastered against the tank at another section, but most of the creatures lose interest and settle back to themselves within a few moments. 

Until you reach the frog tank. 

A sign posted at the side which reads ‘lift the lid at your own risk’ prompts a glimmer of interest in Malleus’ bright green eyes as he nudges the lid open to peer inside. Most of the frogs seem to still be dozing in their makeshift burrows, but one stirs awake when the lid pops open. The frog yawns and reaches a hand to rub its belly, blinking lazily as it does. 

You hear Malleus give a small ‘oh’ as he leans closer in interest. “My, he seems quite at ease, isn’t he?” 

“Probably thinks you’re his cousin or something,” you snicker as you look down at the other frogs in the tank. Malleus shoots you a narrow-eyed look before leaning back again. 

“... it’d be quite nice to be a frog, hm?” He gives a sigh before his gaze drifts to the other amphibians. “No stress, no conversation. Just hopping and eating.”

He does another pause of contemplative silence before continuing. “I’m quite tired of being a prince, you know. I think I would enjoy being a frog.” 

You lean back and look at him with a cross of both concern and amusement on your face. “Don’t the frogs usually try to become princes in the stories?” 

“I like to shake things up.” He flashes you a sharp-toothed grin as he looks back in the tank. Despite the amusement in his words and the smile he gave, you can still see the edges of exhaustion and frustration at the recesses of his expression. The crowd rubbed him wrong. He’s been on edge ever since his overblot, and it’s small things like that which send him back into makeshift pits of both despair and doubt. 

You don’t want to see him go back there, and you certainly don’t want Lilia questioning (again) why Malleus is in a sour mood (again). After the whole fiasco with him, the poor man is stressed enough as is without the addition of Malleus’ mental health. 

“You know what?” Your words come out as stern, causing his attention to snap to you in concern. “I know few people may say this, and many may not feel this way, but I like to consider myself somewhat of a different stock. So, I just want you to know, upon my heart and all the tuna I can offer Grim—”

You pause for a moment to draw it out, relishing in the way Malleus seems increasingly concerned before you finish. “—I’d still like you if you were a frog.” 

Malleus blinks slowly as your words tumble through his mind for a second before his expression falls flat. “I… really, Prefect.” 

You can’t keep the facade of sternness any longer as a grin appears and you nudge your companion in his ribs. A reluctant look of amusement crosses his features at this. “Let’s step outside for a second. This crowd is going to drive me insane.” 

____________________

The air feels fresher once you’re free of the crowds as you settle beneath the shade of a tree to finish your drinks. A breeze brushes over your skin and manages to cool some of the anxiety that blossomed from being amongst so many people after so long of being confined in your dorm on weekends. Malleus seems to grow more at ease as well when it becomes just the two of you again. 

“So.” You begin as you pop the lid off your coffee to slot it into the now empty cup. “You looked a little tense back by the cow pen.” 

Malleus is quiet for a moment as he sips his drink before clearing his throat. “Did I?” 

“Mhm. Are you doing okay?” A glance up at his face reveals his gaze fixated on the crowd beyond. He doesn’t answer you immediately as he takes another drink. When he does speak, his tone is less-guarded then before. 

Another thing about Malleus: somehow, throughout the trials and tribulations, he’s become a lot more open about how he’s feeling with everyone. 

“Not particularly.” He finally comments as he crushes his empty cup and tosses it into a nearby trash. “I don’t like to admit it—for it feels rather ridiculous to get upset over—but it still bothers me to a degree when some people… well. You saw.” 

You toss your cup into the trash alongside his. “Why is that ridiculous? You’re entitled to how you feel about something, you know.”

“It’s below my station.” A frown dances on his lips at this. You send him a sharp look in return. 

“Emotions aren’t below your station, Malleus. You’re allowed to feel upset if something is upsetting to you. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you need to bottle things up all the time. I would hope you’d realize that by now after everything that happened. You and the others all needed a lesson in emotional intelligence.” 

Malleus doesn’t reply, which leads you to keep talking to fill the silence. For a certified talker, he was certainly being mute about this. “I understand that it sucks, like really sucks, when people don’t want to talk to you, or treat you like an outlier because of your looks or your status. I know that you want people to engage with you, and you’re putting in the work to do that! You’re going to the coffee shop and talking to the barista’s; you’re coming out to places like this where people will be. The more they see you and get to know you, the more relaxed they’ll feel.” 

“It takes a long time.” His response is curt as he stares at the crowd. You give a sigh and shuffle to stand in front of him. He doesn’t seem aware of what you’re about to do before you’re moving forward to drag that man into the best hug you can give a guy whose arms are crossed in a huff. He tenses under your hold for a moment, and you begin to think that maybe he really is carved from stone, until he finally relaxes and lets you do what you need to do.

The guys probably only received a hug a good six or seven times in his life. You feel like you both need this. 

“It may take a while, but it does happen. The barista’s talk to you with no issue now, and the new one will get that way too. Again—you’re putting in the work, and I can see that, so please don’t try to bottle up all your feelings again. Or Lilia will kill us both.” 

You feel him huff a chuckle as his hand comes to rest on your back. His touch is warm in a way that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed, and you sink into that contact with a content sigh. The two of you remain in this embrace for a few seconds longer before you withdraw and awkwardly pat the prince’s arms. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he looks at you, gratitude easing its way into his features. You clear your throat and offer him a lopsided smile.

“Wanna try petting the goats one more time?” You ask softly. “Maybe they won’t try to eat your clothing the second trip through.” 

Malleus exhales, his shoulders relaxing as he takes your arm into his once more. “Yes, although I don’t hold much hope about that being true.”

[muffinsin]

you know what, fuck it we ball. i gave the dani and cass monsterfucker prompts, lemme cook one up for bela real fast in your ask box while i am yet again sleep deprived.

let’s put bela with a lycan (heh). feel like we’ve seen a couple lycan requests, but i’m gonna put a breeding focus on this one. similar to cass’ i guess. sweet, darling bela is gunna have to carry a litter of lycan pups to full term, though.

she’s thinking about that and all the consequences that come with it the whole time she’s getting railed after having been pounced on, and for some reason being unwilling to push the beast off. pheromones? she’s a little loopy on them, it’s clouding her judgement. not to mention this situation, unfortunately, really turns her on, despite the fact that she’s soo anxious about the fat knot smacking against her cunt getting forced inside, and so anxious about being pumped full of so much werewolf cum that makes her look pregnant alone. starts thinking about how many pups she might be given. will it be a whole litter? how many pups come in a lycan litter? how is that going to affect her body? etc. thinks about lactation too. probably gotta produce a whole lot to feed a litter, ya know?

very big on bela mommy issues dimitrescu being a sucker for this kind of stuff deep in the back of her mind. she wants to be a breeding toy, she just doesn’t quite know it. lycan lover will help her out.

picturing them not being able to really speak while transformed. maybe a couple words here and there, but it’s difficult. they’re really mostly a monster right now. not so much of a monster that they won’t give her some sweet aftercare lovin’ while she cockwarms them due to the inflated knot being unlikely to go down for a good while, though. oh, and they’re Hung. “it won’t fit!” kind of hung, but they make it work 🥴

- 🐺

Hell yeah!🙌 My much needed reminder that I write smut? Perhaps XD At last, after months, poor Bela is getting some monsterfucking loving too, hm? XD Let’s get into it, everyone!

Masterlists

In one moment, she feels curiosity. In the next, her body tenses as a loud roar is heard echoing in the dimly lit cave. Bela bites down on her lip harshly, her bright, golden eyes scanning over the stony edges of the walls of the cave.

She feels slightly dizzy, her brain fuzzy, her limbs oddly heavy. A thick scent lingers in the air, one she feels strangely tempted to follow.

She can’t recall why she entered the cave in the first place, not usually one for such curiosity.

And yet..now she can’t seem to leave again. As if in a trance, she keeps on walking, uncaring of her heels scraping against the stone and muddy ground. She feels slightly cold, just enough for her to shiver, yet not quite enough to pose a threat.

She jumps a little when she hears a loud snarl again. What is she doing? She can’t seem to resist the scent clouding her judgement and senses.

Bela’s eyes widen slightly for a moment when- at last- she finds the source of this sound. A creature, curled up, yet monstrous in size. If it were to stand, she is sure it would be towering above her, and only stand slightly shorter than Alcina herself.

She keeps on walking, until she stands, frozen, right in front of the creature. Her eyes widen suddenly, as if only now aware of it. What is she to do?

To slay the beast? Gulping, she gazes around the cave, trying to find anything to use to her advantage. However..nothing. She scans the lycan-like monster again.

Large, muscular, with sharp teeth pointing out from its mouth. She shivers again. No, fighting the beast is not an option.

Still, as she stares the creature down..

Bela’s body tenses again, her eyes flickering over it. She sees the sharp claws, the strong torso…

Her eyes land on the large, still limp cock between the creature’s legs. Suddenly, the scent grows stronger, and without understanding why or standing any chance at resisting it, her body lurches forwards, and suddenly her face is smudged against the warm, oddly comforting thigh.

She sees the massive thing twitch, her eyes wandering over the thick knot wearily.

She can’t quite understand. All she does, is feel.

She feels her body submitting to the monster, her pussy aching and drooling, her heart yearning to be close. She doesn’t understand.

As if in a trance, her hands move across her body. She removes her cape and hood, then her dress. Left only in her underwear, stockings and heels, Bela positions herself along the creature’s large arm.

She doesn’t even notice she has begun rutting her clothed pussy against it.

Then, the creature stirs. Her eyes widen, and for a moment she seems able to rip herself away. She turns halfway to her swarm form fast, making for the way out. She recognizes it, is almost there..

Then, she shrieks, as large paw-like hands push against her back and force her to the ground, and the large creature hovers above her. She’s pinned, struggling against the dirty and wet ground.

Then, she tenses, as a long tongue drags against her neck. She shivers, her nose picking up on the creature’s scent that now sticks to her.

Another lick, and another. She feels dizzy almost, her pussy clenching and aching, yearning for the creature’s large cock. She feels shame; has she always been this easy? Surely not! Have years of neglecting her sexual side and sex with the staff turned her into this? Turned her into a slut easy enough to even get turned on by a lycan of all things?! What would Mother think!

Bela gasps when she is turned roughly, her head throbbing for a moment before she can realise what is happening. She feels and hears her clothing tear, sharp teeth and claws slashing through the skin tight dress and grazing her pale, porcelain skin slightly.

She doesn’t attempt to push the creature off, she can’t, and somehow, doesn’t want to. All she feels is its large cock, limp before and slowly hardening against her thigh. To her horror, the thing grows as it hardens, so the monstrosity turns to an even huger dick. She whimpers momentarily.

How could this fit? What’s going to happen to her? Will it breed her? Somewhere in the back of her mind she realises..summer is breeding season.

She gasps when the sandpaper-like tongue drags down her neck, leaving almost slimy saliva in its path. She shivers underneath the lycan, golden eyes taking in the monster’s form. Then, she jumps, when sharp teeth graze her hip.

Suddenly, her head is filled with the desire to be bitten, to be claimed in the most intimate and primal of ways. She yearns for it, suddenly, her mind foggy, her body yearning, her back arching as though presenting her to her captor.

The lycan snarls and growls, and the blonde yelps when she feels the strong tongue lick across her inner thigh next.

“W-Wait!”, she shrieks as a massive hand wraps around her thick thigh, and gasps when she is spread open. With a single bite her underwear is snatched from her, leaving her shivering as the damp air of the cave hits her privates.

To her embarrassment, she is already soaked, her clit pulsing, her lips glistening with the wetness that drips from her.

The beast straddles her fully, its large clawed hands grabbing onto her petite wrists and pinning them above her head. Bela is a mess of thoughts.

What is happening? How come she is enjoying this so much?!

She feels so wet, she needs this so bad.

Never has she felt this turned on in her life..

She must get back! She must escape! Mother will be furious! Cassandra will never let her live it down! Daniela will never give her a break from the jokes and mockery!

She must feel the massive cock in her..so thick, so strong, already twitching as it is aligned to hang proudly between her legs.

Bela whimpers as she feels the thick, glistening wet tip against her tight pussy. Having neglected her needs in favor of working hard, she’s impossibly tight for the large cock dangling between her thighs. Let alone the huge knot…

The thought strikes fear into her mind. How could she possibly take the massive girth? How could her pussy ever recover from the stretch?

How could she take such a large knot? How could it ever fit into her?! What if..

What if she is bred?

Her eyes widen a little at the thought. So what if she is bred? What if the beast pumps load after load of thick cum into her?

The proud heiress of Alcina Dimitrescu, the noblest of her sisters, reduced to a cum dump, made to become a mate and be bred until she carries a litter of lycans in her womb.

She gasps, then screams and moans, as the thick tip pushes into her. Its soft head goes in easily despite the tightness, and Bela moans when, after years, she finally feels full again.

Yet, upon glancing down, she sees that barely the tip has made it in. There is a lot to go, still, and she already feels it as warm, no- hot, precum drools from the monstrous lycan and right into her.

Her thoughts wander more and more the foggier her brain gets and the higher she seems to get on the pheromones and scent surrounding her.

How many lycans make a litter? Two? Three? Six? Seven? Twelve?! She can’t remember, but by the size of the knot sitting at the base of the cock, she must fear for the worst.

Her hip is grabbed, then a strong arm is wrapped around her. She feels more of the cock push itself inside of her.

Her back arches and she feels the arm around her tighten, then can’t help but giggle when she is lifted off the floor.

“A-AAh! AH! Gnmnn!”

She throws her head back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she feels more and more fill her.

At last, she feels the knot pushed up against her stretched pussy.

“Ple-Please!”, she gasps. How on earth could she fit that knot into her?! As the creature’s hips pull back and the cock begins to slip out of her, she feels her pussy grip it tightly. It’s as though every part of her body tries to keep the monstrosity in her, as though despite what fears plague her mind, her body is eager and relentless to be bred.

For a moment, shame has her cheeks burn up and flush bright pink. She moans as she feels the long tongue explore her neck and grunts in pleasure as her captor’s hips slap back against her own.

“N-Ngnnm, yes! Y-yes! O-Oh god!”

They draw back, then snap to her again, making her jolt. She tugs her arms half heartedly, and unsurprisingly, the lycan’s grip only tightens on her.

She moans with every little drop of hot wetness that leaks into her. She gasps as thick and heavy balls slap against her ass, plap! Plap! Plap! With every thrust.

So thick..Bela’s head is thrown back as she merely thinks of how much cum they must hold inside. How much she will be made to cold inside.

“I-Oh..yes! Yes! A-Ah!”, she screams. She feels herself pushed closer and closer to her orgasm already within moments of this treatment.

But really, she can’t be blamed! Not when poor Bela’s pussy and body is unused to such treatment, when she clenches tightly around the cock and feels it stretch her more with every thrust.

And how can she be blamed, when she feels the thick tip push up against the back of her womb when it is fully nestled inside of her, when she feels the wet head rub up against her pink, spongy and wet insides.

She groans and moans, louder and louder and louder.

And the creature seems painfully aware of her state. She is grabbed hard and yanked about, her petite body used to practically jerk her up and down on the massive cock.

When she cums embarrassingly fast, tears begin to run down her cheek. Yet she yearns for more, fear and arousal filling her mind when she feels the heavy knot push up against her.

Even with a stretched pussy, she can’t imagine a single way such a thing could fit into her!

She gasps and moans loudly with every thrust into her wet and tight cunt. Each causes the thick knot to smack against her and nearly has her flinch each time.

Truly, she can’t grasp how such a thing could ever fit into her!

It seems, too, her monstrous captor couldn’t care less that she came. If anything, Bela feels the talons holding her tightening and the cock within her twitch.

Yes, she can imagine she is quite warm, wet and tight around the beast now. And still she gasps and moans high pitched with every little thrust and move into and out of her.

She is yanked and pulled, the rough treatment accompanied by almost sweet licks against her neck. She feels lightheaded already, little sighs escaping her thick lips here and there.

As she is fucked faster and she feels more and more precum drip into her, her attention is pulled to the fact she is being bred yet again.

And again, it feels her with a strange warmth that has her cheeks heat up, her ass clench and her pussy grip the cock stretching her sore tightly.

She wonders, will she bear a round stomach as she carries a litter of Lycans? The thought has her whimper and arch her back as best as she can.

Yes, she is already reeking of the creature, after all!

Will her breasts grow even larger and ache, so full of milk for her little pups? Bela gasps at the thought alone.

“N-A-AAh! AH! Ah! Yes! YES!”

She screams, loud and passionate, when she suddenly feels the teeth that have been rubbing against her neck push inside.

Warmth spreads throughout her body. She’s shaking, trembling and moaning, gasping and shrieking as she cums again. She knows, deep down, the bite has claimed her as the creature’s.

She groans when she suddenly feels cum be shot into her, massive amounts enough to cover her entire face- head even- if it was shot into it.

She squirms helplessly as she is pumped full of it, her arms held tightly, her neck forced still by sharp teeth, her pussy plugged with the cock as more and more cum floods her insides.

Her eyes widen as she looks down and finds her own stomach, growing more and more the more seed is pumped inside. She whines, her legs attempting to cross, her hips trembling in an attempt to move. But the large cock stays inside, and the beast only snarls angrily at her foolishness.

Soon, her stomach is round and full, large enough for poor Bela to let herself lean fully against the ground and the lycan, too weak and sore to carry the unexpected weight of her cum-filled stomach.

Already, it looks as though the monster impregnated her.

For a moment, the creature only pants. Bela catches her breath at last as she moves her hand to her neck, her bottom lip becoming trapped between her teeth as she feels two large bite marks on there. Blood smears around it, but below the sweet fluid, she feels the puncture wounds.

Then, however, her excitement is cut short and replaced by terror, arousal and fear.

The knot.

She mewls as it presses against her stretched pussy, harder and harder. She feels it throb and its warmth, its sheer size…

“It won’t fit!”, she pleads. The creature seems to think otherwise, as it snarls and growls, its grip tightening on Bela for a moment. She gasps when she is flipped over, so now her bare breasts are pushed up against the hard rock and muddy ground.

Her round stomach aches as it rests on the floor and poor little Bela whimpers in embarrassment as she feels more cum leak from her pussy again with every single breath.

She feels her leg be pulled to the aside and shivers slightly as the warm air of the cave hits her wet privates.

Then, she feels the knot push against her again. The monstrous lycan mounts her easily, its sheer size alone dominating the blonde.

Then, with a scream and a moan of pleasure, she feels it, finally. The knot, impossibly big, forced into her soaked pussy and sealing it like a plug. She whimpers and moans loudly.

She is grabbed tightly, her stomach a shameful, but arousal reminder of her new status as this monster’s mate and breeding puppet.

She gasps when there is even slight movement. More, and more. The creature can’t thrust into her with the knot in the way, but even the smallest of movements and turns give both insane amount of pleasure.

Bela is panting again quickly, her hands cupping her stomach and breast. She feels the blood pour from her neck, down her collarbone and past her breasts.

She feels her last orgasm of the day rising already within a few moments, her body seemingly automatically responding to the large knot inside.

When the creature bends down to lick her swollen stomach, she nearly cums from it alone. Yes…all this seed in her, the knot..she knows, she will be bred and impregnated.

Her cheeks heat up, her nipples harden, her ass clenches and tightens around nothing. Her pussy milks the cock and knot in her.

Bela whimpers and moans, pants even. She can’t bring her mind to think of anything but being what she is made to be now, a breeding toy. A future mother to a litter of lycans.

She thinks of her round belly, her sore and aching breasts leaking milk, a dozen little wolves running around.

She thinks of possessiveness, the one the creature has already showered her in.

A few more movements, and with a scream, the beautiful blonde cums again. She mewls as her mate does the same, the large, hard knot at least shrinking slightly in her.

She is held close as she whimpers and cries, her stretched pussy pumped full to the brink, so much so her own cum and the creature’s heavy, thick one. She feels the cum drip and smear everywhere, even.

Then, it seems over at last. Her eyes are heavy, her stomach even rounder and fuller. The knot rests in her, as if still acting like a plug that traps the creature’s seed in her.

Exhausted, she allows the large thing to shift her. She feels soft fur against her, and a gentle tongue running along her throat and stomach.

It’s almost..lovingly.

With a smile on her lips, she allows her eyes to slip shut

[persevereforahappyending]

Maybe in Another Life |4|

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hunter of Artemis!Reader

Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.

Warnings: Slight Titans Curse Spoilers

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12 | ch. 13 | ch. 14 | ch. 15 | ch. 16 | ch. 17

“Just let me come,” you whisper yelled at Zoe. The sun had just started to come up and though all the Hunters were awake, the rest of the camp wasn’t.

“No,” Zoe whispered back harshly. “We went over this. You are needed here; you are in charge when Artemis and I aren’t around.”

“That was before Phoebe got sick,” you pointed to the bed where the other Hunters were taking care of Phoebe. The shirt the campers had gifted her had been laced with something making her sick and it was going to take to long for her to recover, the others needed to leave for the quest now.

“This doesn’t change anything. We’ll just do it with four.”

“The quest demands five.” You crossed your arms, daring Zoe to argue with you. The prophecy said five and though prophecies could be miss leading the one thing they tended to get right was the number of people involved. Trying to defy a prophecy tended to not work out.

“I need you here and I’m not taking anyone else. Now, we have to go.” Zoe nodded at Bianca who quickly grabbed her bag and went out the door to wait.

“Zoe-”

“My decision is final,” Zoe snapped. “Am I clear?” she stepped closer, looking up at you. You were taller, you were older, but that didn’t change the fact that Zoe was in charge.

“Understood,” you said.

With that Zoe swung her bag over her shoulder and marched out the door. You unclenched your jaw and slowly breathed out through your nose before following after her. You might not have been allowed to go on the quest but that didn’t mean you weren’t still going to see them off like you always did. You were silently hoping the dread you had been feeling ever since Artemis left on her mission was you just being paranoid and now with Zoe you wanted to write it off as being petty about not being able to go on the quest yourself.

As a daughter of Nike you desired victory, almost above all else, it was an issue many times. You had gotten better since joining the Hunters and Artemis helped show you victory wasn’t everything, though you still desired to win and be on top at the end of the day. Winning wasn’t the only thing being a child of Nike gave you though, you also could usually judge who would come out victorious in certain situations.

Whether it be watching a game, a sparing session, or watching two sides fight a war, Nike was always there. Nike could sense which side would come out on top. It’s one of the reasons, while Nike was seen with both Ares and Athena, she was usually more connected with being at Athena’s side. Ares loved a good fight and though he enjoyed winning, he didn’t really care one way or another, as long as the fight was good. Athena, however, was all about strategy and that usually led to her victory. Nike chose whose side to be at based on who was more likely guaranteed victory, she could sense it.

With this quest, a feeling had brewed inside you and had since stayed there. If you were to focus on it, you would find that you were sure that the quest would be a success. You could sense that the group would be victorious in their mission. However, you knew the victory, like most victories in time of war, would come at a great cost. Winning was usually everything, but there was something tugging at the back of your mind telling you that this time, despite the victory that loomed ahead, you’d rather take the lost, for you did not want to pay the price of this victory.

You followed Zoe and Bianca up to the entrance of Camp Half-Blood, seeing Thalia standing next to the tree she once was. “Reminiscing about old times?” you snarked unable to help yourself.

Thalia turned, taking her hand away from the tree it had been resting on. She only offered a glare before dismissing you and solely looking at Zoe. “Are we ready?” she asked, her arms crossed.

“Yes,” Zoe answered.

Zoe turned to you, ready to say something, but you were looking around at the group before you. “Aren’t you missing-”

“I’m here!” Grover yelled, running up to all of you as he struggled getting his bag over his shoulder. “I’m here,” he said again. He rested his hands on his hips as he began taking deep breaths after running all the way from wherever he had come from.

Zoe looked down at the wheezing satyr. You were starting to think maybe you were lucky for not going on the quest. “Let’s move,” Zoe said, turning on her heel and already marching off without the others.

“Zoe!” you called out. She turned, looking up at you from where she stood on the hill. You stared at her, trying to find the words you wanted to say. You ended up not needing to say anything, Zoe already knowing what you wanted to say gave you a nod.

You stood at the top of the hill, watching them set off until they disappeared from your line of sight once they hit the woods. You let out a sigh before turning and making your way back down the hill into camp. You didn’t bother going back to the cabin, you already knew you wouldn’t be any help to Phoebe so you might as well stay out of the way. Besides, you needed a distraction, your mind was already spiraling with what could potentially happen on the quest, what might happen to Zoe, and what Artemis must be going through.

You made your way to the training area, picking out a dummy on the far end. You unsheathed your sword and swung, nailing the dummy in the neck. You dealt blow after blow onto the poor training dummy, the wood was beginning to splinter.

“So, they left for the quest,” a voice interrupted your training dummy demolishing. You spun around, slashing the blade down onto the dummy’s neck causing a crack to echo throughout the still sleeping camp. With your sword still in hand you turned to see Percy standing there. He had wide eyes as he looked behind you at the nearly decapitated dummy. “Chiron won’t be happy.”

You rolled your eyes, the last thing you cared about was what Chiron thought. “It’s a training dummy, it’s literally what it’s meant for.” Percy didn’t say anything, he just stood there shifting from one foot to another. “What are you doing here? It’s barely morning.” You gestured around to the still dark sky; the sun was just beginning to peak up over the horizon.

“Look, I get you’re a Hunter,” he said defensively, waving his hands around, “and you hate all men.” You rested the hand still holding the sword on your hip as you raised an eyebrow at him. “But, you don’t even know me! We’ve never even had a real conversation. I don’t think it’s fair to judge me based on-”

“Have you ever considered,” you interrupted him. “That I don’t hate all men and me not liking you, is solely to do with you?”

Percy opened and closed his mouth a few times before settling on a frown. He looked up at you with wide eyes as he pouted. You rolled your eyes; it wasn’t like you were going to take it back or apologize. Percy was a tad annoying when you first met him and then the other day, he had the audacity to question your shooting skills, he might as well be an enemy for life after that.

“Not everyone likes you,” another voice interrupted the two of you. You looked up while Percy whipped around, nearly tripping over his own feet. “You should be used to that by now,” Clarisse looked Percy up and down as she approached you.

You looked at Percy as he just stood there staring at Clarisse, pouting. You raised an eyebrow wondering if he would get the hint, but you got the impression he was rather oblivious. Clarisse crossed her arms and continued to glare at him. “Why are you still here?” she snapped, causing Percy to jump from the sudden outburst. “Bye!” she gestured away with her hand which Percy took as his cue and ran off back towards the cabins.

It was still dark, the sun taking its time to rise. Percy never managed to answer you as to why he was wandering around so early. You didn’t really care; you wouldn’t be surprised if Percy had been intending to sneak off. He was bummed, he couldn’t go on the quest and the only thing on his mind seemed to be rescuing his friend.

Clarisse glanced over your shoulder at your mostly decapitated dummy. “Not bad,” she shrugged. “But a training dummy isn’t exactly a moving target.”

“Is that a challenge?” you questioned, your eyes lighting up with excitement. A fun and intense sparring session is exactly the kind of thing that could get you to stop thinking about Zoe and the quest.

She cocked her head to the side with a smirk. “Think you can keep up? This isn’t going to be some fun little,” she wiggled her hand, “bow and arrow trick.”

You chuckled, knowing she had no idea what she was getting herself into. “I thought you would have learned your lesson during capture the flag, guess not,” you sighed. “I’ll even give you an advantage,” you smirked. “You can choose the weapons.”

Clarisse clenched her jaw; you wouldn’t be surprised if she was grinding her teeth. You awaited her response with a smirk. “Swords,” she finally said through gritted teeth.

You silently laughed. “Okay.” You gestured for her to lead the way and you followed behind her. You were surprised she didn’t argue with you about you kicking her ass the day before. You were going to take it as her knowing you were right.

When you got to the sparring ring Clarisse walked to one side while you walked to the other. You watched as she pulled out her sword, examining it and twirling around in her hand. You looked down at your own sword, extending your arm as you played with the balance until Clarisse was ready. You turned to check on her to see she was turning to face you. You both stood across from each other at opposite ends before you each took a step into the ring at the same time.

You and Clarisse circled each other in the sparring ring. You twirled the sword in your hand as you watched her movements carefully. Just because it was sparring didn’t mean you’d let her win. A bow and arrow might have been the preferred weapon of Artemis and her Hunters but all of you were skilled in a variety of weapons. You might not have remembered much about your time before you became a Hunter, but you did remember the first weapon you ever picked up, the first weapon you ever killed a monster with was a sword. The bow and arrow was an extension of yourself now, a second arm, but picking up a sword was like greeting an old friend.

Your sword was one of the only things you carried from mortal life to your immortal one. You left everything behind, only taking the sword you now currently held in your hands. The sword was a relatively simple thing, well simple compared to something like Percy’s, yours didn’t turn into a pen at your convenience or reappear in your pocket no matter where you seemingly lost it. The blade was celestial bronze, like most demigod weapons, the hilt was steel, with a golden laurel wreath on each side of the pommel. You had it specially made from a blacksmith or maybe it was a child of Hephaestus, you couldn’t really remember, it had been a thousand years after all. Whoever forged it, you had them place laurel wreaths to represent your mother, to represent your impending victory.

You knew you wouldn’t have to wait long, children of Ares were impatient, as well as cocky and arrogant. Clarisse would make her first move and that would set your eventual victory into motion. As if on cue Clarisse swung her sword, you smirked as you brought your sword up, your blade meeting hers in a loud clash. You gripped your sword tightly before pushing back, forcing Clarisse to step back. She glared at you before making her next move.

Clarisse swung, you blocked. She swung at you, you blocked again. The two of you fell into a dance of slashing and blocking each other. You eventually gave in, swinging at her occasionally, you didn’t always play the defensive. You knew Clarisse was good in a fight, she had a powerful swing, but you were curious if she was just as good at defending herself. Being good in a fight was meaningless if you couldn’t protect yourself. You could be the best fighter in the world, but it didn’t matter if you couldn’t block a simple attack.

“How long have you guys been out here?” a feminine voice asked.

You and Clarisse just clashed swords, holding them against each other as both of you turned to see Silena approaching you. You and Clarisse each released your hold and turned to fully greet Silena. You and her had apparently been at it for a while, the sun had fully risen and there were other campers beginning to walk about around camp. You glanced at Clarisse to see she seemed just as shocked, neither of you had been aware of the passing time, the two of you were so engaged in your sparring match.

“It’s time for breakfast,” Silena said. “And you have to eat something,” she pointed an accusatory finger at Clarisse.

Clarisse rolled her eyes but nodded, nonetheless. She had her sword resting at her side as she tried to catch her breath. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were until the two of you stopped. You looked over at the daughter of Ares then down at yourself seeing that both of you were dripping in sweat.

“Uh oh, someone’s in trouble with the girlfriend,” you joked, not able to help but take another shot at her.

Clarisse flicked a glare at you. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“You too!” Silena moved her accusatory finger towards you. “Breakfast important! And she is not my girlfriend,” she looked at Clarisse as if the idea of dating the girl horrified her.

“Yeah, cause she’s to busy being in love with Beckendorf,” Clarisse teased, smirking at her friend’s reddening face.

“I told you that in confidence,” Silena stepped forward, slapping Clarisse in the arm. There wasn’t enough force in the slap to hurt Clarisse, but she did stumble back, but not without laughing at Silena’s antics. “Let’s go,” she demanded. “And you’re joining us,” she pointed at you, narrowing her eyes so you knew there would be arguing or getting out of it.

You and Clarisse both shared a look, having the same thought about Silena. Regardless the two of you followed Silena to the dining pavilion. All of you gathered up breakfast on your plates, making your offering to the gods before taking a seat at one of the tables. It was still early enough that the pavilion wasn’t filled with campers. It almost felt weird how normal it felt sitting at a table other than the one designated for Hunters of Artemis. You had planned to sit quietly as Clarisse and Silena talked but Silena kept including you in the conversation until the three of you eased into a discussion, both of them asking about your travels with your goddess, the adventures you’d been on, and all the monsters you’ve slayed.

Taglist: @cxcilla

[evervigilantnightshade]

The Line - Part One

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions. Father of reader's death mentioned. It will get pretty angsty for a bit.

Authors note: I used to write on Tumblr in a different fandom for a long time and then left. Now I'm back under a different name and I hope you like what I have to say.

MASTERLIST

Y/N couldn’t remember a point in her life that wasn’t geared towards being in the military. It ran in her family, going back generations. Her father was one of the most famous marksmen spoken amongst anyone in service. He was made for combat and dreamed of having a son to follow in his footsteps. 

When his first child was born he held his wife’s hand and admired her strength as she delivered their addition to their family. The first moment he looked into Y/N’s eyes he fell madly in love, no longer caring about succession. All he wanted was happy, healthy children. He was then gifted with 4 more girls. 

As she grew up though Y/N showed vast interest in what her father did. Always asking questions, begging him to teach her how to shoot a gun. She kept herself in shape and made sure to do well in school. 

When she turned 15 she told her father she wanted to join the military when she turned 18. He sat for a while saying nothing and she started to feel a bit anxious. 

“Y/N sweetheart can I ask you why you want to join?” He finally spoke

She paused to think about her answer, wanting to convey exactly how she felt.

“It feels right. I want to do something with my life that matters, I want to feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself. I see the camaraderie you have with the men in your unit and I want that too. It’s in my blood dad, just like it’s in yours.” 

“You do understand that as a female it will be a long hard journey for you?” 

“If I work hard enough though and I’m a good soldier it shouldn’t matter though right?” 

“Oh sweetheart I wish for you that was true. However, almost all the time all they will see is that you're a girl and deem you less than themselves.” 

“Well I’ll just have to prove them wrong. And besides I won’t be doing it for them.” She said with determination in her voice. 

He sat for a bit longer and then reached over and put his hand on hers. 

“Whatever you need I’ll be there.” He said with a smile. 

“I want to do this on my own though.” She explained. “Not saying I don’t want you to be there for me. I just don’t want to rely on your reputation and the family name. I want to prove to myself and to you that I can do this.”

Her dad understood but was still worried for his daughter. 

She joined up at 18 just like she said she would and despite her determination her father had been right. It was hard for her, and there were times when all she wanted to was give up but that wasn’t in her. So she fought harder, trained longer and pushed herself to limits she didn’t even know she had. She was top of all her classes and was the best shooter on base. 

In fact she was so good that she was asked to join a special program in the UK for top marksmen. Again she pushed herself to the limit but it paid off. Her reputation sored and eventually she was recruited by Captain Price to join his team. The 141 became her brothers in arms and the family she always admired her father for. 

The last time she saw her dad he told her how proud he was of her. She did what she set out to do, all on her own skill and determination. He now felt that the part of him that wanted a successor was fulfilled in ways he could only have dreamed of. 

He died of a heart attack 6 months later and it destroyed Y/N.

Now a year later, Y/N was laying in the mud high above the target zone, the ever vigilant sniper. Ghost was positioned opposite her, giving them both a complete view of any threats that may arise and compromise the mission. 

This year had been rough for the 141. They had been chasing the same target that seemed to elude them no matter what they did. The target was a man named Bako, a once low-level member of a drug empire now turned kingpin. Using violence and betrayal he has taken out anyone or anything that has been in his way. He has plagued the team for far too long and has become an increasingly dangerous threat. 

After all the escapes, near misses and wrong information the team finally got confirmation that he would be here, at this warehouse, meeting with his high-level partners. The plan was to bring the building down on top of them all, ending this once and for all. 

Soap, Gaz and Captain Price were currently approaching the target area quietly in a small boat. Y/N watched through her scope as the three men climbed out of the boat and made their way quietly across a small patch of grass that separated the water from the warehouse. The first thing she noticed is that Price had switched out his usual bucket hat for a baseball cap. Y/N’s core clenched, remembering a deal they had made a few months back.

They had been on a hard mission that had kept them away from the base for three months. After they all had showered, slept, and decompressed Soap was convinced they all needed a good old fashion BBQ to let off some steam. Kate agreed so her wife and her decided to host at their place.

Ghost and Soap were sitting at the picnic table while Y/N sat on a chair in the sun, wearing a pair of shorts and a v neck white t-shirt, trying to get some colour on her unusually pale legs. Beside her Gaz was going on about a girl he had invited that he was excited about. Granted he had only spent one drunken night with her before their last deployment. 

“She’s smoking hot Y/N, and smart.” 

Y/N glanced up over at him, shielding her eyes from the sun despite wearing sunglasses. 

“And you're sure about this one? Cause the last girl you were seeing went a bit crazy when you had to leave on missions. She called the Mexican embassy trying to find you. We weren’t even in Mexico.” Y/N reminded him

“Or what about the girl who was convinced you were sleeping with Bells and then tried to pull her hair out at the bar?” Soap chimed in and Y/N reached up and rubbed the side of her head.

“Took me by surprise. She was lucky I wasn’t armed.” 

“Yeah or that one…” Ghost started but Kyle interrupted him. 

“This one is different. I have a good feeling about her.” He smiled at them and Y/N felt a bit bad for him. 

“I’m sure she’s lovely Gaz.” 

He nodded at her looking proud. She chuckled thinking about the ways Ghost would intimidate her without even trying. 

“Ahhh good times” she mumbled and was about to take a swig of her beer when she froze the bottle half way to her lips. 

Price had just walked in wearing form fitting jeans, a slightly tight, black shirt and an army green baseball hat. He looked fucking amazing. Y/N bit her bottom lip and shook her head. 

Beside her Gaz waved his hand in front of her face and she looked up to see him, Ghost and Soap all looking at her, grinning.

“You ok there Bells?” Ghost grunted smugly.

“Fuck off” Y/N said with a grin despite being slightly embarrassed at getting caught drooling over their Captain. “And in this moment, if you're going to use my call sign, use the whole thing, dickhead.”

“Apologies Belladonna” Ghost said and then raised his beer which Y/N reciprocated. 

She took a long sip of her beer to wash down the heat that was creeping up her neck as well as creeping downwards. 

After putting his beer in the cooler, Price grabbed one and headed over to the group and nodded at them hello. Everyone either nodded back or mumbled a hello. 

“You four are unusually quiet.” Price said reaching over and using the picnic table to pop the cap off his beer. 

“We were just asking Bells…” Soap started but Y/N interrupted. 

“We were actually just talking about the new girl Gaz invited to the BBQ.” 

“You invited a girl here?” Price said and then chuckled. “Is this one, mentally stable at least?” 

Y/N got up, deciding to grab another beer, making a point to walk by Soap and smack him on the back of the head causing Ghost’s shoulders to shake while he silently chuckled. 

Price glanced over at Y/N while Gaz started telling him about his new girl. 

He almost fully turned around to watch as she bent over to grab her beer out of the cooler but then stopped himself. 

“Damn those are some dangerous shorts” He thought to himself and felt his jeans becoming a little tighter. 

He turned back at Gaz who was just staring at him. 

“Jesus Christ, the two of you.” Gaz shook his head and then walked over to talk to Kate. 

Price went over and sat at the picnic table. 

“What’s he on about now?” Price asked and Soap and Ghost exchanged glances. 

“No clue sir.” Ghost said, not wanting to be the one to point out the obvious.

The conversation naturally flowed then into football and the comment was forgotten. About an hour that consisted of chit chat and laughs, Kyle’s new girl showed up with a friend. 

Immediately Y/N got a bad feeling about them. 

Nancy was perfectly manicured, with her makeup and hair done up a bit much for a backyard BBQ. She had on a pair of white capris with a blue sleeveless blouse and wedges. Her friend looked like a copy and paste version of her. 

“Hey everyone,” Gaz announced to the group. “This is Nancy and her friend Becca.” 

For an awkward moment, no one said anything or made a move to introduce themselves to the girls. It was Kate that broke the silence and walked over. 

“Nice to meet you two. I’m Kate. Kyle has told us all so much about you Nancy.” 

“Awe he’s just the best isn’t he?” Nancy said, grabbing on to Gaz’s arm. 

“We certainly think so.” Kate said with a forced smile. “Do you girls want a drink? We have beer in the cooler.” She gestured over to the cooler on the deck. 

“Oh we don’t actually drink beer.” Becca said with her nose scrunched up. 

“Yeah we are wine girlies.” Nancy said in a playful tone.

“Um ok, yeah we have some wine in the house. Do you prefer white or red?” Kate asked. 

“Definitely white.” Nancy said looking over at Becca who nodded. “Yeah we’ll take white.” 

Beside Y/N she heard Ghost mumble “Gods give me strength.” Which caused her to smile. 

She then looked over at Price who was looking at her with a grin on his face and she grinned back. 

“You better go introduce yourself Cap. You are the leader of the team after all.” Y/N teased and he cocked his head at her with an amused look on his face. 

“Only if you come with me.” He retorted and Y/N laughed 

“You’d have a better chance of convincing Ghost to join you.” 

“Don’t even ask sir.” Ghost said, getting up and walking in the opposite direction of the girls just to be sure.

“Go on then.” Y/N sighed and stood up motioning at the girls.

Price stood up and then smacked Soap lightly on the shoulder. 

“You too Soap.”

He groaned but stood up reluctantly.  

“Play nice you two.” He warned and they made their way over to where they were standing.

Gaz’s face lit up seeing them approach.

“Nancy, this is my Captain.” He said proudly. 

Price smiled back and then extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh Captain! That’s a fancy title.” Nancy said and then placed her hand in Price’s facing downward as if expecting him to kiss the back of her hand.

Instead he awkwardly shook her hand while holding on to the ends of her fingers.

“Call me John.” 

“And this is Johnny and Y/N.” Gaz said motioning to where her and Soap were standing.

Nancy looked over at them and then stuck her hand out the same way to Soap, while completely ignoring Y/N

“So many handsome men on your team.” Nancy said while looking over at Becca who was shaking Price’s hand.

“I agree.” Becca said with a smile. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and then turned around without saying a word, walking over to Ghost.

“How was that?” He asked and she just knew he was grinning under his black surgical mask.

“When Gaz makes his way over to you for introductions, and he will, do me a favour and scare them enough so they leave yeah?” 

Ghost chuckled beside her.

“You a bit jealous there Bells?” 

Y/N looked over at Becca who was currently squeezing Soap's bicep.She watched as Price took a slight step back to avoid the same treatment. 

“Got no reason to be.” She said with a satisfied smirk. 

“Because you’re pretty confident those girls aren’t Price’s cup of tea?” 

“Why would that matter to me? He’s a single man who is extremely good looking, and has a nice… everything.” She let out a sign at the last word causing Ghost to audibly laugh. 

“Oh love you got it bad.” But then his voice turned serious.  “Hope you know what you’re doing.” He said cautiously. 

“What does that mean?” She said a slight frown forming on her face.

“Just don’t want ya to get hurt is all.” He said with a shrug.

She took a second to swallow the lump in her throat and then plastered on a fake smile.

“Hey you know what I always say. Can't get hurt if you don’t catch feelings.”

“So it’s purely physical then?” He asked, turning now to face her.

“Of course.” She replied but they both knew she was lying. 

“Y/N…” he started but he was interrupted by Gaz calling out to him.

“Well, it looks like it’s your turn.” she said relieved as she slowly turned and started making her way over to Kate. 

“Don’t you fucking leave me.” Ghost hissed 

“Sorry I think Kate’s calling me, I think she needs help with the grill.” Y/N called over her shoulder and then laughed. 

“You know there are people out there who are scared of me.” He called out after her

“And I’m not one of them!” She called back.

Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye as Nancy and Becca were introduced to Ghost and he made no movement to reach out and take their limp hands. 

When they started grilling him about his surgical mask he stayed silent but when Becca reached over and squeezed his arm, telling how beautiful his eyes were, it was his breaking point and he turned and walked away without a word. Y/N heard Gaz say something about Ghost being shy and Becca giggled.

“I guess we’ll just have to break him out of his shell.” She said in a high pitched voice.

“Ok food is ready!” Kate called out 

Y/N was disappointed because she really wanted to see Becca try. 

They all sat down and ate the amazing food, constantly complimenting Kate and her wife saying it was one of the best meals they had had in a long time. 

After eating everyone was lounging around patting their full bellies. Price was sitting behind Y/N in one of the chairs smoking a cigar and talking to Kate. 

Becca and Nancy approached Y/N who was currently tidying up the picnic table. 

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding us.” Nancy said slurring slightly while pointing her finger at Y/N 

“Have I?” Y/N said, mocking her playful tone.

“You have, but that’s ok. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends eventually. Now we wanted to ask which one of these guys do you belong to?” 

Behind them Price and Kate halted their conversation to pay attention to what was happening now in front of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Y/N answered with gritted teeth.

“Oh don’t be like that, you know what I mean. Which one is yours? We don’t want to be stepping on any toes here. We’re trying to find a match for Becca.” 

“I figured that much.” Y/N replied tensely.

“Yeah, being a soldier's wife would be so cool! And like they’re never home but you get all this respect for serving your country. How great is that?!” 

Y/N was about to tear into her but she felt a hand grab hers. 

“Watch it love. We wouldn’t want to ruin Laswell’s lovely BBQ would we?” Price whispered in her ear and closed her eyes, suddenly very aware of how close he was. 

She clenched her jaw when he let go of her hand and went back over towards Laswell, but remained within grabbing distance. 

“Oh perfect, you’re with the old man! He wasn’t even on our list of candidates!” Nancy said excitedly. 

“Not on your list?” Y/N said, her voice slightly raised “He should be on the top of that list!” 

“I mean we totally get it, for you he is but he’s just like not our type.” Nancy replied and Becca nodded.

“Oh but he’s a Captain! You must have amazing benefits! Especially like that death one.” Becca started and Y/N lunged. 

Before she could reach the girls though an arm wrapped around her waist and picked her up dragging her towards the house. Behind her she could hear Nancy and Becca still talking.

“What’s her deal?” 

“No clue, let’s go talk to that scary one again. I bet he’s hot under that mask.” 

She was struggling to get back out to the yard when Price finally put her down in the kitchen. 

“Let me go back out there. I promise not to kill them.” Y/N said while pacing the kitchen, Price was now blocking her only way out. “Just maim them a bit.”

“Hmmm” Price grunted, standing with his arms crossed in that way that Y/N loved. His fingers tucked under his arms, his thumbs pointed up and his hips jutting out. But she didn’t notice, she was too mad. 

“Death benefits! Death benefits. She’s talking about fucking death benefits like it’s the lottery.” Y/N went off still pacing. “They’re just out there looking to sucker one of you into marrying them so they can get your fucking benefits.” 

“Not me.” Price said amused. “I’m not on their list” 

“Yeah that’s another thing, not on their list. How can they look at you and not want you?” 

“Well,” Price said,walking over to Y/N and standing in front of her causing her to stop pacing. “I’m on your list and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Y/N blushed and then smiled slyly.

“And am I on yours?” 

He started slowly walking towards her and she was taking small steps backwards until she was against the kitchen sink. He leaned over and put his left hand on the counter beside her. 

“You are the whole list.” he said quietly and then grabbed the bottom hem of her shorts, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her thigh. “Especially in these.” 

Y/N felt her skin tingle and heat up but also felt a nervousness in her chest. They had never been this close to stepping over the line that separated play and real. Ghost’s words echoed in her mind “Don’t want you to get hurt.” A slight frown formed on her lips and immediately Price started to back up. 

“Sorry, that was too…”  He started but Y/N grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He looked down at her lips and then further down before looking back into her eyes. 

“Are you sure this is what  you want? Because we have been playing this game for quite a while and once we cross that line I don’t think I could ever go back.” 

He moved his knee in between her legs and she let out a soft moan as she rocked her hips forward against it. 

“Does that answer your question?” She asked, flattening her hand on his chest and slowly moving it downward. 

“God woman.” He hissed and was about to slam his lips down onto hers when they heard Gaz calling out his name. 

“Fuck.” Y/N cried out and slipped out from in front of Price who moved forward, pretending to be doing dishes. 

Gaz walked into the kitchen and looked at the two of them confused. 

“What’s going on?” He asked looking over at Price who wouldn’t turn around. 

“Nothing, we’re not doing anything?” Y/N replied quickly 

“Dishes” Price added behind her. 

“Yeah dishes. We’re doing dishes.” She then picked up a dish towel to sell the story. 

“Ok… well Nancy came up to me and said that you were acting weird and looked like you were mad at her.” 

“Right, that.” Y/N sighed, relaxing slightly. “Gaz I want you to look at me and listen to what I’m saying alright? Hard no on Nancy.”

“What? But..” He sputtered but Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Gaz she was talking about death benefits and how you’ll never be around. She may be nice looking on the outside but on the inside she is ugly.” 

Gaz sighed and then looked out towards the backyard. 

“Could I just enjoy the outside for a bit before I send her packing?” 

“NO!”  Y/N and Price said in unison. 

“Fine. I’ll get her out of here.” His head fell and he made his way back outside. 

Price stepped away from the sink and Y/N handed him the dish towel to dry his hands. She stood still facing away from him, her hands on her hips with her head down. 

“We should get back out there.” She sighed and then looked up at the ceiling. 

Behind her even though she couldn’t see him, Price nodded. 

They were silent for a moment and Y/N felt his hand rest lightly on her hips and leaned over to whisper in her ear. 

“Wear those shorts again for me sometime?” 

“John,” She said quietly and he pushed his hips into her with a moan, hearing her say his name. “You wear that hat again and you’ll see me in a lot less.” 

He groaned and nipped at her ear. They stood there for a minute and then John reluctantly let her go. 

“Ok we really need to go out back.” She said turning around to see John trying to adjust himself. 

“You go, I'm going to need a few minutes here.” 

After that they got busy at work with missions, training, paperwork and stakeouts that took over their lives and they hadn’t had a chance to be alone once. John went back into Captain mode and it was starting to feel like the BBQ was just a fever dream Y/N had. She spent many nights thinking about that moment and what could have come next. It was driving her to the point of insanity.  

But now, seeing John in that hat, she knew that he was suffering just as much as she was. 

“I guess a deal is a deal, Cap.” Y/N said into the coms quietly. 

Price looked up at her direction, smirked, nodded and gave her a quick wink causing her core to clench.

“Eyes on the prize here folks.” Ghost said in the coms. ”I want to get this over and done with.” 

“Roger that.” The rest of the team replied. 

-------------------------------------------------

Alright let me know what you think. I live off feedback. Should I continue? This is my first fic up so I’m going to need a little encouragement to start posting again.

[audiovideodisco]

I’m sorry I always said the wrong thing.

You have a crush on your Aussie colleague, but have given up on ever being his type, or even someone he respects. People never change, right?

cw: fatphobia, medical talk, negative self image if you squint, mildly suggestive, swearing

word count: 920

requested: no

sfw: yes

ship: robert chase x reader

characteristics: plus sized reader, g/n

You walk into Princeton Plainsboro with a coffee in hand and a face like a slapped bottom. Your patient was a fairly overweight teenager who had a heart problem, but despite the team - unsurprisingly - attempting to attribute the problems to their weight, that wasn’t the case. As a plus sized person, you felt sick coming into work for this case. House was making a point of asking you things that you couldn’t know about the patient - just because you’re fat… and Chase… well, that was the main thing. You knew how he felt about fat people, it was always a personal flaw. He hadn’t said anything awful yet but it reminded you that you’d never be good enough for him.

The case carried on as usual, treatments putting the young teens life in danger over and over, with no hope of a diagnosis, and then cure, in sight. The DDx office was eerily quiet, only the lights in the hall illuminating the table in front of you as you sat at the desk trying to think. After a few minutes of what felt like brooding rather than thinking, you hear footsteps, and then a swoosh of blonde hair enters the office.

“[Y/N]? What are you in here for? Why are you sitting in the dark…?” Chase asked as he came in to rifle through a drawer.

“It’s not dark, the hall light is enough.”

“That’s- are you… are you alright?”

Your head snaps up to see he’s stopped rifling through the drawer and appears to have what he came to look for. Instead of leaving, he’s looking directly at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. Quite frankly, it pisses you off, big time.

“I’m fine, Chase. Trying to think of what’s killing our patient, before they actually die because everyone else is so focused on their weight rather than-“

“Hey- woah- woah-“

You don’t let him continue his protest, taking a breath and composing yourself,

“House wants you to do an EKG.”

“He said that-?”

“Yeah.” He looked at you with his mouth agape for a second, before closing it, nodding and walking out.

The case continues, and eventually House is able to make a connection that saves the teenager’s life. It’s a relief that the case is over, and the teenager is going to be alright, but you can’t shake the horrible feeling in your stomach. The DDx office is empty again, so you go in there just to sort through your paperwork before going home.

“Hey…”

“What the fuck do you want, Chase?”

“Woah… have I done something?”

“Doesn’t matter, just leave me alone.”

He frowns but doesn’t leave, instead coming up behind you slowly and placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You flinch a little so he lifts his hand again, but when you don’t push him away, he puts it back again.

“What’s going on…?” He asks, almost in a whisper.

“Chase-“

“Was it this case? House?”

“I expect it from House, and you to be completely honest…”

He mentally scolds himself and sighs, trying gently guiding you to face him.

“I… I have said so shitty things before, I’ll admit… I didn’t know you knew…”

“What, so it’s okay as long as your one fat friend doesn’t hear it? Well that worked…”

“No- no- I… I was wrong. I’ve been wrong every time, whether just about the diagnosis, or the simple fact of that is none of my business… I’ve been trying to unlearn thinking and speaking like that- I-“

You stare at him a little shocked, his hand still on your shoulder as you now stand only a few inches apart. He looks down slightly at you, seeing the way your eyes glistened from angry tears that threatened to spill. He carries on speaking, his voice now even more hushed and soft,

“Not that I decided that I needed to sort my shit out because I met you- Uh, but… I… I really like you, actually.”

His heart pounds in his chest almost as loudly as yours as he searches your face for any sign of a response.

“I know I probably blew it, but… can I take you out, on, like, a date?”

“Are you serious, or is this-“

“I mean it. You’re…” Your faces are centimetres apart, his breath fanning against your lips as he struggles to finish his sentence, and his other hand finds its way to your waist to pull you closer.

“[Y/N]… I need you to tell me it’s okay to kiss you… I don’t want to cross a line you don’t want me to cross…”

Your chest heaves as you whisper,

“…yes.”

The kiss is tentative at first, Chase’s lips moving slowly to make sure you wanted this as much as he did. As you began to reciprocate with a bit more energy, he picked up the pace, bringing his hand from your shoulder to the nape of your neck, and pulling you as close to him as you could be-

“HEY!”

The loud shout makes you both pull apart, hands still on eachother, his hand threaded in your hair and yours in his chest. You look around you as you both try to catch you breaths, cringing when you lay your eyes on House.

“IF YOU WANT TO MAKE OUT, GET OUT OF MY OFFICE. ALSO- FUCK YOU. I OWE WILSON $50 NOW…”

House storms off, his cane tapping alongside his footsteps, and you both giggle as the tension fades.