#are you the same person from the other day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojonanami · 1 day

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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR HOT COWORKER WANTS TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD, OF COURSE YOU'LL SAY YES !! ❞

✧ pairing: vampire! choso kamo x f!reader

✧ summary: choso kamo is your coworker who seems to hate your guts - even though you're both always stuck working together, but the only reason he does is because he wants nothing more than to eat you up -- blood and all.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, coworkers to lovers, vampire!choso, vampire bites are an aphrodisiac for both the vampire and the victim, no real dub/con b/c these two are already down bad for the other, mutual pining, scent kink, blood kink, blood sucking from neck / wrist, implied masturbation (m!), oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart by @ / yume041624

✧ wc: 7,193

It wasn’t as if you weren’t sure your coworker hates you—

You were sure of it.

He avoided you like the plague whenever the two of you were working on the same project. He always did his best to reply over email, avoid in person meetings, and he always seemed to get sick whenever the two of you had to greet the client together. But you didn’t know why — you hadn’t done anything to offend him, unless he had mistaken your hello for spitting in his face. And that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was that he was exactly your type — fucking hot.

Dark locks tied into a bun with a few strands escaped its binding by the end of the day, his neat nails painted a dark purple that rifled through paperwork, his pretty lips pursed in concentration, and lovely, deep eyes that barely had stolen a glance at you but you could spend a millennia exploring—

In summary, you had it bad.

And he didn’t seem to know — or worse, he knew and he hated it. Or you.

But maybe something could change today, you flicked a pen up and down between two fingers as you stole a glance at him across the now empty office, the two of you were stuck working overtime on this project for two days now. But he still had managed to avoid you — but not today when you were stuck in the same conference room sorting through boxes of files that your client insisted must be done today.

You were getting some sleep at a hotel across the street, taking a quick nap and shower before returning, but Choso looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And you didn’t know why.

You glanced up at him between sorting through boxes, and you saw him adjust his collar, loosening his tie, fabric gripped tightly under white knuckles. His head was hunched over, his expression hidden behind the box in front of him, but you saw a hint of red in his eyes. You bit your lip, now you were worried.

Maybe for the wrong reasons.

“Choso, are you okay?”

No, no, he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay after working overtime for two days straight. He wasn’t okay being stuck in this tiny, dimly fluorescent lit conference room reviewing files that would only prove fruitless and a waste of time for all parties, and what made it worse was you—

No, not you, his canines grew, sharp fangs digging into the soft flesh of his bottom lips,

Blood.

Your blood.

The very thing running through your veins and arteries, pumping through every crevice of your body through your heart — crimson stained your insides as it would your skin if pierced or cut — and it was the very thing that Choso wanted more than anything else.

But no, it couldn’t be anyone else’s — he bit his bottom lip as you stretched, your blouse and hair moving ever so slightly and exposing your neck — it had to be yours.

He pressed his hand against his face, palm covering the bottom half of his face as he forced himself to avert his gaze from you, all too unaware of his thirst — the very same that pulled his muscles taut and made his mouth water at the thought of you. His face was flushed — that much was for sure, as he felt the heat radiate from his face.

And he knew one thing for sure — that you were the one who’s blood would taste like the divine personified. But that’s why he had worked so hard to avoid you, to make sure he didn’t spend any time alone with you, lest his logic and sense fail him at once and he ends up with his fangs pressed to the nape of your neck at once.

No, he had decided he couldn’t do that. There were far too many times he had seen other vampires find partners this way — succumb to the urge — the draw of bloodlust — only for their partner to grow addicted to the pleasure that comes from the bite, and the relationship only fell apart when it was the only thing holding the relationship together. The bite could only do so much, it was an aphrodisiac for both parties, but not a miracle worker — chemistry burns bright and fast, but it could not make love exist if it wasn’t there to begin with.

And his avoidance of you had made any relationship between the two of you hard to happen — especially when every word you spoke sounded sweet and honeyed from those pretty lips. It didn’t help that he was reserved to begin with, but you made all words fall from his mind with only a glance — so what would a conversation do to him — much less a kiss?

“Choso, have you reviewed this one yet?” You ask, grabbing a box from his side, “I finished my half so I thought I’d help you finish yours,”

He shakes his head, “Go ahead. Thank you,” he barely manages through nearly gritted teeth, with barely a glance up — fuck, it didn’t help that you were always so kind, good at your job, and so pretty—

Fuck, the document he held crumpled under his tight grip, he shouldn’t have let it get this bad. Why had he let it get this bad? A few overtime shifts weren’t usually a problem for him — but being stuck with you? It was torture in the highest order — especially since he hadn’t been able to get home to his reserves at home and he had just run dry of the bottles he kept on himself this morning.

He sees you stretch again, this time your neck, and a heat began to creep on as he watched right over the top of the document he read.

Oh, he was so fucked.

You were going to ask him.

You were going to confront him about why he avoids you. You had made up your mind — you were tired of walking on eggshells without a reason. If you were going to be stuck working with him on future projects, especially with this client, he needed to tell you if this was how it was going to be.

And yet, you still sat, rereading the same document over and over, as the two of you were almost done wrapping up your work for the night. Choso was placing the last box he finished up away, a sigh stuck in his throat as he got to his feet.

“I’m going to head home,” he gets to his feet, a sigh on his lips, as he rakes his fingers through his black locks, “do you need help cleaning up?”

“No, I’m fine,” and he’s grabbing his things, as you bite your lip and stare at the shiny laminate of the conference table in front of you — fuck it, “I did have a question,” as he’s walking by in the doorway of the conference room, as your scramble to your feet, reaching for him, your fingers brushing his shoulder by mistake, and he’s tensing, “sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“It’s fine, what’s your question?” His reply is curt but he won’t even turn to face you, his fingers fiddling with the watch on his wrist. You furrow your brow, was it you or was his body shaking?

“I just wanted to ask you if you had some sort of problem—“ and then his bag clattered against the floor, contents spilling out, as he supported himself against the door frame, slumped against it, as his fingers gripped it.

You gasped, a quick brush of your fingers to his shoulder again, “Are you ok? Choso?”

Choso’s head swam — he could barely hear anything — every sound drawn out and garbled, as if he had plunged his head underwater and words were echoing in his ears. He felt his knees buckle under his weight — and he can’t think straight — and for a moment of clarity he realizes why—

Your touch — it was a spark amongst a field of wheat in a dry heat — and it was enough to set his entire body alight. And now—as he barely held himself together, muscles tensed and eyes fluttering — a haze of heat blazing ribbons up his body, and down — right to his cock.

Fuck. He’s swallowing, his muscles taut, as he tugs at his collar, even the brush of his clothes against his skin enough to drive him to the point of insanity. And it doesn’t help that your scent fills his nose, honeyed and cloying and he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing the scarlet gaze would do nothing but elicit a scream.

“Please leave,” he says through gritted teeth, he can imagine the concern written across your expression, “go—“

“I’m not leaving you like this alone,” fuck, you only draw closer, the brush of your fingers against his shoulder enough to have him nearly keening for your touch — he’d nearly do anything you want for one touch, one drop of your blood, but he can’t — he can’t, “do you need water? What do you need?” And you’re helping him sit down on the floor of the conference room, as he clutches his bag to his front, desperate for something put between the two of you.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I needed, just go,” he’s pleading, head falling back against the wall — his mind is hazy, he can barely think about anything else but you — the way your soft lips are pursed in worry, the way your hands are so gentle against his skin and would feel so good gliding across his body, the way when he saw the multitudes contained within your eyes, but he only wanted to live in the warmth of your loving gaze, “I don’t want to hurt you,”

The words come as a confession, a last plea for you to leave, but you seemingly only chuckle, furrowing your brow, “how could you hurt me when you’re more terrified than I am?”

And oh you were so ignorant that you were inches away from a monster — a rabbit in a lion’s den, while you thought of him as a sheep — and his words weren’t enough to convince you, but maybe something else would.

His eyes flutter open to find your own, and he finds his own reflection in your irises — a blood red reflected back in your lovely gaze, as your mouth falls open, brow wrinkled, and breath caught.

“I-I-what?” and he sees your confusion written across your face, your fingers shaking as they brush against his cheek. Your touch sets his senses alight, a soft groan as he leans into your hand, his nose brushes against your wrist, and the thrum of your pulse ringing in his ears. His gaze finds yours — half moonshine with how it’s glazed over, “how?”

And his lips part, when your thumb drags down his cheek, hypnotized and entranced under a spell he didn’t mean to cast. He turns his head so your fingers catch on his lips, parting almost obediently, flashing fangs that has a flicker of confusion swallowed by horror and then consumed by fascination completely.

“Choso, what is—“

“You should go,” he murmurs again, “you can’t give me what you need,”

And you’re speechless, as if you wonder if you’re seeing what you are — but the longer you stare, the quicker it seems to sink in. You swallow.

“So you need my—“ and the sentence is cut off seemingly by the absurdity of the situation, as you mutter to yourself, “this can’t be fucking real,”

“It doesn’t have to be, you can leave right now,” he pants, sweat slipping down his forehead, and you’re still frowning.

“What will happen to you if I leave?” And he can’t think straight enough to lie, your fingers find his neck, to check his temperature but all it does is drive it higher.

“Nothing you need to worry about—“

“Well, I am worried,” you cut him off, squirming in place, “if you just take some of my blood, will that—“

“It’s not just that,” he’s shaking his head, fangs nearly grazing his bottom lip as he sighs, “do you know what your blood will do to me?” His eyes seem to flash, a chill down your spine, “but more importantly worry what it will do to you,”

And you stiffen, the spell waxing and waning as fickle as the moon never was, and that the thing about humans — you could never count on them to be consistent as all other things were. A beast can be predicted — their moves largely the same, caution put before hurt, but man gained consciousness and lost all reliability.

And you were no beast, not like him.

“What would…it do?” Your words are hesitant, carefully chosen, small jumps across stones rather than a leap across a rushing river.

And he lets the raging white water brush against your skin when his hand cups your chin, leaning closer and letting his breath warm your skin, “To reduce the pain, my bite is like an aphrodisiac,” his thumb rubs back and forth across your cheek, “you won’t be able to stop yourself, and since your blood would do the same to me — I wouldn’t be able to help myself either,” his nose brushes against your cheek, as he leans in to whisper in your ear, “you should go.”

But you don’t, silence settles over the two of you, until you choose to break it, “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

That’s what you had said — but how did that land you here?

You both walked to your hotel room in silence, his flushed face hidden behind a mask, dead on his feet as he trailed behind you to the room. It was lucky you had a room right across the street from your workplace. You didn’t know what you would have done if you had to stay in the office — the blood would have been hell to scrub off the wood.

And now here you sat after your shower, hair still damp as you toyed with the edge of your fluffy bathrobe, as you chewed on your lip. What had you gotten yourself into? You listened to his shower run, a sigh on your lips — it was fine. It would be fine. You just stick to the plan. You’d let him drink your blood, and he would lock himself in the bathroom — and you both would ride out your…symptoms alone.

Fuck, you bury your face in your hands, what the hell are you doing? And that’s when the water stops — the quiet rustle and shuffling of himself in the bathroom makes your heart leap into your throat, as you sit looking down at the floor.

“Are you okay?” his voice makes you jump even as you expect it, as your head snaps back to look at him. His black hair still wet from his shoulder, long locks clinging to his hair, droplets ran down his bare abs, your eyes following one down right to his happy trail only hidden away by his boxers—

Fuck.

He only continues to towel himself off, before grabbing his undershirt to pull it over his torso, as you choose to avert your eyes then — as if him getting dressed was any more scandalous than his shirtless state, “I am, I’m just a little—“

“You don’t have to,” and your eyes slide back to him, his face was still significantly ragged, dark bags and fatigue clung to body worse than the water did — looking more like a corpse than a bloodsucker, “it’s not too late for you to leave—“

“No I decided I was going to help, so I’m going to,” you say, and his brow forms the same peaks and valleys he had all day — and you were sure his skin would remember the carvings at this rate, “what?”

“Why do you want to help me?” he mumbles, arms crossed, a distinct flush in his cheeks settling that surely wasn’t just from his shower, “I don’t get it, we barely have spoken—“

“We have spoken, our first week,” and his eyes snap to yours, “you may not remember, but you helped me,” and your cheeks burned, squirming in place as you couldn’t quite meet his gaze, “I had messed up on a project, I made a huge mistake on a document, one that could have costed the company a lot of money, and my job,” you murmur, “but you also took responsibility, even though it wasn’t your fault,”

“I didn’t catch the mistake either, so it was my fault too—“ and you shake your head.

“It was mostly mine still,” you offer a small smile, “and so if I can help you like this, I want to,” you shift, swallowing as an awkward silence falls over you both that you break, “why did you want to shower first anyway? You were ready to pass out earlier,”

“I still am,” he admits, and you notice the subtle shake of his hands, “but I figured the shower would make us both feel a little more comfortable, and it helped to…calm me down,” he cleared his throat, and it slowly dawned on you, cheeks burning, “again, are you sure—“

“I’m going to close you off in the bathroom, and we should be able to ride it out — you said you don’t lose control of yourself or become violent,” and he shakes his head, “then it should be fine,” you have him draw closer, his soft steps against the plush carpet fell silent as he sat beside you on the bed. The creak of the bed as he sat on the other side a little awkwardly, “you should be closer,” and he’s nodding, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“I know, I’m just trying to…prepare,” he gives a shaky sigh, “your scent is—“ he scrubs a hand down his face, “it’s hard for me to be around, especially when we’re so close,”

“My scent?” And his hand covers the bottom half of his face, turned away, as he murmurs.

“Your scent is particularly strong — it’s…enticing enough for me to be distracted all day if I don't keep my distance,” and the pieces sink into place.

“You avoided me at work because of that?” And he nods, as you bite your lip, a small chuckle on your lips, “I thought you hated me,”

And his head snaps to you, blinking, “I don’t hate you far from it—“ he cuts himself off, his fingers grip the edge of the bed, “I’ve seen you in the office — you’re always so considerate, kind, and you always try to help, even people who don’t deserve it—“ he cuts off, “I don’t want to take advantage of your—“

You move closer, his breath hitching as you shrug your robe off your shoulders, leaving only your bra covering your chest, “You do deserve it,” Fuck, he was so close — you could feel the need come off of him in waves, the soft pants of his breath as his eyes fluttered. And you offer your neck to him, brushing your hair away — a silent offer.

You see him bite his lip out of your periphery, but he’s leaning down, warm breath fans across your skin, as he ran a finger down your neck, “Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice a raspy whisper, “you smell so good,” and you nearly shiver as his lips brush your skin — soft lips against your skin, the barest brush, as if he’s trying to acclimate you to his touch. But it only stoked a fire — the same flame burning even before today, the one that wanted more than a bite at the apple — you wanted him down to his core.

His lips press another kiss to your neck, lingering longer, as he noses the skin there, and you’re biting your lip, the want bubbling into boiling need, “Please—“ you gasp as his fangs graze your neck now, the sharp points lightly dragging across the muscle, right before his fangs sink into your neck.

Your lips part, head nearly lolling back into his warm palm cupping the nape of your neck. Any pain only registers for a split second before disappearing under whitehot pleasure. Your blood turns to heady wine straight from his bite, his muffled moan vibrates against you, sending a wave of heat right between your thighs. Your head spins, all logic melts with as the wildfire only consumes — leaving only want behind.

Coherent thoughts don’t form — instead fractured thoughts spiral into a chant. You want more. You want more of his touch, his body, his words. You want him.

You want him.

And when he’s pulling his fangs from your neck, the sound of his teeth pulled from your skin only rings in your ears for a moment, before blood roaring in your ears replaces it. Burning — it felt as if every part of your body was aching, a deep throbbing with no end in sight. You glance at Choso — and only one cure.

Fuck, his skin looks so lovely when flushed a pretty pink — nearly a scarlet that lit a trail up his neck and across his cheekbones all the way to his ears. The heavy pants that left his lips did little to assuage the desire for him — his defined chest rising and falling with each breath he took, his long jet black locks hanging like a curtain around his gaze.

Your fingers are reaching for him, “Cho—“ and he’s shaking his head, as his muscles tense, as he leans away from you.

“Give me a moment,” so you do — you pull back, and he’s rising to his feet, shaky still, but seemingly for a different reason as he turns and flashes the rising tent in his boxers.

And you press your thighs together, wondering just how big he was — eyes fixed on the growing damp spot on his boxers — how he would shiver when you squee3/ him at the base in your hand, what sounds he would make when you’d flick your tongue against his weeping tip, and how he would moan your name when he sunk into you—

You were so fucked — if your drenched panties were anything to judge by.

“Choso, please—“ and he already knows what you’re asking for between the lines of your plea, and his eyes find yours, his dark gaze catches yours, ensnared in the blackhole that only pulls you under and apart, pinned underneath him.

“It’s just the bite, we can’t,” he’s covering his lips, as he takes steps away from you, towards the bathroom, “we just have to wait until it passes. It won’t take too long—”

“What if it’s not just your bite? Not for me,” you murmur, and the words are being spilled from your lips like honeyed truth with no bitter aftertaste, “it hasn’t been for me,” his brow is furrowing as if he can’t imagine a single person liking him, “I’ve spent the last year working with you and all i know is I wanted nothing more than to be the one you smile at — the same soft way you do when you your little brother visits you at work,”

And he’s swallowing, a deeper blush on his cheeks, “you noticed?”

“I also noticed how you always bring the person you work with their favorite coffee order, the way you try to make others feel valued when the company doesn’t even do it, and how you always do your best — even when it comes at your own expense,” it’s so easy to say these things, but it only makes you long for him more, “let me do more — let me take care of you—“

And he’s covering his mouth with his forearm, “do you know what you’re saying?” you slowly get up from the bed, taking careful steps towards him, “our heads are clouded, we aren’t—“ and he swears under his breath but he doesn’t resist your approach, the bathroom door right behind him, “I don’t want to hurt you—“

“Do you feel the same for me?” and his gaze softens as he meets yours, “because I get the feeling you do — at least you like my scent,” a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, “hopefully not just my scent?”

And you didn’t know it was possible for a vampire to be this pink in the face, but Choso was — and you weren’t sure if it was your words or your closeness, “It’s not just your scent,” he’s mumbling against his arm until he’s pulling it away, to reveal his lips colored a faint scarlet from your blood, “I have feelings for you — I have for a while,”

God, he was fun to tease, “What’s a while?” you’re murmuring, his lips part, flashing his fangs while he does. His eyes avert from your face, only to land on your neck, grazing over the bite mark he left, and you decide to spare him, “but if it’s been a while for you and for me, then—” he’s shivering again, a sigh caught in his throat, muscles tensed as if he was a tiger ready to pounce.

“It’ll be hard to stop once we start — we should think—“ your fingertips brush his cheek, his eyes falling shut at your touch, the want inside you only grew, as you felt him lean into you.

“Who said we’re going to stop?” and he breaks, his hand is sliding around your waist, tugging you closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his words nearly muttered against it.

“Are you sure?”

“I am—” and that’s all he needed.

In a flash you’re pinned on the bed, blinking as you glance at the spinning ceiling fan for a moment before he’s leaning over you.

His eyes are tinted with red and laced with desperation, fangs flashing as his fingers cup your chin and he leans down, “I’ll show you how much I like you, pretty girl.”

“Oh, Cho-so,” your arms are wrapped around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer, his hot tongue dragging up the side of your neck, licking at the rivers of blood dripping down, “fuck, please—“

“Can’t waste a single drop, not when you taste so good,” he’s murmuring, nearly hypnotized by your taste — his sticky saliva and your blood mixed together, “fuck, I could kiss every inch of you and it wouldn’t be enough,”

“Please, I need more,” and he’s chuckling, nibbling at the base of your neck, a whine parting your lips that made him nearly bust a nut then and there, “please—“

And his lips find yours in a searing kiss, fangs lightly biting your bottom lip, swallowing your gasps with a smirk, and how is it possible your lips are even sweeter? It was as if you were made of molasses, and he was more than happy to indulge. He parts your lips, dragging a thumb down your kiss bitten lips, your saliva clinging to his skin.

“You know how long I wanted this? Had to touch myself in the shower to stop myself from pinning you the moment we entered the room,” he murmurs, recalling how his fingers had reached for his cock, already nearly covered in pre, his thumb running across his slit was nearly enough to make him burst. But it paled in comparison to the sight of you, disheveled under him, eyes glazed over with pleasure, chest rising and falling fast, and your lips nearly begging him to kiss you again and again, “and now I want to take my time, love,” but he doesn’t, instead he bends down again, to nip and suck marks all over your skin, savoring the drops of blood he steals from each one — a constellation dotting your neck and collarbone to remind anyone that you were his. And his fingers find yours, just as he was yours.

And you whimper, as he kisses his way down your arm, sweet pecks dotting down, until he reaches your wrist. He noses it, feeling the rush of your pulse underneath your skin, the sweet scent of your blood clouded his mind, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, as he flashes a gaze upward for your silent permission. You nod.

Your nod was all he needed, before his fangs sinks into your wrist. It was potent — you were potent rather — he had grown used to his normal supply of blood, blood that he had acquired through the proper channels, and though it quenched his thirst, it never satisfied it.

You were more than satisfaction itself — you were ecstasy incarnate, and he was utterly addicted from the moment he had his lips pressed against your lovely skin. Scarlet dripped from the bite and the corners of his mouth — the blood flooded his mouth, an unending pool of need that only grew with each second.

And as he pulled away, blood dripping from his lips, he watched your eyes flutter open, legs spread for him, as he licked his lips clean.

“Such a waste to let even a single drop go,” he drags his tongue up the rivulets of blood that ran down your wrist, and a whimper escapes your lips, and his lips curl, “what do you want, love? Tell me,”

And you’re biting your lip, averting your gaze, but he’s guiding it back to his, “Choso, please, I need you to touch me,” you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, cheeks burning, “please—“

He pulls your hand away, and kisses your lips again in a bruising kiss, before he’s pressing sweet kisses down your body, easing the straps of your bra down. He kisses the swell of your breasts, one after the other, making you squirm in place.

“Pretty girl,” he’s murmuring, his lips kissing each one of your erect nipples, caught in a thick haze of lust, “so good for me,” and he’s lighting a trail of kisses down your body, and he’s resisting the urge to mark up every inch of you — no, there would be time for that later, his eyes flicking up to meet your half lidded gaze, “gonna be good for me?” His skillful fingers slide under the elastic of your panties, snapping the fabric against you, making you gasp, “either way, I might just eat you up,”

A shaky chuckle escapes your lips, “Promise?” And he chuckles, as he’s spreading your lips, leaning down to press a hot kiss to your inner thigh.

“Be careful what you wish for,” his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, before running over the mark with his tongue, before his fingers are running over your drenched panties, and it takes everything in him not to sink his fangs into your plush thigh, but no — he’s carefully tugging down your underwear down your legs — he had to stay focused.

His breath catches at the sight of your dripping cunt and swollen clit, glistening with your juices that told him just how much you wanted this — and it was enough to nearly have him cumming in his boxers. And then the sweet scent of your precum becomes too much for him—

And he can’t wait.

His tongue flicks against your clit, making a squeal escape your lips, fingers finding purchase in the long strands. It’s too good — judging by the way your hips nearly rut into his lips, while your own moans his name. But it was even better for him, as he groans against your pussy, licking the pre sticking to his lips.

“How do you taste so good? Sweetest thing I’ve tasted, as good as every part of you,”

You gasp when his fingers spread your folds, “Cho—“ and he’s circling a tip of one of his lithe fingers around your entrance teasingly.

He hums lightly, “Can’t decide whether I want to use my fingers or my mouth, love,” he murmurs in contemplation, whilst his tongue teases your needy clit, “what do you think, baby?”

“I need you—anything—“ and he’s licking a stripe up your sweet pussy, before he’s sinking a finger into your fluttering walls, “Choso—fuck—“ and the wet squelch of your cunt and the feel of your fluttering walls around his digit makes his dick twitch in his boxers, “s’good,”

And you’re melting into his touch, your juices soaking his fingers and wrist as he fucks you with his finger, knuckle deep in your warm walls, rubbing at your clit with his thumb.

And you’re so sensitive, every move of his finger has your walls squeezing him tight, his other hand sneaking into his boxers to palm at his erection, “Cho, I need more—“ and he’s adding a second finger to the first, fucking you deep until he finds that spot — and that’s enough for you to fall apart.

You cum, back arching as you do, stars bursting behind closed eyes, as you moan his name. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around his fingers, thighs tensing around his hand. You come down from your high, chest nearly heaving from your pants, as he eases his fingers from your pussy. A soft sigh leaving your throat as your cunt flutters around nothing.

Your eyes flutter open to see Choso licking his fingers clean — still sticky with your release — fangs flashing with the part of his lips, and you shiver at the sight. He’s leaning back down, pressing kisses to your thighs, before his tongue drags up your leaking pussy, making you gasp.

“Please, Choso—fuck—“ and he’s smirking, glancing up with lips glossy with your release, placing a chaste kiss to your puffy clit, your eyes falling to his hand palming his boxers, “let me touch you—“

“Not yet, baby,” his tongue circles your slit, circles growing faster before sinking into your insides, nose bumping against your swollen clit, as he laps at your messy slit, “not until I’ve swallows every drop of you,” his fangs pinch at your clit.

It’s already too much for you — your second orgasm sneaks up on you — a coil wound tight as he slurps and sucks at your cunt, all too eager to taste every last drop. And oh, he does — until he uses his thumb to rub at your clit, and it’s too much—

You squirt all over his face, soaking his face and fingers with your release, his lips more than eager to lap up every drop of it. Even as he pulls away, your cum is dripping down his chin, his dark eyes lidded as he looks up at you.

And he can’t wait anymore—he needs to sink his dick into you. He’s licking his chin clean, pussydrunk on your cum, as he smashes lips to yours. Your moan is stifled as you taste yourself on his lips, tongue sneaking into your mouth as you part them for him. You hear the shift of the sheets as he tugs his boxers down, pulling his lips away only to finish kicking them off.

But that’s not what you were looking at.

Fuck, he was huge — his engorged tip was a deep red, large pearly beads of precum dripping down, while the rest of him was flushed a lovely pink. The veins that went along his length made gou tempted to trace them, mapping out his cock until you remembered every inch. You were hypnotized as your fingers reached for him, thumb flicking against his slit, before grasping at his base.

He gasps, head lolling back, as you spread the pre along his length, beginning to pump him, “Fuck, so good for me, baby,” he’s covering his lips, cheeks flushed to match his cock, “please, I won’t last—“ and he nearly blows his load when your mouth sucks at the tip, before sliding his dick past your lips. your tongue tracing along the veins.

And a whine leaves his throat, as you start to bob along his length, spit and precum dripping down the corners of your mouth as you messily sucked at him. His hips jerk, as his fingers thread into your hair, tip brushing against his throat, it’s almost too much.

He’s easing you off his cock with a tug of your hair, your lips parting with a pop, strings of saliva and precum connecting your mouth to his dick. And god, he wants nothing more then to pump his cock and let him spill all over your face.

But no, no, he rather spill inside you.

In an instant he’s gotten you onto your back, the head of his cock brushing against your dripping cunt. He’s dragging the head of his dick against your dripping folds teasingly, making you squirm.

“Please,” you’re whining, drawing a soft chuckle from him, as he’s lining himself up, groaning in unison as his tip bumps against your slit, “fuck, Choso, I need you—“

And he obliges, sinking into you inch by inch, a grunt from his mouth, “Already trying to swallow me whole, love? No need for that — I’m already giving it to you,” the delicious stretch of your warm walls pull him in deeper, stretching as he works himself inside your cunt, “so tight, baby,” and he’s finally bottoming out — cock twitching against your sweet cunt.

He’s reaching places you didn’t think were possible, his

You were far too tempting, “Please, Cho, please move—“ your words cut off with a gasp as his lips against your neck again, fangs piercing your skin as he bites you, right as he starts to slowly fuck into you.

White hot pleasure rips up your spine — the bite and the way his cock fucks you enough for you to already cum around him, your mouth parted in moans, as your walls clamp down on him. He’s sucking greedily at your blood, and he wasn’t sure what was better, the way your sweet blood tasted against his tongue, or the way your release squelched around his dick, as he fucked it. And he barely registers that his cock is growing larger against your spasming pussy, but you sure do, as you moan his name.

“S’big, Choso, too big,” you’re whining, as his hand presses against your lower half only to feel a slight bulge, and he only makes him want to thrust harder, too far gone to think — only one thought circling the drain of his pin sized perspective — that he wanted to fill you up,

“Cho-so, please—“ and he doesn’t know what you’re asking him, to slow down or to go faster, as he pulls his fangs from you. And he could cum just looking at you — your forehead slick with sweat, while scarlet rivulets of your blood ran down the side of your neck, eyes blown out in such lust — and everything about your body begging him to fuck you more.

“S’pretty for me, baby,” as he fucks you through your orgasm, another building in its place, as he watches his cock piston in and out of your fluttering cunt. And it feels too fucking good. And he’s leaning back down to lick up the blood staining your neck, as he gives a particular hard thrust that has you seeing stars, and he knows you’re close—and he knows he won’t last much longer — not with the way your vice grip cunt is squeezing around him.

But you’re confirming it with your moans, filling his ears along with the lewd noises of skin slapping together, “I’m close—I’m—“ and he’s grunting in agreement, as his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, only to pull a breath away to ask:

“Where?” And the flutter of your walls that pulls him impossibly deeper tells him the answer, but you reply with words as well.

“Inside, please, need to feel you fill me—“ you cum then and there, words cut off with a moan of his name, and he’s fucking you through your orgasm. His thrusts stutter as he grows close, before groaning and pressing another kiss to your lips, biting your bottom lip to draw blood, as he spills inside you, painting your insides with his hot release, fucking it inside you as his hips slow.

He’s pulling away from your lips, pulling himself from inside you, a soft gasp leaving your lips, as he moans himself when he watches his seed mixed with your cum slip from your pussy.

He’s caressing you, pressing sweet kisses to your face and neck, your quiet pants filling his ears like a metronome.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, and your eyes flutter open, lips curling slightly as you nod, a sigh on your lips.

“I’m more than okay,” you press your lips to his again, a sweet kiss that grows more insistent as your tongue drags against the seam of his lips, before you hear a wet squelch, and your eyes open darting down to only find him stroking his cock, “Choso, are you—“

“Mm, the effect of your blood hasn’t quite subsided for me,” he murmurs, “but I think I can take care of it with—“ and he’s flipped onto his back, eyes blinking up as you, sitting on top of him.

And he sees the blatant want in your gaze, as you begin to lower yourself onto his dick, a smile pulling at your lips, as your lust pulled him under and his cock inside you.

“I told you I’d take care of you, Choso,” and you offer your neck to him again, dragging your wrist across his face, “so let me.”

“You’ll be working with Choso again on this project,” you have to bite back your smile, when you nod, “the two of you did a good job on the last one. Thank you for the overtime you put in. It did not go unnoticed,”

“No problem, sir, anything for the job,” and your supervisor smiles, as you turn to leave, “I’m sure Choso would say the same,”

“The two of you make a good team. I may pair you two together more often. Is that okay? I’ll have to run it by Choso, of course,” and you nod, hand already on the door knob.

“I’m sure he would be more than okay with that, sir.”

“Ah, baby, please just one bite?” Choso’s got you pressed up against the conference room door, “spending all day at work with you makes me so needy,” he mumbles against your skin, as he’s already unbuttoning your button up, the shirt already creased with he’s tugging it free from your slacks, “please,”

“Cho, you had one this morning, it’s barely lunchtime, and you’re this desperate—” and he’s grinding his tenting erection against your clothed cunt, and your hand barely is able to make it in time to stifle your moan with your fingers, “fuck, fine, one bite, but don’t make a mess, this is a white blouse, babe—”

He’s already tugging down your shirt, wrapping his arms around his middle, as his red tinted gaze meets yours in the shaded drawn window of the conference door. And now you were sure — your coworker loved you, even when you thought he didn’t.

“Don’t worry, love, I won’t spill a drop.”

✧ a/n: this fic was weirdly hard to write. i was very stuck for a while. i couldn't figure out how to write it even though the idea struck me. but i hope you all enjoy <3 thank you for @laneysmusings and @gaylatteart for betaing and being the best moral support <3

✧ taglist: @yourwaifuhatesyou, @cira273, @kakashineedstotouchgrass, @whereismysane, @kaedeolgy, @keirangoldenwatch, @indieotterxoxo, @mua-for-now, @b3llair3, @evieslook, @shervinss, @saltymeow77, @svt-backup, @dazailover1900, @kentocalls, @yamaguccitadashi, @simply-a-s1mp, @rita-ritarita, @gorepain, @jupisloveletterz, @ice-echo26, @lemonpoppy-seed, @turtletaubwrites, @complexivelovely, @tiramatsumu, @strangehuman101, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @adrenova, @chosoitos, @stonecoldsensitive, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunamatic, @maetziniscool, @muichirosbestie, @monstrousbuu, @spider-fan72, @nakariabnrb, @petalshxwer, @talkativetranscendant, @fairyxgothic, @jupisloveletterz, @crystalkat6747, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @hotcocokiss, @angstigone, @sunnykento, @dantaku

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soaps-mohawk · 1 day

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Summary: Your pack is back home, but things aren't quite as good as you try to make them seem. Some truths get revealed, while others remain in the dark.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,337 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, '09 Ghost's backstory, mentioned abuse/child abuse, still pretty heavy emotionally, language, finally some of the comfort after the hurt, plenty of fluff

A/N: This stupid fic making me cry again. I may have lied about this one not being quite as heavy as the others...it's still pretty heavy, but there are some sweet moments in there too. There is a bit of a time jump in the middle, it's roughly a week long or so. Not much, but it does cut ahead a bit just for the sake of plot and moving things along. Also yeah, I got it done earlier than expected.

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You’re warm. Sweat has begun to form in the creases of your body. You’re wrapped around something solid, something contributing to the intense warmth. The smell of leather and eucalyptus fills your nose as you nuzzle your face against soft fabric. It sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat, your eyes fluttering open. You’re staring at a blurry mass of black fabric, your brain beginning to catch up as you become more and more aware.

Leather. Eucalyptus. Something distinctly alpha.

Fuck.

You’re spooning Ghost.

He has to be asleep, otherwise he would never let you get so close to him. He would have shoved you off, pushed you back towards Johnny, who you’ve traded places with in the middle of the night. You must have gotten too hot sandwiched between the two betas and tried to escape somewhere cooler. That led to you spooning with Ghost, not that he’s much cooler than the betas.

You can get away before he wakes up, remove yourself from his personal space before he realizes and forces you away. Avoid the shame and embarrassment of his rejection, his anger at you for crossing that boundary, even just in your sleep. Despite the fact you know that boundary is there, despite the fact you did it unintentionally, you’re not sure you could handle such a rejection right now, even from him.

You slowly begin to withdraw your arm from around his middle, sliding it back towards your body. If you go slow enough, you should be able to untangle yourself from around him without waking him and avoid a confrontation.

A quiet gasp is pulled from your lips as his hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you from moving.

“Don’t.” He says quietly.

Your heart is thudding in your chest as he tugs your arm back around him, keeping you where you are. Your exhale is shaky as you slowly relax, pressing your face against his back again. You’re not sure what to do. You were expecting him to push you away, get up in disgust and leave because you got too close, you pushed past the barrier he had placed around himself when it came to you. A barrier that got let down only while you’re training, then it’s put right back up as soon as you’re finished. Now here you are, spooning him after sleeping in the same room, the same nest.

You wouldn’t have taken him for being a little spoon type.

Your eyes begin to droop again as you lay there, breathing in Ghost’s scent. It’s like a comforting blanket, lulling you into a sense of relaxation, of safety, something you haven’t felt in days. For the first time your mind is quiet, not panicking about what happened, or what could happen. You don’t have to worry about your pack now, because they’re here with you again.

You drift off to sleep again for a while, sleeping soundly in the cocoon of safety your pack has provided for you.

You wake a while later, sticky with sweat. Your back is pressed against Ghost’s, and there’s something draped across your face. You push it away, blinking your eyes open. Johnny has starfished across the nest on his back, his mouth open as he snores. He’s stolen your bear, one arm holding it against his chest, and the other arm had been what was draped across your face. Kyle is curled up on his other side, having moved from the middle to the far side of the nest. John is missing, making your brows furrow.

You push yourself up to sit, the air in the room almost like a sauna. You rub your eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. That might have been the best sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. It was likely the exhaustion taking its toll, paired with your brain finally being able to relax while surrounded by your pack.

You feel like you could lay down and sleep for another ten hours.

You’re warm, though, sweat causing your clothes to stick to your skin. The blankets have all been kicked to the end of the mattresses, likely ditched early on in the night. You wiggle out of your sweatpants, kicking them off the end of the mattress as well, leaving you in a baggy shirt that you think is Johnny’s.

You feel suddenly exposed sitting there, your eyes flicking around the room as a chill runs down your spine. John would have noticed if something was out of place, but he could have just brushed it off as you in his room. He had given you permission to be in his space while he was gone, if you needed to. One of them would have noticed if things were out of place in their rooms. Ghost would likely notice, since you haven’t been in his room at all.

You lay back down on your back, staring up at the vent on the ceiling. The cover is in place, and no matter how hard you look, you can’t see a camera hiding in the gaps. It doesn’t ease your worry any as you stare up at it, wishing you had your phone so you could at least try to look for one. Though, perhaps it was better you didn’t have your phone with you. You hadn’t been brave enough to pop it open and look for anything strange hidden inside, though you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, or what to look for.

You should tell them. What if someone is watching you right now?

You flinch as John appears in the doorway suddenly, five water bottles tucked against his chest. Your skin is crawling from the thought of someone watching, someone listening in on such a private moment with you and your pack. You hadn’t even thought about it last night, the stress and your fear had taken over your mind. You push yourself back up to sit as John passes Ghost a water bottle, handing one to you as well. You unscrew the cap as John places the other bottles on his desk. Johnny and Kyle still asleep, unaware of the world.

Unaware of the danger.

A cold shiver slips down your spine as you gulp down the water. What if someone had entered the barracks last night? You weren’t in your room, and the door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have just walked in and put up cameras again easily.

One of the guys would have heard someone snooping around, right? You were so out of it you likely would have slept through one of them getting up. What if they were also so exhausted from their deployment they could have slept through someone breaching their space as well. Did Ghost lock the door last night? You can’t remember.

“Alright, sweetheart?”

Your head snaps up to where John is leaning against his desk. His brows are slightly furrowed as he stares at you, and you realize you’ve been projecting your scent. With them gone, you didn't have to worry as much. You could stink up a room without a care. It just meant more protection for you. Now that they’re back, though, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go panicking over nothing, not that you should have to panic while they’re here.

That’s their job, right? Protect the omega?

They can’t protect you if they don’t know there’s a threat in the first place.

“Yeah.” You say, gulping down more water to think up an excuse quickly. “Thought I might be dreaming for a moment, that you didn't really come back.”

John approaches you slowly, kneeling down on the end of the mattress with a quiet sigh. He has to be sore after their deployment. You can tell just by the way he’s holding his shoulders, by the stiffness in the way he moves. You can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of things they did, the kinds of things they went through over the last week.

John takes your hand, pressing it against his chest. He’s warm underneath the shirt, and you can feel the steady beating of his heart under your palm. “We’re real.” He says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he holds it against his chest. “We’re really here.”

You stare at his hand where it covers yours. You’ve seen it before, many times. Scarred and rough with calluses. His knuckles are dry and just slightly bruised. Did he punch someone? Or maybe he hit it against something else.

His hand moves, snapping you out of your thoughts. You fight the urge to flinch as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You’re thinking too much.”

You swallow thickly. “Well, I didn’t have much to do this last week besides think.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “We’ll try to make life more interesting for you, then.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get these two muppets up for breakfast.”

He pushes himself back up to stand, staring down at Johnny and Kyle, still sleeping. You shift onto your hands and knees, crawling over to Johnny before swinging a leg over to straddle his stomach. You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his face, his breath catching as he begins to wake up, sensing a disturbance. You stare down at him, watching his eyes flutter before they crack open. The haze of sleep leaves his blue eyes, clarity coming back to him quickly as his lips begin to lift in a grin as he stares up at you.

“Didnae expect tae wake up to such a sight.” He says, voice thick with sleep as his hands come to rest on your bare thighs. “A beautiful woman on top of me? I must’ve died and gone tae heaven in my sleep.”

“Even better,” You say, leaning down closer. “Because I’m real.”

“That ye are.” He says, slowly dragging his hands up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he goes.

Ghost pushes himself off the mattress, leaving the room so quickly he nearly knocks his shoulder against the doorframe. A frown pulls at your brows as you watch him go, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit on Johnny’s stomach. Guilt starts to well up in you as you stare at the empty doorway. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable.

“Don’t mind him, kitten.” Johnny says, pushing himself up to sit, sliding you backwards into his lap. “He’s still miffed he didn’t get a greetin’ yesterday.”

“Oh,” You say, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t even thought about greeting Ghost in that moment. You had been so desperate for your alpha, and then swept up by the betas, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to acknowledge Ghost. “I didn’t-”

“It’s not yer fault.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you. “He hasnae been the most...open with ye. It’s his own damn fault for it.”

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to give him a big hug when he comes back in.” You say.

“Please do.” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes where he’s laying next to you. “I’ll pay to see his reaction.”

All three of you burst out laughing, Johnny pressing his forehead against yours. “Missed ye, kitten.”

“Not as much as I missed you.” You say, pouting.

Johnny chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands slide to your hips as he presses another soft kiss to your lips, and then another.

“Let me get in on some of that.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to sit. He grips your chin in his hand, turning your face to his before pressing his lips to yours.

His kiss takes your breath away, deeper and more passionate than Johnny’s had been. You hum against his lips as Johnny’s grip on your waist tightens.

“Christ almighty.” Johnny breathes, staring at you and Kyle as you kiss.

“Alright, you three.” John says as the air in the room starts to turn musky with arousal. “Let’s feed our omega first before we get too carried away.”

Kyle pulls away from you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Can we...eat in here again?” You ask, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders as you turn slightly to look up at John. You had almost forgotten about his presence, caught up in the attention from your betas. The thought of him watching the three of you has a different kind of thrill racing down your spine.

“Of course.” John says, bending down to kiss you.

Both Johnny and Kyle groan at the sight of their pack alpha kissing you, Johnny’s cock twitching in his boxers beneath you. You press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek after John pulls away from you before pushing yourself up to stand. You stretch your arms over your head, the shirt riding up a bit, giving both Kyle and Johnny a good view of your legs. The musky scent of arousal intensifies in the air as they stare at you, Johnny licking his lips hungrily.

“Alright, get out of here you cheeky little minx, otherwise they’ll never get out of bed.” John says, gently guiding you from the room.

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you leave John’s room, stepping out into the hallway. It’s much cooler outside of the room, goosebumps forming on your legs. You have half a mind to go back to your own room, but you find yourself unable to even approach the door. Memories of the fear and your panic come flooding back, the thought that someone might have snuck inside, someone might be waiting for you in there snapping to the front of your mind. It’s a ridiculous thought. Someone would have noticed if there was an intruder, if there was someone who shouldn’t be inside creeping around.

Your gaze flickers from your door as Ghost makes his way down the hallway, his clothes changed from what he’d been wearing to sleep in. You bite your lip as you stare at him, meeting his gaze. Perhaps it's the fear driving you forward, or maybe you’ve gone slightly crazy in their absence, but you find yourself approaching him, making him stop in his tracks.

He eyes you as you approach, your steps quick as you try to avoid chickening out. Your mind is repeating Johnny’s words over and over in your head, an explanation for Ghost’s behavior yesterday, and obvious annoyance at you and Johnny this morning. You wonder if he’ll take it as a threat as you get closer to him, if he might snap and defend himself. He’s completely still, not even his chest moving. He’s watching you like a predator watches its prey, waiting for your next move.

It’s like hugging a tree as you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s stiffer than a board as you hug him, resting your face on his chest. Leather and eucalyptus and musk all float around you as you press close to him, his scent enveloping you in a hug, even if his body doesn’t follow suit.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest.

“Hugging you.” You say, tightening your hold around him. You’ve been this close to him before in your training, but this feels different. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.”

He lets out a quiet sigh, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to him. You can imagine it’s a sigh of exasperation at Johnny for spilling about his feelings. “It’s fine.” He says, awkwardly patting your back. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.”

“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say. “That should be enough reason.”

You nuzzle your face against his chest, his scent going straight to the back of your brain. Your omega wants to roll in it, cover herself in it until it’s all you can smell. The intensity of his scent has something in your hindbrain purring, the sound rumbling through your chest.

Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back from him. You blink up at him blearily as your mind begins to clear a bit with the distance. “At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles.

A small smile tugs at your lips before it falls at the thought of having to go into your room. You turn to face the door, your vision almost tunneling as you stare at it. You don’t want to open it. You don’t want to go in there.

“Ghost?” You say quietly before he can walk away.

He turns to look at you, his eyes squinting just slightly as he frowns. “What?”

“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, knowing he’s going to want a reason, an explanation for your behavior.

He turns fully to face you, shoulders squared as he slowly approaches, suddenly on the defensive. “What is it?”

You shake your head. “Just a feeling.”

He steps between you and the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle before he swings it open, scanning the inside. His shoulders relax just slightly and you let out a breath of air. There’s no one inside. No one’s waiting for you. No one broke in last night.

He takes a step back before turning to you. “Nothing.”

You let out a sigh of relief, staring into the space that was once your nest, your safe place. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you, waiting for an explanation for your behavior. You can’t tell him the truth, despite how easy it would be. You could confess right now, admit to what happened, what you did, the mistake you made. You could drop to your knees right now, beg for forgiveness for what you did.

“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You say. It’s not a lie. Not entirely. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.”

He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his eyes. He knows your lying, he knows you’re withholding the truth from him. You aren’t, you just aren’t giving him the whole truth. You had felt lonely, you had been on edge even before General Shepherd arrived and your room was bugged. Being alone was hard. Harder than you thought it would be. It would have taken its toll on you, even without the stress of your space being invaded multiple times.

You should have told someone. You should have called Dr. Keller right away. You should have never opened the door in the first place.

“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and entering your room.

He stands there for a few breaths, watching you warily as you open your closet, looking for something to wear. You ignore him, acting like he’s not there, but you can’t hide the squaring of your shoulders, the stiffness of your movements. You’re not sure you could resist if he pressed, if he tried to force you to tell him. You’d spill immediately, even without him using his alpha against you.

The thought has another chill racing down your spine.

Your omega is on edge as you change with the door open, not caring as the guys move around, getting dressed to head out to grab breakfast for everyone. You hate how inconvenient it must be, but you still don’t think you could handle being in the mess. Not yet. Not so soon. You’ll have to eventually, otherwise they’ll think something is up, happened, and then they’ll start questioning.

You couldn’t handle an interrogation. Especially not their disappointed and angry faces when you confess to what you did, the mistakes you made, how you allowed someone to walk in so easily. How you left so easily with a stranger. They’d never trust you again.

They won’t trust you if you keep things from them either.

They have to know. They have to know General Shepherd came to base and talked to you. They have to know about you meeting their superior while they were away. A high ranking General couldn’t just be on base without someone knowing, and why would he hide it? He had come to check in on your progress and how you were settling in with your pack. He would have included your pack in that questioning as well, right? Besides, there has to be cameras everywhere on base. Someone would have seen you and let them know.

There’s no way they don’t know about it.

You stand in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at the cabinet where the broken cameras and recording devices are hidden. They’re broken, you ensured that. They’re hidden away, buried under enough stuff no one could find them unless they were purposefully looking for something.

You let out a breath, trying to relax as you finish your morning routine. It’s over. There’s nothing that can be done now. All you can do is try to move on, try to mend the fraying bonds with your pack, heal the sense of fear and unease surrounding your safe space.

Maybe Dr. Keller could help. You could admit everything to her, everything that happened while she was supposed to be watching you. If you had just gone to her office that afternoon, perhaps things would have been different. She would have known, but that wouldn’t have stopped the cameras from being put up. It would have just made it easier for them. Maybe they might have finished the job properly, and you wouldn’t have even known. Even if you had called Dr. Keller, what kind of argument could she have made against a Commanding Officer?

If you told Dr. Keller now, she’d tell your pack. She’s promised to keep everything between you confidential, but would something like this be an exception? Would she tell your pack anyway because she thinks it’s the best course of action to help you?

You want to cry. Tears are welling in your eyes as you stare in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself. You look tired, strung out, sickly almost. Are you not, though? Is that not how you feel? You know omegas can get sick from stress sometimes, if it gets to be too much. You don’t want to get sick. You don’t want to be more of a burden than you’re already being. They have to be so tired after their assignment, and here you are making things harder for them.

“You alright, love?”

You jump, letting out a shriek as you whip around to face the door of your room. Your heart is racing as you slap a hand over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at an equally surprised Kyle. You let out a breath, slowly lowering your trembling hand as you try to calm yourself. It’s just Kyle sneaking up on you. Not a stranger.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, brows pinching in a frown.

“‘S okay.” You murmur, turning off the light before leaving the bathroom. “Was lost in thought.”

“The others left to grab food.” Kyle says. “They’ll be back shortly.”

You nod, trying hard not to make your trembling too visible, or give any hint at your discomfort. “Okay.”

You stare at him as he leans against the doorframe. He hasn’t entered your room. He’s still standing in the doorway. The thought has a lump forming in your throat. Your bonds have frayed so much he doesn’t even feel comfortable entering your space anymore. There’s a wall up again, and you’re only forcing it higher and higher.

“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s go to the rec room.”

You take his offered hand, letting him pull you from your room. The door clicks closed behind you as you let him lead you down the hallway and away from the place that’s become fuel for your nightmares.

Kyle sits down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap. You wrap your arm around his neck as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth and scent.

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He says softly, bringing your other hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to your wrist.

“It’s not your fault.” You say, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Been on edge since everyone left.”

“I bet.” Kyle leans his cheek against the top of your head. “We’re here now. We’re gonna fix that.”

“What happens when you have to leave again?” You ask.

“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” A different voice says.

You nearly jump out of Kyle’s lap as John appears in the doorway of the rec room, Johnny and Ghost right behind him. Kyle’s arms are the only thing keeping you steady as your heart nearly beats out of your chest. You’re not sure how much more you can take, intentionally or unintentionally.

“I spoke with Kate this morning.” John says as he sets the food he’s carrying on the coffee table. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.”

Your brows pinch a little. Is that why he had been absent from the nest earlier? You’re not quite sure what to feel. On one hand you’re relieved at the thought of not having to be alone again, but on the other hand, you don’t want to disrupt their lives, their jobs. You wonder just how hard he had to fight to even get Kate to agree to something like this.

You also feel a bit afraid that they know, they figured out what had happened and that’s the reason they don’t trust to leave you alone again. You’ll make another stupid mistake or another risky decision that might cause you actual harm next time.

Kyle eases you off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Johnny sits on your other side, squishing you between them as a tray is passed into your hands. You don’t feel very hungry as you stare down at the food, but you know after a meager dinner last night, you need to eat. You won’t be doing you or your pack any favors by being hungry.

It’s quiet in the rec room as you eat. It’s almost eerie how silent it is, aside from the occasional scrape of silverware on the trays. You begin to float back into the time when they were gone, the haunting silence that had settled over the barracks in their absence. Everything had seemed so still, not peaceful, but more like the very walls were holding their breath.

Perhaps it was in anticipation for what was to come. Perhaps somehow the very walls knew they would be beached, the safety they once promised would be upended.

Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy.

You shift forward on the couch, careful not to tip your tray over as you grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on.

“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims, letting out a relieved sigh.

The corners of your lips pull up in a smile as you pass the remote off to him, letting him search for something bearable to watch on early morning TV. You’re glad at least you weren’t alone in your distaste for the silence. You curl up closer to Gaz, reminding yourself that it’s not a dream, that they really are here. They really did come back.

Now you just have to move on and put the nightmare of what happened behind you.

As the days pass, things begin to return to normal. The guys start their normal routine of training and running drills almost immediately. To avoid being stuck in the barracks alone, you ask to go with them, blaming it on the distance and your need to be clingy still. At first you were afraid someone would take advantage of the barracks being empty again, but every search has come up empty handed. No more cameras, no more recording devices.

Whoever it was who planted them must have given up, or perhaps the risk of doing it with the entire pack back on base was too high.

Despite this fact, you spend the least amount of time in your room as possible. Even when you can’t go to watch them train or run drills, you spend your time in John’s room, or in the rec room. At night you rotate between John, Kyle, and Johnny, opting to sleep with them over spending a night alone in your room.

As you discussed, you begin seeing Dr. Keller twice a week. You’re not quite sure what she told John to convince him it was necessary, but whatever it was, it hadn’t given away any of your secrets. It probably hadn’t taken much to convince him to say yes, given your current state and his worry about you.

You know he’s worried. You can see it when he looks at you, like you might snap if he stares too hard. You’ve seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny holds you too tightly or gets too rough in his affection, like he’s worried you might shatter.

It’s reassuring to see the distance has not just affected you. Johnny holds you tighter than he used to, Kyle stands closer to you like he’s trying to fuse you both into one. Even Ghost has started hovering closer, using his hands to steer you and guide you when you’re around others that aren’t part of your pack.

You’ve started eating in the mess again, knowing you can only avoid it for so long before they’ll start getting suspicious and asking questions. You still feel paranoid, being around the other soldiers on base. You can’t help but be suspicious that it was one of them that planted the cameras, that it was one of them that tried to get into your room that night. Who would willingly breach such sacred ground and invade an omega’s space like that, you couldn’t even begin to guess.

Sure, some of them still stare at you, but most of them now ignore your existence. You’re no longer a spectacle, not after a few weeks on base, not that you’re a claimed omega now.

That won’t stop some alphas.

Going up against your pack, though? That would take one hell of a cocksure alpha.

Just like the one that invaded your safe space.

It had to have been an alpha. Sure, that beta soldier had entered the barracks, but to go so far as to put up cameras and try to come back and get into your room? That takes a special kind of audacity, something only an alpha could possess.

So life has gone back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be after what happened.

The return to normal hasn’t all been good, though. Your nightmares have returned, coming on quickly as soon as you began to settle into routine again. The real nightmare has passed, so now your mind has to plague itself with nightmares that have already happened. Things that can’t even hurt you anymore.

You start avoiding sleep again, despite your work with Dr. Keller, too afraid to risk having a nightmare in front of one of them again. The last thing you need is to have to spill about your nightmare. You might not be able to stop and wind up spilling about what happened while they were gone too.

Unfortunately, things don’t work that way. They never work that way for you.

Someone is screaming. Your body feels like it’s being constricted by a snake, crushing and painful as you’re clutched desperately against your mother’s chest. She’s the one that’s screaming, the sound hurting your ears. Your face is pressed against her shoulder, into the softness of her sweater. It’s the pink one, the one she made. Her favorite.

There’s knocking coming from somewhere, a door handle jiggling. It’s locked, but you can hear someone trying to get in, multiple people based on the voices from the other side. You don’t know who it is. You don’t recognize any of them. You can’t even make out what it is their saying, if they’re saying anything at all. The voices sound more like the unintelligible roar of monsters, the ones you used to be afraid of as a child.

Everything is muted by the blood pulsing in your ears, drowning out everything but the jiggling of the door handle. Someone’s trying to break in. Someone is breaking in. You can make out the thuds against the door, the desperate attempts to get inside, to get to you.

The arms around you tighten, pressing your face harder into the soft yarn of the sweater. You inhale the familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla, the scent surrounding you and enveloping you in a sense of safety. Nothing can get you. Nothing can hurt you.

That’s not true, though. You know it’s not.

There’s a bang as the door is finally forced open, the screaming getting louder as footsteps enter the room. You’re shaking, trembling in your mother’s arms as she clings to you desperately, just like you used to cling to her when you thought there was a monster under your bed.

The monsters were real, you realize as you desperately cling to your mother, just as tightly as she’s clinging to you.

Hands grab at you, claws digging into your skin, tentacles wrapping around your body, trying to pull you from your mother’s grip. You can hear her pleading, begging, screaming at them not to take you, not to separate you. You’ll never see her again if they manage to pull you from her. They’ll take you away, hide you away, keep you from the warm comfort of her embrace.

You let out a scream of your own as you’re yanked from her grasp, your arms reaching for her as the monsters pull you from the source of your safety and comfort. The last thing you see is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door slams in your face.

A scream tears from your lips as you’re pulled from sleep suddenly. You’re falling, hitting the tile floor with a thud. Your shoulder cracks against the unforgiving floor, making you yelp. The blanket has tangled around your legs, rendering you immobile from the waist down.

The frantic pounding of boots on the floor meets your ears, seconds before the four members of your pack are sprinting into the rec room. Their faces look just as frantic as their steps had been, concern laced with fear laced with worry. You hadn’t even realized they’d returned already. They had been at their afternoon drills while you stayed in the rec room watching TV, slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you.

“What is it? What happened?” Kyle asks, moving to step forward but John beats him to it.

“Fell off the couch.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. There’s tears sliding down your cheeks despite you fighting the remnants of your terror and pain from the nightmare.

“I think there’s more to it than that.” John says, kneeling down in front of you.

You want to confess everything. How you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now since your heat, how you keep having horrible nightmares about your past, what happened while they were away, how the nightmares have returned. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at John, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you give up trying to control them. Guilt plagues you as you stare at the worried face of your alpha. He just wants to help you, he just wants to take care of you, but he can’t if you’re keeping things from him, if you’re lying to his face.

“I had a nightmare.” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You clutch your arm to your chest, trying not to move your shoulder too much.

John lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers lifting to press against your shoulder, feeling around the joint. You wince as he hits a tender spot, the pain sharp, but not horrible. You’ve certainly felt worse things.

He turns to the others behind him, all of them staring at you with equally worried looks on their faces. “Get me an ice pack.” He says before turning back to you.

He lifts you off the floor, placing you back on the couch before untangling the blanket from around your legs. Johnny grabs an ice pack as Kyle moves to sit next to you on the couch, draping his arm across the back, projecting his scent to try and help you relax. John sits on the edge of the coffee table, staring at you. Despite the worry still present on his face, his eyes are sharp. You can’t help but feel like you’re suddenly in an interrogation. They’ve done this before, probably many times, though likely not as gently as they are now. You’re terrified still at the way they shift so easily into the mindset of a soldier. You can’t even imagine what it would be like if they were serious in their interrogation of you.

“How long have you been having nightmares?” John asks as Johnny takes a seat on the other side of you, passing you the ice pack.

You press it against your shoulder, trying to keep your thoughts straight. You have to try not to spill anything, try not to confess to all of your sins, all of your stupid mistakes now. Your gaze drops to your lap, avoiding the looks of the two alphas staring at you. Ghost has moved to stand behind John, his arms crossed as he watches the exchange. You can feel the pressure of their gaze, the sharpness of it digging into your skin like knives.

“A couple weeks.” You admit, unable to even think of a lie. You don’t want to lie now, not with them staring at you so intensely. They’d know. They’d be able to tell before the words even left your mouth. “Since my heat ended.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding sleeping?” John asks.

You wince at his question. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been trained to notice weaknesses in others, gauge the capabilities of his men. Of course he’d notice you’re more tired than usual, not sleeping quite as much. He probably even knew all the times you woke up in the night when you slept next to him.

You nod, still staring at your lap, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He breathes, almost sounding upset.

You’ve made a mistake in keeping this a secret. You regret it as soon as you hear the emotion in his voice. He thinks you don’t trust them, he thinks you don’t trust your alpha. You need to tell him. You need to tell him everything, but the fear keeps you paralyzed. How much more upset will he be when you confess that you kept such a major event from him, from all of them?

A quiet sob leaves your lips as you sit there, terrified of the reprimanding you’re sure to get. The shame burns hot in you, the reminder that you’ve disappointed them. You’ve let them down and now they won’t even trust you to tell them anything.

“We’re not mad at you, sweetheart.” Gaz says, shifting his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb brushing the hand that’s holding the ice pack to your shoulder. Johnny shifts just slightly closer to you, both of the betas projecting their scent around you, trying to cocoon you in their comforting presence.

“I just want to know why you felt it necessary to hide something like that from us.” John says, his voice softer than it had been before.

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You find the words spilling out before you can stop them. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fear or your brain finally getting tired of holding everything in. This is your moment to let out a little steam, to finally release some of the pressure that’s been building. “My nightmares are nothing compared to the ones you all probably have and it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be having them, it’s been years since the last time I dreamed like this, and I don’t even know why they’ve come back now.”

“No nightmares are stupid.” Ghost says, stepping up closer to the coffee table.

“We’re here to help you.” John says, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

Guilt burns through you at his words. He’s right. You should be honest with them, tell them everything. They can’t help you, they can’t keep you safe even from the things that plague your mind if they don’t know about them.

“What are the dreams about?” John asks, blue eyes boring holes into you.

You feel small under his gaze, like you're a child again, facing down your father after doing something wrong, after making a mistake. You have made a mistake, though. You’re facing the consequences of your mistake right now.

“The day I left for the institute.” You say quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper but you know they heard you in the silence of the barracks. It feels threatening, like the walls are silently vowing to tell the truth if you don’t.

Your pack shifts a bit at your words, sharing looks amongst themselves. They have to know what it’s like, or at least heard stories about the trauma of being pulled from your pack to be taken to a strange place, surrounded by others just like you.

“What happened that day?” Ghost asks, staring down at you.

You can feel his gaze piercing into you, screaming the silent threat that you’re going to tell them, no matter how long they have to sit here and wait. You don’t have a choice anymore. You have to tell them.

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth.

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you.

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence.

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.”

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it.

“Shut up and sit down.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak.

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity.

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door.

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. He catches her before she can rush forward to you. How you wish you could have her arms around you again, holding you and comforting you in your confusion.

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.”

You blink up at him, the words seering through the haze, registering in your foggy mind. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them.

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack.

Your mother is yelling, fighting against your father’s hold around her, but it’s useless. He’s stronger. He wants this, so no one is going to stop him. She’ll pay later for her actions, her disagreement with him. You won’t be here to see it, though. You’re leaving and you won’t be coming back.

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever.

You’re dragged into the back of a van parked in the driveway. Two men in uniform climb in behind you before the doors are slammed shut. You curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You want your mom, you want to be back in the safety of her arms, the warmth and comforting softness that only she can provide.

One of the men approaches you, a needle in his hand. You whimper in fear, pressing further back into the corner as he gets closer to you. He forces you down onto your stomach, the pain brief as he injects you with the sedative before he moves back to take his seat. You curl up in a ball, quietly sobbing as the drugs begin to work, your vision going hazy before you’re forced into unconsciousness.

“I woke up hours later at the institute.” You say, wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks, but it does little against the cascade of tears falling from your eyes. “Never saw or spoke to my family again. They didn’t even try to reach me, and I know my dad was the reason why. He hated me as soon as I presented.”

“Fucking hell.” Ghost breathes, hands curled into fists at his sides. You can smell the intensity of his scent above everything, the burning ozone of anger rolling off of him. It makes you wince, even though you know it’s not directed at you.

“That’s why he wanted to send you so quickly.” Kyle says, his arm tightening around you.

“How did he get you into FIOT so soon after your presentation?” John asks.

You shrug your good shoulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he’d be sending me, much less so soon until it was happening.”

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, gently taking your hand in his. “No wonder yer havin’ nightmares, kitten.”

“I haven’t had this nightmare since I arrived at the institute. They started there, lasted a few weeks while I adjusted to being there.” You sniffle. “Haven’t had them since, until now. Dr. Keller says it’s because I finally feel safe enough to process the trauma of it happening.”

John sits up a little straighter. “Is that why she suggested seeing you multiple times a week?”

You nod. “We’re working on it. I asked her not to tell you, because I did plan on telling you eventually.”

“I’m glad you told someone, at least,” He says. “And I’m glad you finally told us too. We might not be able to stop the nightmares, but at least now we can help support you in whatever way you need.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You say, squeezing Johnny’s hand slightly. He was the only one that knew you were having nightmares, but you hadn’t even confessed to him what was going on out of fear he’d tell the others.

“It’s alright, sweet girl.” John says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad it finally came out and now we can help you.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his thumb brushing your skin gently.

The moment is broken as your stomach growls impatiently. It’s past your normal dinner time, your confession having kept you longer than you thought it would. You hadn’t gotten in your afternoon snack either, your body having chosen to nap instead.

A small smile tugs at John’s lips. “Hungry, love?”

You nod. “Yeah. Didn’t get my snack.”

“We’ll go get some food and bring it here, how does that sound?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

He pushes himself up to stand, his knees cracking as he does. You fight the urge to say something, squeezing Johnny’s hand tightly.

“I’ll stay.” Ghost says, still looking at you.

John looks down at you and you meet Ghost’s gaze for a moment before nodding. John presses another kiss to your head, Johnny and Kyle pressing kisses to your cheeks before they get up, leaving the rec room to get dinner for everyone.

Ghost moves from his spot on the other side of the coffee table, sinking down at the end of the couch. You fight the urge to stare at him in surprise. You’re not sure you’ve seen him sit anywhere but in the chair the entire time you’ve been here.

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, aside from the occasional sniffle from you. You wipe the remaining tears from your face, removing the melted ice pack from your shoulder, tossing it on the coffee table. This feels very familiar to you, this position. You’ve been here before, back when you punched the asshole alpha who insulted you.

“My dad was a real asshole.”

You turn your head slightly in surprise when Ghost break’s the silence suddenly. He’s not looking at you, his gaze distant, far away. You know that look well. You’ve seen it on him before, and also on a few omegas at the institute. You’re sure it’s graced your face as well many times.

“He was a trad alpha, real piece of shit who couldn’t control his anger. Took it out on all of us. My mum, my brother, me.” He scoffs. “Mum took the brunt of it, but Tommy and I faced our fair share of it too. He used to bring dangerous animals home and taunted us with them. Made me kiss a snake once. He did all kinds of horrible things to us.” His voice softens a bit in a way you’ve never heard before. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, not even when he told you about his own nightmares. “I’ve never wanted an omega, because of the things my dad did to my mum. I never wanted a pack either, but...maybe something deep down in me did because I said yes to this whole experiment.”

The silence hangs heavy between you for a moment. You’re not sure what to say, or if you can even manage to say anything in response to what he’s just told you. You had no idea what his life was like growing up, except that he was also a purebred.

“I was always too afraid the cycle would continue, that I’d turn out to be another piece of shit, just like my dad.” He says.

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.” You say, your voice cracking a bit.

He huffs out a breath. “Thanks.” He stares down at the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Did your dad ever hit you?”

You shake your head. “Never directly. He got rough sometimes, grabbing us, squeezing too hard, yanking us around. He never stopped my brothers when they got too rough, though. They liked to wrestle, and I wanted to join because I wanted to spend time with my cooler older brothers. Sometimes they’d forget I was smaller than them and I got hurt a couple times. He never reprimanded them when it happened. I think he enjoyed it more than anything. He mostly just yelled a lot.”

“Trad alphas only speak the language of yelling and violence.” He says. “If my father wasn’t screaming at us, his fists were getting the message across. Sometimes he’d do both at the same time.” Ghost shakes his head. “Real pieces of shit, trad alphas. Makes me sick, the kinds of things they believe in.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You say, fishing for anything to follow up his confession with. Nothing feels right, nothing feels like enough.

He shrugs. “It happened. It’s in the past. He died a few years ago. Left nothing but a stain behind.”

“What happened to your mom and brother?” You ask.

“Tommy got into drugs for a while, but he cleaned up and got married. Mum lives with him now. Still doing well.” He says.

You’re surprised by his words. You’ve always heard that omegas don’t last long without their alphas. But what if their alpha was an asshole? Is the relief of their death enough to scrub out the grief of losing your alpha?

You stare at the side of Ghost’s head, your heart thudding in your chest. You feel sorry for him, but at the same time, you’re grateful he shared this with you. You have much more in common than you thought you did with the giant aloof alpha. Maybe, perhaps, this can be a way for the two of you to grow closer, maybe you finally have common ground that you can share with him to get him to open up to you more. You know he wants it. The revelation of his disappointment at your lack of greeting, and the fact he let you hug him is enough to tell you he wants something more with you. It might never breach the realm of romance or even a casual fling, but you can’t deny the bond is there. You can feel it, the tugging in your chest as you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach when he puts a hand on your back to steer you through the crowd in the mess.

You want him to want you. You want him to open up, to peel the layers back and bare his very soul to you. He’s already started. This confession is the beginning of that kind of bond between you. That he trusts you enough to tell you this makes something flutter in your chest.

If only he knew you were keeping something worse from him.

You could tell him. Confess to him right here, right now. Spill it all in this sort of mock confessional, this mock therapy session between you. He’ll be mad, but perhaps after everything that’s transpired today, he’ll be lenient. You’re not sure you could say the same about John, though.

“Ghost, I-” You start but he cuts you off.

“Simon.”

“What?” You breathe, blinking in shock as he turns to face you.

“My name. It’s Simon.”

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tobiasdrake · 2 days

Note

Which DBZ antagonist do you like the most?

Boring opinion, I know, but I gotta give it up for the Obvious Choice.

And I'm not just saying that because I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.

Frieza runs a real estate empire that carries out genocidal acts of gentrification, purging tracts of land of their native inhabitants so he can sell their land for profit. Commenting on this choice for his ultimate villain, Akira Toriyama stated that he made this decision because real estate speculators are the worst people there are.

Fucking based.

From the moment we meet Frieza, he is a monster. Toriyama likes this Big Guy Little Guy dynamic where the Little Guy is the one you really need to watch out for. Frieza is the Littlest Guy ever.

He's so tiny. And yet you know exactly who the most dangerous person in this group is. Zero question.

By the end of this altercation, Frieza reveals one of his signature attacks, giving us our first glimpse of the kind of person and the kind of fighter he is. This is such an important moment for his character and I'm kinda mad that the anime had Dodoria do it instead.

Muri destroys the Scouters and blinds Frieza. I've talked before at length about the devastating impact that this move and the Namekian warriors' attack has on Frieza's campaign.

But once it's done, he has to face the music. He's not getting out of this alive.

In one last desperation play, Muri tells Cargo and Dende to run while blocking them with his body. And that's when it happens.

This is Frieza.

Specifically, this is Frieza's Death Beam. It's never actually given a name, but is generally referred to as Death Beam. We've seen a move like this only once before.

The Dodonpa, signature technique of Tsuru-senryu, first introduced by the assassin Taopaipai, was built for extreme lethality. This is not a technique for fighting; It's a technique for killing.

What makes Frieza's Death Beam stand out from the Dodonpa, however, is its accuracy and its speed. He threads the needle around Muri to hit Cargo before anyone even has a chance to react.

We see its accuracy and speed again six days later, when it finally catches up to the other child fleeing from him here.

The panelwork here calling attention to everyone's reactions as Frieza's ki bullet shoots past them, as his shot threads the needle between all obstacles in his path to strike his target far behind them. Dende is dead before anyone can even process that Frieza fired.

This is the difference between the two techniques. The Dodonpa is a gun. The Death Beam is a sniper rifle. Faced with the physical hurdle of bodies impeding his path, Frieza point-clicked Cargo and Dende to death.

He later executes Vegeta this same way.

Done with you.

All of this context for Frieza's sniping shot serves to set up the stunning subversion when Goku arrives to fight.

Frieza's never seen this before. Goku shouldn't even be able to see the shots coming until they've perforated his lungs. That's how Death Beam works. It's this moment that lays it out: Frieza's about to be tested like he's never been tested before.

Speaking of cool techniques, I've always been partial to this move from his Third Form.

The anime gives Frieza little ki bullets coming out of his fingers but I want to note that we never see a physical projectile when he's doing this. Frieza jams his fingers back and forth in the air while something pulverizes Piccolo.

I've always imagined he's poking the air so fast that it's hitting Piccolo with pressurized air currents. Similar to Goku's Mazoku air current punch from the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai.

But that's just me.

In any case, Frieza's got some fun moves. He's something of a hobbyist martial artist. Which is to say, Frieza has an interest in martial arts. In addition to his Death Beam, Frieza's concocted a litany of other interesting techniques.

He even invented the Kienzan, independently of Krillin.

Though he can remote operate his Kienzan so it's strictly better than Krillin's. Frieza, in his spare time, has come up with a bunch of cool moves. Too bad he has no idea how to use them.

Frieza's greatest weakness is his inexperience. He practices martial arts the way a business CEO who bought a log splitter so he can cut some wood and feel woodsy practices agriculture. Frieza has never had a proper chance to truly experience martial arts, because he was born too powerful.

The only partner who's ever even dirtied his skin was his dad.

And even that isn't much. Frieza's too strong. He wants to pursue martial arts. He wants to hone his technique. But when you win every fight by blinking too hard in the opponent's direction, what even is there to practice?

Frieza created a transformation to seal away his immeasurable ki because he was born with so much ki flowing from him that he can't even contain it. At his peak, Frieza's ki bleeds out of him. He simply can't contain it.

Goku wonders aloud why Frieza took so long, even after the fight turned against him, to go to 100%. Frieza's been all "Oh I'm only using 10% power this is my 50% you made me go to 75%" and Goku's like, "Okay. My dude. What's this about, for real?

This, incidentally, is not a great translation. What Goku's saying here is supposed to be basically, "Perhaps when you use your full power, your body can't handle it."

He is correct.

Frieza's Full Power has a lot in common with Super Saiyan 3. His theoretical maximum ability is wildly different from the reality of what he's capable of, because he bleeds ki like it's going out of style.

So, while other characters wound up earning transformations that make them more powerful, Frieza created a transformation to seal away some of his incomprehensible ki.

Then he created a couple more because even though he could now control his strength and even manipulate the amount of ki he's releasing at a time, he was still too powerful for anyone to ever compete with and needed even more ki sealed away.

Again, not a fantastic translation from the people who brought us "bottom-tier boy", as Frieza's statement here could be interpreted as saying that he gets taken by a berserker rage or something.

What he's saying is more like, "My power is so great that I can't properly contain it."

Point is, Frieza transformed to lock down his ki and seal parts of it away, so he could control the rest better. Then he kept going, locking away more and more and more of his ki. And even at his most nerfed, he's still five times more powerful than the Second Strongest Guy in the Universe.

Frieza has never in his life had the opportunity to be pushed. That's what makes Goku so enthralling to him.

Frieza plays with Goku because he's genuinely having the time of his life. This guy can fight him in his Final Form. Nobody can fight him in his Final Form. He's so happy, he straight-up forgets that he's trying to complete a genocide against Goku's entire race.

He said that five minutes ago. Gohan's hidden power freaked Frieza the fuck out. Saiyans are too strong now. They've gotten too strong. Frieza cannot permit them to keep existing because they're getting strong. Every last Saiyan, every last one, must die. Every single one. Scorched earth, no survivors.

But then he meets a Saiyan martial artist who's a technical master and pushes him more than he ever thought possible and suddenly:

He goes from "Saiyans are TOO STRONG and they all must die because they might threaten me" to "OH MY GOD I'M HAVING SO MUCH FUN CAN I KEEP YOU!?"

It's this desire for a true rival, this opportunity to satisfy his amateur's curiosity about martial arts, that ultimately unravels him. Frieza has one ruthless and pragmatic option for ending this fight once it starts to be too much for him. He can technically stop the fight any time he wants.

But he can't bring himself to do it. He wants to fight. He wants to compete. Frieza's been on the outside looking in at martial arts for his entire life and even when his greatest fears are fulfilled and the Super Saiyan is in front of him, he wants to try.

So when he does attempt to pull his Lethal Ragequit, he pulls back at the last second. He can't bring himself to do it. Goku initially assesses that Frieza held back out of fear of hurting himself.

But later, as Frieza begins unlocking the final chains on his ki, Goku changes his assessment. Noting that if Frieza really held back simply out of a mistake, he could have shot the planet again at any point to finish the job. He's been letting this play out because he can't bring himself to end the greatest fight of his life that way.

This fight is still happening because Frieza wants to compete. I mean, he wants to win, of course, but he wants to win as a martial artist. He's never truly gotten to be a martial artist before.

He is not the guy winning the gold medal at the Tenkaichi Budokai. He has never been that guy. He's the guy who buys up the land the Tenkaichi Budokai is held on and then bulldozes all the people off of it. But in his heart of hearts, he wants to be that guy. That guy is so cool. Frieza wants to play too.

In a sense, by hosting the Cell Games, Cell got to live Frieza's greatest fantasy.

This is who Frieza is. He's the cruel and wicked heir to Genocide Realtors Inc., who is in love with the idea of being Tenshinhan - A desire that exists at odds with - and undermines - his pragmatic business sense, so to speak.

He is the most vile character in the history of Dragon Ball. The worst kind of person. He is also an overeager child whose wealth and privilege prevents him from ever truly enjoying his hobbies, to an extent that he'd be almost pitiable but for all the genocides.

And he is Dragon Ball's greatest villain.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #frieza

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cmoundiamante · 2 days

Text

MINISKIRT ✦ S.JY

OWN LITTLE P*RN STAR SPIN-OFF

DEDICATED TO my baby girl @hollyoongs ̩̩͙ ໋:

pairing professor!jake x afab!reader

summary Strict and handsome, those were the main adjectives that described Sim Jaeyun. He was quick to scold you if you did anything that went against the rules of his class, but his guilty taste could get you off the hook if you only attended to his needs.

genre smut. college!au, one shot

warnings age gap (sjy 37. reader 23), pet names (miss t/n, princess, darling, whore, slut, good girl, sunshine.), mean!jake in his professor role and when he gets mad, machist & possessive!jake (kinda), the reader’s bsf is the pornstar (duh), dirty talk, blowjob, facejob, cum eating, missionary, unprotected sex, mentions of smoke and pornography, recording videos.

a/n DID YOU GUYS MISS ME? i was absent due to personal problems, I didnt have too much inspiration to write either, but here is what u were waiting for the most 😙😙 english is not my first language so pls be kind (: any correction will be considered, not only to improve reading but also for my learning ^^ enjoy this

wc 12,2k

• this is a olps spin off, so if u didn't read it, i recommend u to do so, as in some scenes there are references to parts of my other os

1 - Respect the fulfillment of assignment deliveries in a timely manner, otherwise this will alter your report grade.

2 - Attend the class with clothing appropriate to the university context.

3 - Failure to attend classes does not excuse the fulfillment of assigned tasks.

4 - Do not attend class with any type of food or drink other than water, totally forbidden to consume food inside the classroom.

5 - The use of the cell phone is allowed only with didactic use, otherwise it will be removed by the rest of the class by the teacher.

You could swear you knew these rules by heart, but these were just a few of the many rules in the Teaching Contract that Sim Jake updated annually. Mr. Sim was your teacher from the moment you entered this university practically, because since you managed to get your scholarship there wasn't a year in which you had another literature professor, it was always him.

Your platonic love for him was fueled by trying to see him in your free time at university. Although he was a very kind man outside of school, working transformed him into a completely different person. Despite his good humour and his princely face he was a man who would not forgive you for an undone task, 50 cents on an exam, nor for breaking his rules that were in the 'light penalties' section.

Today you had completely forgotten Jake's rules again, if you thought about him, but not his damn rules. You were in math class with Professor Nishimura, who unlike Jake was much younger and much more open-minded, clearly ignored your outfit, barely noticing your presence. When he left, you were shaking with fear because you knew your world was falling apart. In the middle of the time change, you turned around to see your friend, who was a little amused watching you squirm in your chair.

"Take this." She took her jacket off her chair and handed it to you. "Cover your legs with this, I think they will catch his attention more than your shoulders." She said, referring to the white tank top you were wearing and the black miniskirt that decorated your prominent hips. Without looking back, you realized that he had arrived because the whole classroom had fallen silent. "Give it to me," you whispered, snatching her jacket out of your best friend's hands, then opening it and covering your thighs.

You arranged your hair and fixed your gaze on him, who was giving an overview of the course. The first thing he did at the beginning of each class was to walk between the desks to greet us and tell us how his day went, at the same time he made sure that everything was in order and that each of his students fulfilled the long list of "student commitments". The wind you felt when he passed by your left side gave you goosebumps and raised your body temperature, making the jacket that was between your legs already a nuisance.

Jake walked past you again, this time head-on and to your bad luck you both made eye contact, calling Jake to take a closer look at you, finding your disobedience in the set of clothes you were wearing. "Miss Y/N, can you put on your jacket, pretty please? You can't have these kinds of clothes in my class." His tone was so soft that you could do what he asked of you without a problem, but your bare legs could create an even bigger problem, but you listened to him.

You didn't know if you did it because you wanted him to see you, but you managed to get him to keep his gaze glued to your thighs for a couple of seconds. When you finished putting on your friend's jacket, Jake grabbed your shoulder and massaged it a little, when you looked at him you felt a little bad about the face he was giving you. "This will lower your concept grade." He kept walking behind you, then you kept looking at him and then gave your friend an alert glance. You were both outraged by that stupid rule, but you couldn't do anything about it so you both would just have to swallow their anger.

"Bullshit," your companion whispered. He had already scolded you and it was already certain that your grades would go down, so your friend extended her hand, implying that you should give her back her jacket, but you played dumb. "What?" you looked at her confused. "He already scolded you, give me back my jacket." "He touched it... Can I keep it?" To all this, you communicated in whispers, which luckily among the murmurs of the whole course could not be heard. "Yes, of course, as if you hadn't taken off all my clothes," she replied wryly.

"Please, when you come home I'll give you the clothes you want," you said, clasping your hands in pleading, knowing that your friend still wasn't convinced. "We don't even have similar styles." "Pretty please? If we ever drift apart, I want you to have something of mine as a souvenir." She laughed. "I'll probably burn it later." You sarcastically glared at her, whispering an almost inaudible 'you, bitch'. "Fiiiiine, keep it," she said in an even louder tone, yet you were happy to have acquired something that he had made tact with.

New day, new clothes.

This time you did have a reason to wear those kinds of clothes. When you opened your closet, you had found literally nothing. Some clothes you haven't worn in years, ripped dresses that your asshole ex-boyfriend had torn before he fucked you hard, t-shirts with horrific prints that you wore at a controversial time in your life. Among so much shit you could find a crop top and a denim miniskirt, that to hide the outfit you wore the same jacket from yesterday that you had taken from your best friend.

To all this, your only excuse was your laziness to put the clothes that were in the laundry bin to wash. Even if you put your clothes in the wash at the same time you knew you made a mistake, you were still going to go through this again, because the humid temperature of the city did not cooperate to dry the clothes hanging out in time.

You tried to get the jacket to cover at least half of your thighs, but the attempt was stupid, since you were in class and soon to hide your flesh from the sight of that teacher, who would clearly soon catch your attention again. "Miss Y/N, again?" he lowered his head, as much as that was a bad sign you couldn't help but feel excited by that move he made. "I can explain..." Your answer took a while to formulate as you wanted to speak without stuttering. "Okay, we'll talk after class then. Is that okay with you?" you gulp, and with a lump tied in your throat you nodded. "And remember..." As he spoke, he moved away from you, exposing your mistake in front of the whole course. "Your grades."

Trying to delete that embarrassing scene from your mind, class had started and you had to focus on it. For today's class, Jake had asked a text to print and bring to that same class. "Well guys, I want to believe that most of you brought the text I asked for, is there anyone who didn't bring it?" No one raised their hand, but it was obvious that he were asking to find out who should be downgraded and who should not. Luckily you weren't one of that group, as you held the paper in your hands.

"Alright, the text we're going to read today is called 'Thoughts I Never Told You', it was written by Joanne Collins, have any of you ever read it or do you know what it's about?" some 'no' was heard in a very low tone to answer Jake's question. "It is a confession written from the writer's point of view that expresses the daily thoughts that a woman has when she falls in love." With her hands decorated with some rings, she grabbed the sheet with the writing. "Who wants to start reading?" one of your classmates raised his hand and Jaeyun gave him the pass to read.

From then on your attention diminished, just following the reading without being interested in what the text said. You imagined fictional scenarios, or you just watched Mr. Sim, who was paying attention to the reading, concentrating on his sheet, which you want to be you so that he would appreciate you in that way. You lowered your gaze and managed to see how his blue shirt had the sleeves rolled up, revealing the middle of his arm that was decorated by some veins that exalted his skin. The white T-shirt he wore could show off his collarbones perfectly. Remembering his rules, he could also be the one who gets a penalty for wearing clothes that heated you in that way.

You couldn't think much more because the moment you tried to look down, he found you appreciating him. "Y/N, your turn." Your body temperature rose as you heard your name come out of his mouth. Your hands were shaking and wouldn't cooperate in being able to properly grasp the sheet of paper, so you just rested it on your desk to avoid further embarrassment.

"Sometimes I wonder what you did to keep me so mesmerized. My fingers are tired, but they wouldn't endure a night without replacing your place, giving me that feeling I want you to give me but it's probably impossible for you to give it to me." He absolutely gave you the worst part. "My body is possessed and my lower part unties crystalline threads forced to leave consequences of everything I thought about you last night. Oh, believe me, I used to see you as such a nice guy, but after those events passing in front of you was a real grief, because I had created a perspective of you that no one was going to prove to me if it was true or not." Who did this remind you of? Yes, you.

You didn't feel Jake's presence so close to you, surprising you when you found him by your side. "C’mon, keep going." This man wanted to kill you.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, my heart is pumping a thousand times an hour, my voice is cracking and making sounds that even I can't understand, my legs are shaking, my mind is dizzy. I don't know what I should do to fulfill my fantasy, I don't know if I should just love you a little less, but the desire is irresistible enough for you to leave me stranded longing for how much…” You didn't know how to read what was coming. “…my crotch calls your name."

You wanted Jake not to be looking at you and you had let yourself get carried away in the reading, never mind that some of your classmates laughed because they couldn't handle their immaturity. "Kayla, can you please keep reading?" Jake thankfully moved away from you, although you felt the temperature change because having him by your side kept you warm, the cold wind breeze made you get goosebumps.

The reading lasted the entire hour, but the class was over, indicating that it was time to talk to Jake alone. "For the next class we will do a question activity that will go into the exam, so if it’s necessary read the text again." At the end of the sentence, the bell rang indicating the time change.

"Wait for you at the exit." As you started putting your things in your backpack, you heard your friend said that behind you. Without waiting for a response from you, she withdrew with his classmates. From your desk you watched him very carefully, detecting every movement. As everyone left the classroom, he found himself closing the blinds on the windows that reflected the hallways, giving you hints that this was going to get weird. When no student was left in the classroom, only you, he closed the door.

"Come here." he sat down in his seat, manspreading, in front of his desk, which still had some of his belongings on top of it. He took off his glasses, taking that to mean that he had let you see a more youthful part of him, since although he was a man of almost 40 years old, he kept up quite well for his age.

"Explain yourself, why that kind of clothes again?" he grabbed a silk scarf and began to clean the lenses of his glasses, paying more attention to them being free of any stains than to your presence. "Well, I've had some problems with the washing machine this week and all the clothes that… cover me the most are dirty."

"Can't you borrow clothes from your friends like you did yesterday?" were you a little surprised with the advice he gave you, had he really heard everything? "Yes... But I don't understand what's wrong with the clothes." he raised his head to look you in the eye, making you feel small in front of him.

"In a school context it's not okay to dress the way you do, miss, for some reason it's in the pedagogical contract, isn't it?" you nodded. You folded your arms to try to cover yourself because of the embarrassment you had acquired from how he was talking to you, he really looked angry. "Also, personally, it's too distracting for me."

Did he really say it? Did you hear that right? Is it the same strict and innocent teacher you've had for years? Yes, he was. You were too stunned to speak. It wasn't in your plans to respond to him and he noticed, so he continued to tease you, putting on his glasses and again standing up to surround you.

"You know how I am, a perfectionist guy, I don't like not to be focused and have my classes go wrong." Jake used to speak in a very loud voice when talking in class, but when he whispered low in your ear you couldn't resist starting to melt, and not metaphorically, because a patch of moisture started to mark on your panties. "Mr. Sim..."

"Call me Jake... You don't want that either, do you?" he interrupted, making a gap of time between sentences. "No," you replied submissively, thinking that something else might happen. "Then start wearing more appropriate clothes or I'll have to rip these clothes off of you on my own. If you want to be half-naked in my class, that's how you will be." He acted naturally, as if it was normal what he had told you, he just walked away from you and started putting his stuff in his briefcase. "You can go." he ended the conversation, unaware that he had stunned you in front of him.

You quickly grabbed your backpack, and with quick steps you walked out of the classroom, slamming the door. He didn't know what was causing you, he wasn't aware of what he was doing to you.

You were really going to need a good fingering session when you got home.

His phrase was repeated in your mind over and over again, to the point of not letting you sleep. It was 5 A.M. and you kept imagining how your miniskirt was torn by him, how his fingers buried themselves in your skin leaving marks that couldn't disappear for days, his dick pushing inside you fitting perfectly to his thickness.

The fingering session was already done, but were you going to be able to look him in the eye after what happened? Of Course not.

Sleeping late paid off when you woke up at 2 p.m., clearly realizing you missed college. When you grabbed your cell phone from the bedside table, the first thing that popped on the screen were the thousands of messages from your best friend, who when you saw everything she sent you you could be a spectator of all her mood swings when she saw that you were not there. From despair to resignation.

you: im alright girl, ive jst fallen asleep

You didn't really have to do anything during the day, so you just had to decide between two options. One, lying in bed all day watching series and worrying about getting a good night's sleep. Or two, take care of your house, clean up, restock your cupboards and fridge, call someone to fix your washing machine. As the first option sounded tempting, the second was an obligation, so whether you wanted to or not you had to fulfill it.

Suddenly, in a change of weather, your house was shiny. You took the whole afternoon to leave every space in your home aesthetically pleasing. Now it was time to go to the supermarket, since your cupboards were completely empty and you were feeding yourself on deliveries.

"Everything was easier when I lived with Mom." you said to yourself. You made the grocery list as you wandered around the kitchen, seeing what was missing and what wasn't. When you were done, you put the small sheet of paper in your pocket and left your house, ready to walk the 10 blocks to the supermarket.

You had the option of calling a taxi, or even taking the bus, but you just had more fun walking and enjoying the view of the streets of your city. Regretting the outfit you had decided to go out with, the wind hit harder and it started to cool down, but you weren't going to be embarrassed on the street so you just hid, trying not to tremble even though your legs showed goosebumps.

A familiar voice rang in your ears as you waited for the traffic light to change, it was in front of you. "Miss Y/N?" Shit, it was him. "Hello, Mr. Sim." he was inside his car, clearly waiting for the light to change. "What are you doing?" his poker face was indispensable to you, it seems like forgetting everything he said to you yesterday, when you couldn't get that out of your mind. "Just gonna buy some stuff." You tried to talk as little as possible. "Do you want me to give you a ride to the market?"

"No, thank you very much, you don't have to." you shook your head with a smile, respecting the elder. "Don’t worry about it, please get in." Even though yesterday's embarrassment was still intact, you were already inside his car, and luckily he kept an eye on making sure the atmosphere was pleasant. "You missed classes today, didn't you?" the conversation began, without taking his eyes off the route.

"How do you know?" your gaze went from the window to seeing his face draw a smirk. "I didn't see you all day, plus I had to talk to your friend about the assignments she didn't turn in and she told me you hadn't come." You smiled a little at his concern, however you didn't hesitate to make a joke. "Pretty sure it was for you to scold me for the clothes I wore."

"What happened yesterday..." He clearly realized the mistake he made, and you decided to behave just like him. "Explain yourself." his face changed completely, but honestly it wasn't that you were paying attention to, it was his hands gripping the steering wheel. "It wasn't appropriate, I got angry, I'm so sorry." Even though you weren't looking at him, you could feel his eyes staring at you, showing that he was serious. But no, you couldn't forgive him when you loved what he had told you.

"Exactly, for the school context it wasn't appropriate..." He was silent. "But I don't know why you apologize when I've never told you that I was upset by what you told me."

"Isn't that comment I made offensive to a woman?" You were very close to the market, alarming you that you had to stop talking to him, but you didn't want that. "I don't remember what you told me, would you remind me?" he shook his head, parking the car in front of the market waiting for you to get out. "Come on, I'll wait for you here until you're done."

"Mr. Sim, you don't ha-" "Jake." he interrupted. "Jake, you don't have to." you insisted, to make sure that when you get home you can have the same routine you had yesterday. "I'm not going to let you go alone." Well, you admitted, it sounded cute, it made your cheeks a little red, your blood boil, and your core moist, but only a little bit.

Anyway, you got out of the car and took the list of products out of the pocket of your jacket, again the same jacket you wore for three consecutive days, because something you loved to be was outfit repeater. You needed milk, cereal, yogurt, fruit, meat, and some other things that were on the supermarket shelves. Luckily it didn't take you more than 20 minutes to grab everything and go to the checkout, where they also did everything very quickly.

You had filled two bags, which you put in the back seats of Jake's car, and then returned to your seat. "You did it fast." he had been a little startled to see you arrive again, since his attention was exclusively on his cell phone. "Yeah, I didn't want to make you wait long." He put his cell phone in his pants pocket and started the car again. "I already told you I don't care, princess." Him talking to you casually and calling you 'princess', this was your chance to start picking up those hints and returning them to him.

"I don't have to do anything now, so I can be your personal chauffeur if you want." His request didn't sound bad, but it's not like you had to do anything on a thursday afternoon. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" you shook your head, always maintaining eye contact with him. "Then let's go home." He looked at the traffic light, which turned the light green and sped up his speed. "My house?" you asked, confused by what he meant by home, to which he simply laughed. "Not your house, my house."

"For what?" was a forced but discreet invitation. "I hang out with quite a few of my students sometimes." Ouch, that meant you weren't the only one. "And it would be interesting to talk with you in my living room."

Jake got out of the car and opened your door for you to get out of the car. He lived in a building, that if you looked up it was impossible to count the number of floors it had. It already looked luxurious, but when you went to the lobby your theories that this man had a lot of money were nothing short of being true. You both got into the elevator and he pressed button number 15. You looked in the elevator mirrors to see if your makeup had smudged or if there was any imperfection on your face, and at some point you felt like Jake was giving you little glimpses.

When you left, in front of the elevator was his apartment. He took the keys out of his pants pocket and opened the door, letting you see one of his most intimate things, his home. It was quite modern inside, but you wondered if he had any special rooms in which he kept books, as any literature professor would. You started hearing footsteps in the distance, and you were terrified, until Jake said: "Layla!"

A rather large dog appeared in your field of view, overjoyed at the arrival of her owner. Jake bent down to pet her as the blonde dog licked his face to welcome him into her home. You found the scene very tender. "Come on, welcome to Y/N." he patted his tail and stood up, meanwhile he began to get rid of all the excess clothes he had, leaving only a white shirt. Then you paid attention to the dog, who was in front of you wagging her tail from side to side, finally you imitated Jake, bending down to pet her as well.

"Hey girl." she stuck out her tongue but unlike her owner, she didn't lick you. You ran one of your hands over her head and smiled as she closed her eyes to enjoy your cuddles. "Such a beautiful girl." Then you got up and looked at your teacher, who was with his arms crossed enjoying the scene reflected through his glasses.

"Do you like wine?" his question took you by surprise. "Not at all, why?" you confessed. You weren't a big fan of alcohol in general, but the scene you had in your head about what could happen tonight was something you didn't know if you could do sober, so wine could help. "I see." He started to walk and you just stood there watching him as he left, not feeling your presence near him he looked at you and made a gesture for you to follow him, so you obeyed.

His kitchen was immense, you could say it was a bit useless to have such a house when he spent more time in college than in his own home, but you weren't going to judge because he could do whatever he wanted with his money. The place had two doors, maybe you thought it could be a pantry, but two? "I have variety, some are soft, maybe you'll like them." Well, you were wrong, it wasn't a pantry, it was a winery. He opened the tinted glass door and turned on the light. The space was small, but the brown color of the shelves that held the bottles could make the space look a little more open.

"You can tell that you really like wine." Your comment made him smile. "Actually, before I started working in schools I was a sommelier." he told you, blowing your mind with his confession, you definitely needed to know more. "It's a pretty fine profession." you said, watching as Jake began to look at the bottles, occasionally grabbing one to see its brand. "What would you like to start with?"

"Choose for me, have no idea about wines." He grabbed two bottles and then both of you walked out of the cellar. In the middle of the kitchen he had a table made of marble, on which he rested the two wines and a glass. You sat and watched him uncork the wine, how his hands were so agile to have the cork in his hands in such a short time and serve you the wine in the glass in such a professional way. "What's this?"

"Oliver, Sweet red lime." handed you the cup. "It's made by concord grapes, it's pretty smooth so you'll probably taste like grape juice." You smelled a little bit of its essence, it didn't smell that bad but you did smell the smell of alcohol. "I've never drunk alcohol before." Jake laughed. "Then you would feel the alcohol." You kept pretending to take a sip. "Aren’t you gonna drink?” the cup brushed your lips, very close to the liquid touching your tongue. "Would you feel safer if I drink with you?" you nodded your head and smiled behind him as he got up from his chair to fetch another drink. When he returned, he poured himself some wine and held his glass to yours.

“Cheers” The glasses collided with each other, giving you the confidence to take the first sip, the second as well, and well... also the third. He looked at you attentively at your expressions, clearly to see if the wine had been to your taste, but you didn't pay attention to it when you finally had it looking at you as he did at the insignificant materials that had concentrated him. "What do you think?" you cleared your throat, in which the bitter taste of alcohol clearly stuck to it. "I thought it was going to be smoother, I felt the alcohol a lot."

"Do you want to try the other one?" "Let's go.", as much as you didn't like it, you took the last sip you had left to empty the glass. Jake repeated the same steps as the previous one when he opened it and again gave you the cup, and then poured himself into his glass. "This one is Purple Toad, it's quite similar to the other one but it has a particular flavor, if you guess what it is you have a prize."

“What kind of prize?” without waiting for you, Jake had already taken a sip. "You'll see later." You rolled your eyes and drank the wine, this one being much friendlier in taste. "I like this one better. It's smooth, the alcohol feels less." "Can you guess what it tastes like besides grape?" You took the last sip of the wine and stared at the glass for a few seconds, or at least until your taste buds guess the taste camouflaged in this liquid. "Blueberries maybe." "You're a pretty smart girl sometimes."

"Sometimes? Alright, what's my prize?" you felt a sexual tension in the air, but at the same time you thought you were exaggerating since you found it very difficult to fulfill your fantasies at this time of year. "Do you remember the text we read yesterday?" Your smile melted as you saw how he changed the subject so quickly. You nodded your head and without asking he grabbed your glass again to put some more wine in it, you agreed and went back to drinking some. "I felt embarrassed having to read that part in front of everyone.” you confessed, trying to sound like a claim. "You didn't look embarrassed, you narrated it pretty well." "Did I narrate it right?"

"It felt good to hear it come out of your mouth." Being a literature teacher, his vocabulary must be much more extensive and he would use words correctly and directly. But this left you even more confused. "Jake..." "You were thinking about me as you read it, weren't you?"

Should you get into him? Should you tell him everything you fantasized about or the times you sinned thinking about him? as your fingers worked hard to satisfy you from the uncontrollable desire trying to replace him. It was always him, which also didn't give you time to think about the consequences of that decision.

Jake dared to look at you after a while, you did the same. His eyes shone through a lustful gaze, as if you were the mouse and he was the wolf. "You're very obvious, did you know that?" You didn't like his game at all, you got up from your chair and started walking out of the kitchen, although since the apartment was very large you didn't remember well where you had to get out.

"Where are you going?" You didn't realize that Jake had followed you into the living room. "I can't stand people teasing me." Since he was behind you, it was easy to chain his arm around your waist preventing you from escaping, at the same time laughing at you very close to your ear. "You've got a lot of character, huh. I'll stop teasing you if you let me make you feel good." You stopped forging to break free of his grip and waited for him to keep talking, looking at him through your shoulder.

"How?" He felt how your body was relieved, the hand that was on your waist was tracing invisible patterns on your skin, which was destined for your pelvis. "Do you remember the text? 'The desire is irresistible enough for you to leave me stranded longing for how much my crotch calls your name.'" His voice kept having side effects on you, creating goosebumps for the fresh mint on his breath. "Do you think my crotch calls your name?"

"I'm not just a literature professor and a retired sommelier, darling. I know a lot about body language." You definitely liked smart men, this was turning into something else and you were enjoying it so bad. "So if I have your consent..." "Yes." you interrupted him in desperation. "Yes?" you couldn't stand being behind him and having to continue to endure his scent without being able to see him, so you turned around, raised your head to be able to look him in the eyes despite the height differences. “You have my consent.”

As much as your hands ran down his neck, he reacted much faster, placing his hands on both of your thighs and lifting you, without even applying force, looking like you were a light bag of feathers.

The first kiss you had with him felt magical, an experience never experienced before. While the guys you kissed at parties didn't do too badly. Instead, Jake, an older, experienced man, you knew he could make you feel better, that he did it better. The second kiss was passionate. It had that spark that the first one didn't have, making you surrender at his feet more than you already were. And finally, the third one, he made you understand why you were like this for him. So high by physical and sexual attraction that you suddenly felt that his lips didn't need to be on yours, but on another part of your body where the attention needed was stronger.

You didn't understand when you both entered his room. He slammed the door and with clumsy steps made his way to the bed, where he deposited your body, which was not so far from nakedness. Crop top, shorts, that stupid jacket, all very accessible so that in less than five minutes Jake has you at his disposal.

Both of you broke away from the kiss and started paying attention to each other. He took some time to look at your needy face, especially your pink cheeks, your physical build, your hair that slowly began to tousle as the action increased. On the other hand, you paid attention to his foggy glasses, his lips soaked with a thin layer of his mixed saliva, how part of his chest showed through the opening of his shirt, and above all, his hands. They were your favorite and visible part of his body. Long fingers, knuckles with a pink smudge that you loved, a good shape and above all the veins that decorated it.

You grabbed one of them and began to adore its torso. "Such veiny hands." your comment did not go unnoticed by Jake, who knew perfectly well in what sense it was going. The same hand you were holding went straight to your neck, not squeezing it, just decorating it as if it were a necklace. "Do you like veiny hands?" you nodded your head as best you could, as his hand was immobilizing you a bit, but you didn't complain. "It just makes me wonder if your dick is as veiny as your hands."

"We haven't even started and you're already thinking about my cock? You, dirty whore." Deep down you knew he liked your comment, just as you liked him calling you a whore. You'd let him degrade you and call you out in every way possible to make you his. "It's not the first time I've done it, anyway." Jake forced his hand on your neck and brought your face a little closer to attack him again with that kissing combo he had prepared for you.

Your hands lightly touched the buttons of his shirt, not at all ready to unbutton them, however soon you lost the embarrassment and his shirt was completely open, leaving his torso exposed and the necklace that decorated his body was released, slowly touching your collarbones while you panted on his lips when you felt the cold of the metal.

The hand that was on your neck, traced a line down the middle of your body, slowly going down towards the end of your crop top, which Jake didn't pull out but did lift it. "No bra, that’s why your nipples were visible." His thumb went straight to your mouth to lubricate and he began massaging your left nipple in circles, which soon became sensitized and hard. "It's what dirty whores do, isn't it?" again he pressed your lips to his to shut you up, forcing your tongue to rub against his.

Jake stood up and finished taking off his shirt, throwing it somewhere in his room, at the same time unzipping his pants as well. You watched him attentively to his movements, enjoying it as if it were a striptease, but he was not the only one who was undressing, since in a quick movement your boobs were exposed to him, who although he was busy doing something else could not help but bite his lip when he finally saw beyond your body.

Already bare-chested, he lunged back at you without dropping his full weight, tactically catching your lips again. "This is what you do with your students when you hang out with them?" as he interrupted each word, he gasped on your lips, and the sound was so delicious that you didn't need to hear it much longer to feel your folds brush against the cold, wet fabric of your panty. "Not really." didn't sound confident, but he didn't stop the physical contact. "Many of the students I hanged out were attracted to me, but none were as fortunate as you to be in your shoes." You understood his need to make you jealous, but as much as you wanted to ask him thousands of questions about those students, you simply gave him a smile.

The talk that had flowed in between the kisses caused Jake to despair, not realizing that when you kissed him again he was simply in boxers. It was melange gray, and you wanted to believe that he had put it on purpose to mark his bulge, which by the way, you thought was impossible for him to enter through your hole.

You didn't want to look desperate, so you began a trip of rubbing that started with his collarbones, ran all over his chest and abdomen, his pelvis was not missing and finally, the part you were desperate to touch. His massive dressed cock. Jake didn't push your touch away but your lips did, pulling his head back. "I barely touched it." you tease him. To contradict yourself, you wrapped your palm around his dick, unable to fully grip him because his boxers avoided gripping. "You're touching it too much right now."

From Jake's mouth came faint puffs of air and sounds that were inaudible but only your receptive core understood. "Can I ask you something?" his voice sounded so good when he was agitated. You nodded, waiting for him to speak. "Have you ever done a facejob?" you were left on the bed processing his question. You didn't know what it was until you understood why its name, handJOB, blowJOB...

"No, but I can try." You couldn't see his reaction because at the same time your eyes went to his boxers, which were no longer a hindrance and a block to see his cock. "So pretty and so willing." You were really amazed at how beautiful it was visually. His tip was pink and it was moistened by precum, you swore it could have the same texture as his lips.

"What should I do?" you asked. "Spit," Jake ordered, putting the palm of his hand in front of your mouth, you let out a spit that he used to lubricate its length. "Just close your eyes, or don't do it, the way you want, unless you want to get conjunctivitis."

"Have you done it before?" he nodded, "May I know with who?" he tugged at his member gently, grabbed your face, appreciating your doggy eyes, which for some reason made him shudder. "I don't see the need to make the environment uncomfortable by answering that question." Even though he was self-stimulating, his voice was firm and thick, not like it had been a while ago. As time went by, you became aware of his many facets.

"I don’t mind to know, just curious." His hand went down to your neck to handle you more easily. "My ex-wife." “Did she like it?" he shook his head "We tried it once and she thought it didn't feel right so it wasn't repeated, but I held out for several years without a facejob." He was dying of urgency and his face showed it, so you grabbed the hand that was pumping his dick and brought it close to your face. "Let me make you feel good then."

You lay on your back and Jake stood on top of you, exactly right next to your face. He patted his dick on your face a couple of times, unexpectedly his hand grabbed the entirety of your face, warning you to close your eyes. He kept his member clinging to your features, soaking them and keeping a gentle rhythm for the time being.

Jake, even though his head was pulled back, his eyes were still riveted on you. He let out a few giggles camouflaged with gasps because of how tender you looked trying to open your mouth to stick out your tongue and take care of the lower part of his neck. He had to capture that image, and he couldn't do it just in that moment, he needed it forever.

His pants were very close to him, so when he saw them accessible he moved his body a bit, not enough to stop pleasing himself on you but to grab his pants, where his cell phone was in his pocket. "Are you okay with me filming you?" He would talk to you while you were under him, you could barely talk but you managed to be able to answer him. "If you promise to do nothing wrong with that video." With just a few taps to the screen, he opened the camera, focusing on your face and tapping the button to start the video.

He kept expelling precum from his tip, depositing every drop on your face. You had been grateful that he had advised you to close your eyes, otherwise you might have thrown a tantrum because you felt your eyes burn. He grunted under his breath, enjoying what he couldn't in so many years.

From time to time you would open your mouth in an attempt to catch his cock with your tongue, but it was simply useless because he tried his best not to let you, even though your desperation captivated him, turning your desires into commands. His hand stopped pressing against your face and finally pulled its length into your mouth.

As you were still underneath him, there was very little ability to move that you had, but it wasn't impossible, you were optimistic and it was too hot a time for you to give up on doing something so quickly. You moved your neck back and forth trying to get your throat used to his length so you could take it all, but you were right when you thought it wasn't going to fit in your mouth.

Jake pulled it out of your mouth and started jerking it off with his hand, returning it back to the starting position they had. "You don't have to take it all if you can't." His cell phone was still in his hands, but it wasn't pointed at you. "I've taken bigger dicks." you lied, you tried to make him jealous. His was definitely the biggest you'd ever experimented with. "I just haven't fucked in months." brushed his tip over your lips. The fluids between the two of you were enough to make this scene the most disgusting you've ever seen and his member easily enter your oral cavity again.

He cut the video, throwing his cell phone to the side of the bed, and with that same hand he grabbed your head tightly over your hair to finally be able to cum in your mouth, which if it wasn't for his composure, he could not have tolerated it and would have already cum within five seconds of you having let yourself be fucked by your mouth.

Which he did, because he couldn't stand it any longer, painting your whole throat with his load. Jake grunted under his breath, growing weak because his body was shaking like jelly. Jake's face was close to yours, and you grabbed him and pulled him closer, connecting to each other with a kiss mixed with saliva and his own cum, which he clearly didn't reject.

His hand went over your anatomy again even though his mouth is close to yours. His fingers found the seam of your shorts, which soon came down at the same time as your panties. Both pieces of clothing fell to the floor, now leaving you completely exposed, unconsciously brushing his tip on your clit, which soon slipped due to the humidity that invaded it.

"Please do something?" you asked, feeling overwhelmed by every touch he gave you. "Jake I need you so much, please stop torturing me." Jake put a smile on his face just hearing your words, then he played with you by smashing his huge cock against your tense and sensitive pussy.

"What do you want?" he asked. "If you don't use words, I'll stop here." You began to gasp as you shook your head from side to side. "No, no, please." "Tell me what you want, baby girl." You thought twice about your words before opening your mouth to avoid stuttering. "Please, fuck me." your faces were so close that you could still smell the grapes and alcohol that his mouths expelled. "Make me yours."

"You were mine a long time ago." That phrase was sensual enough to captivate you again and attack his lips in response, at the same time you felt how the space of your entrance was replaced by his length. A sudden moan vibrated between the lips of the two of you, but unfortunately his dick didn't go all in at once.

"You're going to take it all," you nodded desperately, gasping for breath as his cock moved and filled you completely. But no matter how small your hole is, you couldn't refuse his requests, you had to do what he told you and get your pretty pussy used to his size. One of his hands met one of your breasts by surprise, causing your nipples to stiffen no matter how hot Jake's hand was.

"Jake.." you groaned, not knowing that you were causing him crazy by talking to him like that. You were so lubricated by your natural fluids that it became easy for Jake to move inside you, and in turn bury himself deeper into you, finally making his entire member occupy your cunt. "Just like that.. Fuck."

You threw your head back when you bit your lip, but it was in vain, for every thrust caused countless incoherent gasps to come out of your mouth. He still didn't do it to the point of making you scream and cry, even though he looked like he fucked like that. It was still a pleasant pain, but never experienced before.

"You can tell you're enjoying this." Your eyes rolled back as I increased the speed. Out of inertia, your hand grabbed the arm with which it was held so as not to drop all his weight on top of you, squeezing his bare muscle leaving your nails marked. "Fuck yeah." you couldn't stop squealing and you really felt on the edge, Jake had noticed it by how your walls squeezed him, making him very close to painting your gummy walls white as well.

The force he applied gradually became more abrupt, although, actually it wasn't necessary to make you hot, as his entire presence made you blush and drip. "How much did you want this?" growled Jake over you. The thrusts continued at his pace, but it seemed to you that it was something you could no longer contain.

He finally did. He brought all of its length into you.

"A lot." incomprehensible. "I don't hear you, pretty. Say it again," he ordered. His other hand went to your naked clitoris, which was hard and tender from the heat you had picked up since you arrived at his house. "I've waited a long time for this." Jake couldn't stand much either, because the movements of his hand were silly and he kept fucking you like a fucking beast.

You didn't help him much either by moaning at him how much you wanted him. Your body trembles, your mind becomes dizzy, it is impossible to speak or do anything in this state of madness, so finally his hand was covered by a glowing layer of poisonous lust. The humidity helped him to make his movements frequent, the heat of your cave made him finally discharge inside you.

When he came out of you, you were finally able to take the first breath of air so that you could regulate yourself. Jake kept his gaze on your shiny pussy, which for some reason was acting in the same way you did, expelling from your hole what Jake had left inside.

You threw your head back and stopped feeling tense, closed your eyes and discovered what calm was. "How do you feel?" you kept your eyes closed but you felt the mattress sink next to you, letting you know that Jake had lied down with you. "Did you like it?" you shuddered to feel him so close to your ear, but it also made you laugh.

"It felt really good Jake" you opened your eyes to see him. He was sweating, that shiny layer that abounded on his face premonished more on his lips, making them look more pompous. And of course, more kissable. "This will make you forgive me for wearing miniskirts?"

Apparently you know how to manifest or something like that, but Sim's lips again connected with yours. "You know I love your miniskirts." He said between kisses. "Why do you get angry when I wear them?" "I don't want people to see you dressed like that." He stopped kissing for a second to get a good look at you closely. "If you come here, I don't have a problem with you to wear them." You laughed at his jealousy scene.

"But I want you to know that will still lower your grades." He got out of bed and started looking for his boxers. You tried not to laugh when you saw that he still a little bit hard, feeling dirty about it. "Jake, come on.” You leaned on your arms and watched Jake as he put on his boxers. "When you learn to dress properly, I will forgive you. Now, ass up sunshine, let's go to sleep."

You woke up early, so early that you could find Jake still sleeping peacefully. His arm was wrapped around your entire body, and the force he exerted on you made it impossible for you to break free from his grip. You managed to pull out an arm, which you used to grab your cell phone and see the time, 5:30 A.M.

When you were finally able to get out of bed, you get dressed again, making sure you didn't make too much noise so you wouldn't wake him up. You saw him for the last time, appreciating how he pouted as he let out little snores, thinking he looked very cute that way.

You ran away from his department, thankful he didn't notice. When you left the apartment you felt that it was still night, as it was dark and there was absolutely no one roaming the streets at that time. Then you remembered that you had both come here by car, and you realized that your house was too far away to walk alone, so you simply asked for an uber.

The minutes passed, you had already checked instagram, tiktok, twitter, snapchat, and still the cell phone bored you, all because the damn uber didn't arrive. 6 A.M., at this point you imagined that Jake had already woken up and realized that you had practically disappeared, you had also realized that you were already late for college, since at this time you were about to leave your house to catch the bus.

Fortunately, as the sun reappeared, the uber teleported in front of you as if by magic trick. You opened the door and without greeting the driver told him your home address and handed him some bills, no matter the cost.

You rushed out of the car, already prepared with the keys in hand to open the door and close it behind you, not worrying about locking it again. You were thankful that you could live alone, because the noise you were making was something your parents couldn't stand. You undressed and grabbed the first pieces of clothing you saw, you didn't really care anymore if it was provocative clothes or not, you just wanted to wear something suitable for college.

You went to the bathroom and tied your hair up to grab a makeup remover towel and start pulling out the tears with mascara that had left traces of what happened last night, while you were rushing to leave your face clean, you couldn't help but smile a little from the flashbacks. As much as your face had turned red from the force with which you rubbed your face, you didn't care, with the ponytail and your face fresh, you grabbed your backpack and left your house, this time remembering to close the door properly.

You were walking fast to get to the bus stop, which just got there and parked to let some people in. You paid for your ticket and found a window seat to sit on, which is where you left off for the rest of the trip.

You had a two-hour trip to college, so you decided to lay your head on the glass and sleep. The silence of the people showed that they were in the same situation as you, just woken up, not wanting to talk, not wanting to work, not wanting to do anything, so on the other hand you were grateful for the peace to be able to concentrate on being able to coincide with the dream.

The sun's rays went straight into your eyes, but that wasn't the only thing that woke you up, it was also the realization that you had to be on time for your classes. You turned on your phone and panicked. 7:50, you had only ten minutes. You clutched your head in frustration, trying not to rip it off, metaphorically.

In the midst of the desperation to get there early, your best friend sent you a message.

bitch🪽: bitch, where the fuck are u now?

you: IM OMW

you: i just woke up, i wasn't home and i fell asleep late last night

bitch🪽:where have u been?

you: …

you: wait for me to get there

You thought the bus driver would do everything he could so you didn't make it to your first class.

When you arrived in the classroom, Jake's disapproving look on you was something you couldn't help but feel intimidated by, even knowing that you had left him completely alone after everything that had happened last night. "Did you see the time, miss?" You shrugged your arms melting in shame. "My apologies, sir." Jake kept looking at you, but you broke eye contact to go sit in your seat. You did your best to get your things ready and then turn to look at your friend. "I did something wrong yesterday." Her face showed confusion. "But I don't regret about anything."

"What? Did you kill someone?" the way she exaggerated made you shake your head. "Bitch, you didn't tell me anything, what have you done?" you looked sideways, not only paying attention to your classmates, but particularly to the teacher, who for the moment, was not looking at you, feeling relieved. "Professor Sim." your friend's face changed flatly, "Girl, don't tell me that-" "I slept with him." She opened her mouth, but you didn't know exactly if her face showed happiness, surprise, or disapproval of sleeping with someone twice your age. "If I could do it, so could you."

"Nah, he's yours, thank you so much for the offer anyway." "Who told you it was going to be with Jake?" you didn't realize that you raised your voice, catching some glances from your classmates, who were just looking at you like a weirdo. You didn't realize it, but you were hoping that someone didn't listen to you. "I've seen you look at Professor Park during class," you whispered and smirked. "You eat his bulge with your eyes."

Your partner laughed a little. "Maybe... Anyway, it's just an erotic desire." The two of you were shameless to talk about these kinds of topics in public, but you were both willing to break the taboo. "If I were him I'd fuck you, you're too sexy just to exist." The wry compliment you said served to turn his cheeks red. "You flatter me."

"Okay, speaking about Sunghoon, how are you doing with your studies?" You saw her take her stuff out of her backpack while you talked to her, so you took it as advice and started doing the same thing before class started. "I have it under control, but I have a question about some concept." "You already have an excuse to go see him today." You recommended her, knowing full well that he would do it later. Jake's voice echoed throughout the classroom, creating goosebumps, when you turned to pay attention to his class, you were slowly melting in your seat because of how his eyes looked at you, you felt like daggers were coming out of them and they were digging into your skin, because something you knew, It's just that wasn't a look from someone who's happy.

You'd reaffirm it to yourself mentally, you were fucked up.

"How many questions will your exam have?" It was the beginning of the week, while Sunghoon was with his computer corroborating some excels, Jake was near the window facing the outside, smoking a cigarette. "Ten." The atmosphere was quiet despite how Park pressed the keyboard. "There will be seven development questions and three activities." "Can I see?" Jake took his last puff on his cigarette and then threw it out the window, so that it would fall, only God knows where. He walked over to where Sunghoon was centered and lowered his torso slightly so that he could properly see the questions.

What Sunghoon had shown him was a Google docs, and Sim inadvertently diverted his gaze to the bar of pages that Sunghoon had open. "Daddy cums harder... Pussy squirting..." As Jake continued reading, Sunghoon closed the window, showing only the excel presentation, despite his poker face Jake knew him well enough to know he was embarrassed. "I can't believe you have those pages open when you're working."

"It's none of your business, Sim." Jake smiled as he saw Sunghoon's face turn red, it seems like they never had this kind of conversation. "You know I watched that video what you recommended me." Jake moved the chair next to Sunghoon, sitting up and spreading his legs to get into a comfortable position. "What are you talking about?" Sunghoon's eyes were protected by the lenses of his glasses, which did not detach from the screen, but one of his skills was multitasking. "SluttyMila... Did you see her last video?" Jake managed to stop this from being so, Sunghoon's eyes quickly moved to Jake's figure upon hearing that name.

"No, why?" As he waited for Sim's response, his fingers worked on the computer to open google again and search for the Pornhub account. "It's impossible that you didn't watch it, if it became viral." When he opened the page he found the thumbnail in which he was a participant, he tried not to smile at this so he just licked his lips. "It's fucking insane, you have to watch it." Looking at the statistics, he understood what Jake meant.

48M views. 368,7k Likes. 42k Comments.

"I'll watch it when I get home." He was definitely going to do it. It doesn't matter that he starred in it, that he was there to live it, he needed to see that moment from the perspective of an observer. However, it was work time, even though he had been carried away by lust several times, his co-worker was there with him, although he knew him too well to know what was so morbid that perhaps he would be able to jerk off with him in college.

"Do you have to teach later?" Jake shook his head, staring at the ceiling. "I have an hour to spare, I think I'll be left alone scheduling the next class for course C." Jake got up from his chair to go get his briefcase, which when he opened it took out one of the perfumes he carried everywhere, Jo Malone Blackberry & Bay, to cover up the smell of tobacco that had permeated his clothes. "What about you?" Sunghoon's response was immediate, turning off the computer and putting it in his briefcase, then getting up from his chair and heading for the door. "Course A." Exactly, your course.

Sunghoon said goodbye to Jake, leaving him completely alone in the professors room. He had nothing to do, so he simply spent some of his time looking out the window, to the school corridors, until he saw some students loitering. He got up from his seat and opened the door, looking in the direction of both boys, who were astonished to see Jaeyun in the doorframe, characteristically not at his best.

"Don't you have a class to attend, guys?" his voice demanded authority from the frightened looks of both guys. "Y-yes.. I'm sorry," one of them replied. "What's your course?" asked Sim. The guys looked at each other as if to say 'we're fucked up'. "Course B." Without having to say a word, Jake watched the young people vanish from his sight, but the presence of another figure walked in front of him, recognizing who it was and forcing her by his arm into the professors room.

He wasn't aware of the force he applied to your arm, causing you to complain a bit about the pain it had caused. "Jake, that hurt." "Why have you been ignoring me since Wednesday?" he asked authoritatively. Since Jake had treated and looked at you that day, you hadn't liked him at all, even though you knew it was partly your fault for leaving him alone that morning, but you didn't want to face him again. "I'm so sorry, I'm just..." interrupted you. "Give me a reason to know why you left me alone." You had a hot face with embarrassment, staring at the floor tiles because you couldn't look him in the eye, so he just grabbed you by the chin, not putting much force like he did when he grabbed your arm, and forced you to look at him.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" it was in vain what he did, for likewise your dilated pupils remained over the buttons of his shirt. "You don't..." "Then tell me why." "I was embarrassed of what I did." You swallowed hard for lying to him, knowing inwardly that you didn't know why you had done it. "Embarrassed of what?" Jake's hands let you go, now moving away from you to leave you standing trembling as he enjoyed it from a different point of view. "Maybe because not every day I sleep with someone 14 years older than me." to Jake's ears your answer was believable, taking him by surprise because he was also smart enough to know your body language.

"You're a young lady, that doesn't take away from the fact that you're an adult." Jake grabbed the chair he had previously sat in and rested his ass on it again. You watched him move through space, standing still at the only point where you felt comfortable at the time. "Why don't you come here and apologize? You must be mature enough to accept your mistakes." Little by little you moved, around the table and in front of him, keeping your eyes down to look him in the eye. "How can I get you to forgive me?" "Get on your knees." your knees made contact with the floor, however it didn't hurt as much because they were padded by your jeans.

"Wanna know something?" you spoke, as Jake's hand caressed your cheek. "I felt bad about how you looked at me the other day." Jake chuckle underneath, letting out a voice you hadn't heard before, an even deeper voice. "Do you know how bad I felt when you left me in my bed all alone?" To all this, his fingers were still massaging your face, but neither of you was happy. "Being embarrassed is not the same as being a dick." But his hand advanced to the nape of your neck and grabbed your hair, unconsciously you moaned. "Believe me, I have no bad intentions with you, but you make it so difficult for me."

"Do I make it hard for you?" his eyes became so connected that they even electrocuted. "Do I make you hard?" you smiled, feeling Jake's hand loosen your hair, freeing you from his grip. As much as you had his crotch in front of you, it was impossible to see his erection because of his black pants, so you just went up your hand down his legs until you reached his bulge, confirming that yes, he was hard. "You're so disgusting that you don't even ask for my consent." Your mischievous hand made its way to the zipper of his pants, pulling them down and brushing the fly against his painful erection. "You're so disgusting that you don't even mind getting a blowjob at your workplace." Jake licked his lips.

"Who's going to give me a blowjob?" he asked, his lips half-parted. “Me” Without warning Jake's cock was already on the outside, being connected to his boxer by those sharp threads of precum, which were still shooting out of his tip. Jake didn't even stop you, he just looked you in the eye and without saying a word gave you the green card, shaking his head signaling you to start your work.

You were so right. He was a pervert, a disgusting, a completely pathetic man for letting you do this to him in the place where he's supposed to be working. His elbow rested on the table and the hand of that same arm was in charge of supporting his face preventing any kind of sound from coming out of his mouth.

And perhaps he, too, was ashamed for letting a woman much younger than him do this to him, knowing that he could not be satisfied with any woman his age. Not even his ex-wife made him feel this way, so he could spread his legs all day long while you kept your mouth busy making him feel the way he deserved after a long day at work.

Your tongue worked wonders on his dickhead. You knew that he wanted you to go deeper, you could tell by how he looked at you and how he refrained from straining with his hand, he only held your hair to avoid making a curl.

You were going to do whatever you wanted with him, after all, his body language is not an order.

Jake felt his tip throbbing, causing him to growl and close his eyes very tightly and tremble in your presence. "You're doing amazing." He didn't know how to support himself. His head was asking him to stretch back and his pleasure was asking him to keep watching your tongue intertwine in his length. It was even better than watch porn.

Every thought that was going through his head vanished when you finally decided to put a small part of his cock in your mouth. "Even smaller than your tiny dripping pussy, huh?" he said with little force, as he was using it to hold himself in the armrest of his seat.

It didn't even take much effort to get it all the way into your mouth, apparently for Jake it was enough, as his trembling was the warning you had ignored, causing threads of cum to be deposited in your mouth out of nowhere.

Finally, when his charge finished releasing his insides, his hand gently held your chin to force you to look at him. "Swallow it." It took you a while due to your throat still hurting, but you made it, making Jake give you a smile for pleasing him. "You look beautiful with your teary eyes, my sunshine"

At the end of the session, you got up and after this you played a little with Jake, giving him kisses, talking about other subjects.

You missed Professor Park's class, but it was worth it. When the hour passed, you tried to leave but Jake stopped you before you tried to do anything. "Y/N."

"Tell me." You turned your gaze to him. "Do you think you could wait for me in the parking lot?" you saw him curious, waiting for him to keep talking. "Would you come to my house again? Please."

You didn't think twice before speaking again. "Okay, I'll wait for you there, Jae." Jake waited for you to walk out the door so he could weaken himself by the nickname you had given him.

Now your best friend was throwing a tantrum. "Who are you going to go with if not with me?" you felt her jealousy, but you also left laughing at how angry she looked. "Someone's waiting for me."

"Who?" she said, almost shouting, surprised by your confession. "Don't tell me it's..." With what you had told her the other day, it was noticeable that she had already realized who the person you were referring to was. You smiled shyly. "Well, actually I have something to tell you too."

Both made it all the way out of college. You were going back inside to wait for Jake, but you were willing to accompany your friend so she wouldn't be alone. "What happened?" Your friend gave you a big hug, what she usually does before saying goodbye to you, and she didn't say anything, until long seconds later when you saw her walking away to get to the bus stop. "Mr. Park. Check your messages later." You opened your mouth in surprise. From how stunned you were, you could only watch your friend laugh and pick up her pace, doing nothing else. You clearly understood her comment.

Sometimes the best friends’ connection can lead them to have the same anecdote without the other knowing about it.

As surprised as you are, you had something pending. You walked back into the university, specifically in the parking lot. The truth is that you expected Jake to be out of his car waiting for you, but you realized that he wasn't when the luxury car in front of you honked at you, startling you. Even though the windows were tinted you could see a handsome man through them, which made you approach the car and open the door to get in.

"Look at the back seat." Not a 'hello', not a 'how are you?', just orders like the ones he used to give. "They're for you." Seeing the back, you saw a piece of silky but rough, shapeless paper. You grabbed it and turned it over and realized it was a bouquet of flowers. A set of daisies, tulips and lilies, with a letter inside. It gave off a very intense smell, which you liked, you couldn't help but bury your nose in it. "Thank you so much." Jake didn't see you, but you could see him, being privileged to visualize his beautiful smile. "I chose them thinking of you. I'm glad you like them."

My lord, it was impossible for this man to let your breath rest for at least a second.

Before you knew it, they were already down the middle of the street on their way to Jake's house. "Did something happen to your friend? I saw that she was grumbling when you walked with her," he asked. "It's just that we always wait for the bus at the bus stop together," he chuckled. You looked out the window as you continued to smell the scent of flowers brushing against your nose. "This time you also told her that you went with me?"

You raised an eyebrow. "What?" "You two are very loud in class, I think you should speak more quietly." Jake wasn't looking at you, but he could feel the heat you radiated from embarrassment. "Jake, what the fuck did you hear?"

He cleared his throat, "I did something wrong yesterday... But I don't regret abo-" Jake couldn't hold back his laughter as he did his impression, and you didn't let him finish, as you punched him to shut him up. You left the flowers in your lap and looked out the window to avoid making eye contact, even though you were still a little tempted by how Jake had spoken.

"Girl, don't get mad." His voice was distorted because his laughter was still intact. When he finally calmed down he saw that you were still looking out the window, he ran his eyes back to the road and placed his hand on your thigh, which gave you goosebumps. "How about we go out to dinner tonight?" You felt his thumb move back and forth, finally getting you to look at him.

"Together?" Jake nodded. "You don't have to do this just to fuck me properly." You felt like he was joking. "I don't need a luxury dinner to fuck you properly. Besides, that wasn't in my plans, I just wanted to hug you and fall asleep next to you."

You smiled at the calm tone I use to tell you. "Are you serious?" Jake, again, nodded. "Well, you could suck me off..."

He kept one hand on the steering wheel, and hearing those words come out of your mouth, he lightly squeezed the thigh he was holding. "Okay, but only tonight."

– taglist ₊ ˖ ་. @hollyoongs @sunoozznn @sansluvr @simhinata @addictedtohobi @isylvr @gimmeurtummy @japieeey @tasnim10 @rikiwaify-blog @yohanabanana @kenzory @lilyuwon @xiaoderrrr @seochannnn @sumzysworld @enhalover12 @loljaeyunz @belowbun @hearts4itoshi @literallyags @antivenus @linfluenza @wonlvkay @skylaly @whatchulookin2 @river-demon-slayer

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nicksbestie · 1 day

Text

Next Level - M. Sturniolo

Summary : the one where you just want your boyfriend to get off of his game, and he makes you a deal.

Warnings : 16+ content. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, pet names (baby)

Word Count : 3017

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : idfk blame someone else for this

You were potentially the most bored that you had ever been in your entire life.

Yes, you were being incredibly dramatic, but your boyfriend had ceased giving you attention and hanging out with you in favor of playing round after round on whatever video game of the day was pulled up on his monitor. It was so frustrating, and you were a clingy person, so that just made it worse. You had come over to spend time with your boyfriend, not to just watch him focus on something else. You had tried playing with him, losing multiple games, winning a couple, before you had gotten bored and moved to relax on his bed. You’d been quiet and patient up until about now, because you didn’t want to bother him, and you did love seeing him do things that he enjoyed, but you were starting to get annoyed.

You abandoned his room in favor of going down to the kitchen to get something to drink, finding Chris and Nick sitting on the couch, some show playing in the background, and Nick was swiping through Snapchat stories on his phone. They already knew you were there, having spent time with both of them when you had arrived a few hours prior to now. You sat down with them both, opening the lemonade you had stolen from their fridge. You didn’t speak, also on your phone for a couple of minutes before Chris looked up, nudging Nick to get his attention.

“Do you think Matt will drive us somewhere? I want to go get a slurpee.”

You laughed, responding before Nick could.

“He’s fixated on his stupid video game, I doubt he’ll want to go anywhere.”

“Is that why you’re down here and not up there with him?”

You nodded, continuing to scroll through social media while the two brothers decided if they wanted to ask Matt or not. Finally, Nick turned to you.

“Can you go ask? He’s more likely to say yes to you than to us, and now that Chris has mentioned it, I want to get one too.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but got up to go upstairs to ask him anyways, knowing more than likely your boyfriend would say no. Walking back into his room, Matt glanced up at you, looking back to his screen after acknowledging who had come into the room.

“Nick and Chris want to go get slurpees, they wanted to know if you would drive them.”

Matt shook his head, eyes never leaving the monitor, fingers never pausing their movements on his controller.

“Nah, I don’t want to go. Tell them to order an Uber or something.”

You sighed, sitting back down on Matt’s bed to text those words to Chris and Nick, not feeling like walking up and down the steps again for such a short message. After reading Nick’s response of a rolling eyes emoji, you threw your body back and laid down, exhaling deeply, waiting on Matt to pay you even a sliver of attention. You were tempted to leave, go get slurpees with the two other brothers, but at the same time, you really did love and miss your boyfriend. About fifteen minutes went by, and Chris texted you to let you know that they were leaving, asking if you were both sure that you didn’t want to come, and you replied saying that no, you two would stay here.

You only let about another five minutes go by before you waved a hand in front of Matt’s face, refusing to let him ignore you any longer. He pulled his headset halfway off, to where one ear was exposed, so that he could hear you.

“What’s up, baby?”

You sighed, slightly pouting.

“You’ve been on that game forever, and you’ve been ignoring me.”

Matt gave you a soft smile, standing up to kiss you before sitting back down.

“Just let me get through one more level, and I’ll turn it off for the day.”

You rolled your eyes, turning around to go sit back down.

“Sure you will.”

He caught your wrist as you tried to move away from his desk, turning you back towards him.

“Hey, watch the attitude.”

He kissed the back of your hand, smiling at you.

“You’ve been waiting a while, I know. Nick and Chris have already left, right?”

You nodded, confused at what his brother’s presence, or lack thereof, had to do with your current situation.

“Okay. So let me get through this next level, and I’ll go down on you until you cry. Deal?”

You couldn’t say that the suggestion that came out of Matt’s mouth didn’t affect you. It had been a little while since you and him had done anything, conflicts with filming and work, traveling, and when you were free, people were home. So sure, maybe part of your boredom and attitude was due to pent up desire, but who could blame you? There was only so much relief you could get on your own, and nothing compared to Matt’s skills. Matt noticed how your eyes widened slightly and your cheeks flushed, and an arrogant smirk crossed his lips. One of his favorite things was to go down on you, and you couldn’t deny the fact that you felt the same about it.

“I figured you would like that offer. Just this last level, okay?”

You swallowed, nodding, pulling your arm from his grip and going back to laying on his bed. You picked up your phone, trying to appear unaffected, but Matt knew you better than that. He could see you in the reflection of the dark screen on the second monitor, and he could see you shifting how your legs were laying every so often, trying to ignore how the thoughts he had planted in your head were affecting you. He loved how easily he could work you up, something he had often taken advantage of, and he smiled to himself at how suddenly you had developed so much patience.

Matt intentionally lost the level multiple times in a row, wanting to see just how far he could push your patience. He knew that you wouldn’t push him back, so he wanted to see just how needy he could get you to be. So he continued to lose, to set himself back, to find any way to make his promise take longer. He was enjoying watching you grow desperate way more than he should have, noticing you look up at him and his screen pretty much every thirty seconds to see if he had completed the level yet. The thought of what he was going to do to you was making him struggle to focus on the game, so he decided to stop intentionally losing and not make you wait for him any longer. This level wasn’t difficult, and it wasn’t long before he completed it, turning off his screens and removing the headset in favor of setting it on the desk.

Turning around and getting out of the chair, Matt abandoned his desk, laying down with you and taking your phone out of your hand. You let him, both of you knowing that you hadn’t really been paying attention to it anyways. Excited to finally have your boyfriend’s full attention, you pulled him in for a kiss, it starting off gentle and sweet. He broke the kiss after a couple of seconds, smiling at you and used his hand on the side of your cheek and jaw to guide you into another one. There wasn’t any effort on your side to gain dominance of the kiss, Matt easily controlled it, deepening it and swallowing any sounds that left your lips, smiling against your mouth when you both paused to breathe.

“I think I have a promise to make good on, don’t I?”

You nodded, gasping quietly when Matt moved his kisses down to directly under your jawline, teeth gently tugging on the skin, enough to leave marks on you, but not enough for those marks to last longer than a day. The hand that had previously been on the side of your face was tangled in the back of your hair, gently pulling on it, moving your head to give him more access. It wasn’t long before he was hovering over you and had left a trail of blooming marks under your jaw and on your neck. Small whimpers were leaving your lips, and he kissed you, full of passion, enjoying the way you reacted to his movements. One of his hands gently caressed your side, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

You didn’t respond verbally, simply removing your hands from his hair and face to tug your shirt off, allowing him to help you. Matt’s hands immediately moved up to unclasp your bra, getting it off as quickly as possible, before moving to lay kisses down your torso. It seemed like he was somehow touching you everywhere at once, which you logically knew wasn’t true because he only had two hands, but you swore you could feel him on all parts of your skin. He moved a hand up to roll your nipple between two of his fingers, smirking at the loud whimper you let out, before moving his other hand down to the band of your sweatpants, silently asking for your permission for him to take them off. You lifted your hips, whispering your consent, sounds still leaving your lips because he hadn’t paused his ministrations, his mouth attaching to your other nipple, the attention on them both causing you to whine.

He only stopped the movements of his hands to remove your sweatpants from your legs, but he didn’t move downwards. He moved back up to kiss you again, both of his hands holding the sides of your face. Using his leg to spread yours, he swallowed the loud moan that left your lips, as the shifting of his body had caused his knee to press directly against where you needed him most. He smiled against your lips, loving how vocal you were, increasing the pressure slowly until he felt you shift your hips downward to meet his leg. He removed his knee, hearing your whine of disappointment, moving his body down between your legs, using his hands to spread them this time, from where you had clenched your thighs around his knee.

“Patience, baby, I’ll give you what you want.”

He left kisses and hickeys on your inner thighs, so close that you could feel his breath over your panties. When he was satisfied with the marks that he had left on your legs, he gently pulled them off of your legs, kissing even closer, smiling at the way that you pushed your hips closer to him. He took one arm and laid it over top of your hips, holding you down.

“Matt, stop fucking teasing.”

He shook his head at the attitude in your voice, but he knew you wouldn’t be giving it to him for long. He kissed right above your clit before giving in, his tongue beginning to form small circles on it, and he could have cum on the spot when he heard the shaky breath that left you at the feeling of relief after having to wait so long. He alternated the amount of pressure he was using, before pulling off completely and moving to lick a stripe from your entrance back up to your clit, loving the way that your thighs clenched around his head. He pushed them back open before attaching his lips to your clit, gently sucking, causing your hands to tug harshly on his hair as you let out moans and whimpers. He tried to remove his face from between your legs, but you pushed him impossibly closer, and instead of fighting you, he simply formed tight figure eight motions with his tongue on your clit.

By this point you were so wet, and Matt’s mouth and chin were covered in the evidence of your arousal. He always ate you out like he was starving, and it was always messy, but you never complained. How could you, when it gave you some of the best orgasms you’d ever have? You could feel it starting to build in the pit of your stomach, and it only became more intense when Matt ran two fingers through the wetness between your legs before easily pushing them into you, expertly curling them. He knew your body like the back of his own hand, so not only did he know that you could take two at once, he knew exactly where to move and where to press to have you squirming.

His ministrations were confident, and you were predictable, your head immediately going back the second that his fingers curled perfectly, him only being able to see the white of your eyes while his tongue and fingers caused your thighs to shake around his head, your climax building quickly, and Matt could tell, just from the noises you were making and the way you were clenching around his fingers. He pulled his mouth off, increasing the speed of his fingers, kissing you roughly before speaking.

“Doing so good for me, baby.”

“Matt, fuck, please-”

He placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing tight circles with a firm amount of pressure, adoring the way that your back arched now that you were no longer being held down.

“I know, baby, I know.”

He replaced his thumb with his mouth, the suction sending you off into space. He could hear your moans getting higher in pitch, and your thighs were clamping around his head. Your hips were bucking against his face, your eyes screwed shut as his free hand reached up and applied pressure to your lower stomach, and that was it. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, jaw hanging open in a loud whine, Matt not stopping any of his movements as he pleasured you through your high. He stopped when your breathing began to stagger roughly, kissing you sweetly as you panted against his lips. He kissed you until you calmed down, until your chest stopped heaving, and then he ran his hand back down and gently drew slow circles on your clit, kissing your forehead as you whined and tried to bat his hand away.

“I can’t, too much.”

He just gave you a pitying smile, not moving his hand. If anything, he picked up his pace, listening to you whimper against his neck.

“Oh, but I promised you’d be crying, baby. I have to make good on that, don’t I?”

You couldn’t formulate a response, just a low whine leaving you as he added more pressure.

“You can give me one more.”

And with those words, he went back to having his head between your thighs, his fingers on his free hand gently tracing patterns on the inside of your thighs. You were so sensitive, not ever having been one for overstimulation, but the incredible pleasure that rolled through your body overwhelmed every small spark of pain, causing you to not want Matt to stop after all. Being so sensitive, you were so much more reactive, and when Matt pulled the same move of curling his fingers right into your sweet spot, you let out a loud sob, and you could feel another orgasm beginning to build. It was much quicker than the last one, but with Matt absolutely assaulting your clit, and his fingers roughly massaging that perfect spot inside of you, you knew you would never be able to hold it off.

The oversensitivity caused tears to build in your eyes, and you got to the point of desperation that you were attempting to ride Matt’s face, hands tightened in his hair again, keeping him pushed up against you, chanting his name like a prayer as you tipped over the edge for a second time that night. Matt did the same thing that he did the first time, working you through your orgasm, and it was the added stimulation paired with the unbelievable high you were already on that caused tears to stream down your face, eventually pushing Matt away from you when it got to the point that you couldn’t handle it anymore. He knew when it was too much for you, and he pulled off, the fingers that had just brought you to your finish now in his own mouth, and if you could go again, you would have at just the sight.

It didn’t take Matt long to pull you into his arms, wiping the remnants of tears off of your face. He didn’t move you too much, but he helped you drink out of the bottle of water that had been on his nightstand. You laid there, still slightly out of breath, enjoying the close company of your boyfriend and the gentle kisses he was pressing on the top of your head. It wasn’t until Matt adjusted his body slightly against you that you realized he was still hard.

“You didn’t-.”

He didn’t even humor the statement, cutting you off by just shaking his head and holding you against his chest.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve got my full attention, baby. I’m fine.”

The soft aftercare that Matt always gave you was top tier, complete with food, a warm bath, and endless cuddles. He always spent a lot of time making sure that you were completely taken care of and felt okay before he even thought about himself. Checking Matt’s phone, you noticed a text from Chris that had come in thirty minutes ago, letting you know that they had decided to stop at another store before coming home. Neither of you replied, but you both assumed that meant you didn’t have much more alone time left. So Matt helped you back into clothes, knowing that you were tired, and you ended up dressed in an entire outfit of his. The two of you weren’t even awake when they got back, falling asleep wrapped up in each other’s presence.

taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0

@sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

@dazsha19 @patscorner @hailee22sstuff @tworosesblackthorn @h3arts4harry @getosuckers @knhxa @scoobydoosnack

@tapesmatts @st7rnioioss @st7rnioiossblog @jamiesturniolo @sofie-1 @muwapsturniolo @graysturns @certifiednatelover

@bitchydragonparadise @haunted-headset-alt @skyslondon @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @alivzstuff

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

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girlokwhatever · 1 day

Note

can u do reader coming home drunk after a nightout and paige takes care of her?🥺 (smut or fluff is fine)

𝄞₊ ⊹˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ taking care of you,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

paige is sitting in your shared apartment’s living room when she hears you fumbling with the keys outside. she immediately sets down her textbook, opening the door before you can even find the right key. she’s been expecting your arrival after you texted her a jumble of words, piecing together ‘home’ and ‘soon.’

you went out with a few of your friends from class to a local club, trying to unwind after a stressful few weeks. of course she wanted you to have fun but sometimes if other people were drinking, you tended to do the same. unfortunately for you, you were a lightweight.

“baby!” your eyes gleam at her, wide and glossy. you’re a bit of a bubbly drunk tonight, finding everything funny and somewhat joyful. you smiled at your girlfriend and jumped into her, craving her touch after being away for a few hours.

“hey ma, how was your night? had fun?” she catches you, holding the back of your thighs when you wrap your legs around her. your smile immediately turns to a dramatic frown, bottom lip pouted out. she has to resist the urge to kiss you, settling for the feeling of your body heat on hers.

“this guy was flirting with me paigey,”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah, told ‘em i have a pretty girlfriend already.”

now she’s smiling at you like a dope, pride swelling in her heart at your little story. you’re smiling with pride too, as if you just got told you did a good job. you’re paige’s favorite person in the world, no doubt. so hearing you brag about her is something that makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“how much did you drink?” she’s closing the door now, not missing the smell of alcohol when your soft breath hits her face. you shrug your shoulders because you genuinely have no clue. just from your answer, or lack of one, she knows it was a lot more than you can probably handle for one night.

you drop your legs from around your girlfriend and she lets you, letting go of the grip she has on your thighs. you wobble for a second while you adjust to standing on your own again. paige watches you carefully, slightly concerned at how out of it you seem. she finds herself getting a little angry at your friends for letting you drink so much, but she lets it go because she knows it was all in good fun.

“oh.. wow. that’s not-“ your hands are on your stomach and paige knows what’s about to happen. she’s ushering you to the bathroom, lifting the toilet lid, and pulling any loose hair out of your face. she lets you get it all out, patting your back and telling you it’s ok, the same way she always does. if you weren’t battered drunk it would probably make you blush.

“are you okay?”

you silently nod, already feeling a bit more sober. paige sends you a soft smile, kissing your forehead and pulling away again to turn on the shower. she grabs your pj’s from your room and when she comes back you’re half asleep against the wall.

“baby, gotta get you cleaned up okay?”

now you’re both in the shower together while paige lathers the shampoo and conditioner into your hair. you pleaded with her to get in with you, still not feeling the best. she said yes, tied her hair up in a bun, took off her clothes, and now she’s in here. with you.

she helps you rinse your hair out (she does it without any of your help) and just takes a moment to admire you. it seems you had the same idea though, staring up at paige with doe eyes. she notices you’re not exactly smiling, a light frown taking your features.

“what’s wrong?”

“miss you p,”

“i’m right here”

“yeah but.. you’re in minnesota.”

paige is genuinely shocked at your statement, laughing out loud and throwing her head back at what you said. she was in minnesota for a few days last month and you couldn’t free your schedule enough to go with her, which is what she thinks you’re referring to. of course in your drunk mind you think she’s making fun of you, which only makes you feel worse. you step out of the shower, the cold apartment air making your nipples peak and your body shiver.

paige follows in suit, having to hold her breathe at the sight of you. she jogs to your room, putting her own pajamas on and quickly returning to you.

“baby i’m sorry. don’t be upset please, i wasn’t laughing at you.”

you’re clothed too, standing in between paige and the bathroom counter as she rubs lotion on your back from underneath your shirt. her hands are large and warm, smoothing over your skin with a delicacy that you appreciate. you don’t exactly realize it all the time, but paige does a phenomenal job at taking care of you. especially on nights like this.

“yes you were.”

“ok… i was. but! but- it’s because i was just a little shocked, is all.”

you turn to face her, eyes scanning over her face until you determine how you feel. you try to remember what you even said, but nothing’s popping up so you decide to just forget it.

“feeling better?”

“for a kiss.” paige kisses you, gentle and soft. her hands situated on your hips pull you closer until you’re chest to chest. all of the sudden you’re pulling away with a frantic energy, like you just remembered something of the upmost importance.

“skincare!” you (in true clumsy fashion) try hopping up on the counter. once you fail a few times and then some, paige decides to just lift you herself. she digs through your drawer, not knowing where to start.

you don’t even seem to be in the same universe, eyes closed and legs swaying ever-so little. she decides to just pick a few things, mixing them all together in her hands before smoothing it over your face. it isn’t really her thing, you’re always the one doing it for her and yourself. once she’s satisfied, she taps your legs and kisses your nose. your eyes flutter, giving her a lazy smile.

“ready for bed?”

“mhm”

“brush your teeth first” you groan and she smiles as she walks away, pulling the covers back and throwing extra pillows to the floor. by the time she’s cut all the nights off in the apartment and returned, you’re rinsing your mouth out with water. she notices you’re ever more clumsy than usual, knocking over a few things on the counter and almost tripping over your own feet before she catches you.

“c’mere baby,” paige motions you closer, picking you up and carrying you to your shared bedroom. she lays on her back with you on top of her still, never letting go.

her face nuzzles into your damp, freshly washed hair. your face buries itself into her neck, the slow thump of her pulse helping ground you to reality. you couldn’t ever remember a time being this drunk, but to be fair you couldn’t remember much of anything right now. just that you love paige, and paige loves you.

“hey wait, take this advil and drink some water before you pass out please.” you whine, obviously too comfortable to lift your head.

“no. don’t wanna.”

“for a kiss?”

“…..fine.”

ㅤᵕ̈⋆｡°✩`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹✩°｡✮☾☼

just finished reading like 5 diff kate martin stories on wattpad guys

also this isn’t spell checked pls forgive me

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball

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bucksboobs · 22 hours

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On their way to a fire, Buck opens his big mouth and says something very stupid. Not an unusual occurrence but this one is unique: “Hey, Hen? Can I ask you a gay people question?”

Hen side-eyes him. “Are you sure now’s the best time?” The engine shakes on its suspension.

Buck blusters forward. “So Tommy and I have been dating a month and a half now.” The mention of Tommy grabs both Chim and Eddie’s attention.

“Wait, really?” Chim asks, Hen’s not sure if he thought it was shorter or longer than that. His memory of time seems to be the worst hit by the encephalitis.

“2 months next Thursday.” Eddie says.

“Y-yeah… that’s right.” Buck raises his eyebrows at Eddie. The rest all stare, Hen included. Those two have always been locked at the hip but knowing each other’s anniversaries seems excessive. Buck seems to agree.

“How do you know that?” She asks.

“Their first date was the same day I asked Marisol to move in with me.”

“When did Marisol move in with you?” Hen and Chimney ask in unison. Last she heard about Marisol she had only just met Chris, moving in seemed a long way off for them. Since when was she living with him?

“She didn’t” Bobby answers, giving his sternest glare to the rear view mirror. Hen knows this means she’s in charge of keeping these fools in check so he can focus on driving.

“Yeah we decided against that. Anyway Buck you were talking about Tommy?” Hen stifles a laugh. There was a story there she was going to have to wring out of Bobby because Eddie’s deflection abilities are legendary.

“Yeah so- um- ho-how long before we can uh…”Hen cocks her head. What exactly is Buck after with Tommy right now, they’re not nearly to the point of I love yous and she doesn’t think Buck would be this nervous about dating advice. “I mean how long did you and Karen wait until you, uh” Oh.

“Had sex?” Hen asks bluntly.

“Whoa, you and Tommy haven’t had sex yet?” Chimney asks, astonished.

“Buck when’s the last time you waited this long with anyone?” Eddie asks with a cocked eyebrow.

“Never? Maybe high school?” That tracks.

“Or Abby.” Chim offers. Buck winces at that. She knows that woman did him dirty, looks like the scar still aches.

“Six minutes to ETA.” Comes from the drivers seat. “5 and a half…” Bobby takes a sharp turn that shakes the whole truck. “5 minutes.”

“So how do I ask him to fuck me.”

A chorus of “BUCK!” rings through the truck. Eddie looks petrified at the idea of his best friends having sex with each other, Chim looks exhausted with his brother-in-law of barely a month and look, Hen would give the world to see this kid happy but sometimes he’s just too stupid for his own good.

“Buck. I think you need to remember Tommy doesn’t have a lot of experience in this area either.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Did you forget he’s only been out as long as you’ve been at the 118?” Hen learned that about Tommy from Buck’s gushing the day after the wedding. She’d also talked to him in a fluorescent lit waiting room after the most gorgeous hospital ceremony she’s ever been a part of, so she’s aware that he’s not used to being with men that want more than just sex from him. “He might think you’re just as nervous as he is.”

“I didn’t know he got nervous.”

Chim huffs at that. “Next time you see him ask him to tell you a story about a rooster.” That makes Hen smile.

“He probably won’t believe you’re ready until you can talk to him about it.”

“I don’t— I-it usually just kind of happens. You get a look, there’s a nod, they look at your lips and lean in…”

“Yeah but that was women who knew what they wanted and what you wanted. Tommy won’t know unless you tell him what you’re ready for.”

“So to get him to fuck me I have to tell him to fuck me?”

“Jesus, Buck. Yes.” Hen laughs. They are, thankfully, finally pulling to site so she doesn’t have to enumerate exactly how he needs to ask. If she did she’d have to explain birds and bees that she is not the best person to explain.

“Come on, kids, let’s save some lives.” Bobby calls as he pulls the parking break.

The fire looks pretty bad, two story house, they’ll have to split up by floor. As they gear up Buck says, privately, off-mic. “Thanks Hen, you’re a good Gay Yoda”

“Do him or do not, there is no try.”

#Henrietta Wilson #Evan Buckley #BuckTommy #little ficlet of the wlw/mlm solidarity that I couldn’t get out of my head #I tried Hen PoV let me know what you think!!!

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kakiastro · 2 days

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Astrology Notes:

Mercury Edition

This is what my astrology notes look like lol

-People who have a Mercury-Uranus aspect can indicate having lots of intelligence. These are the “mad geniuses” of our world. These native may have lots of ideas on how to help humanity as a whole. You might be in a lot of controversies over your words or be misunderstood. On the flip side of this aspect, this can indicate someone who has a strong knowledge of it all personality and don’t want to hear others options. May get offended easy and loves to argue.

-Mercury/Moon aspect natives need to control their emotions before they speak especially if you have it in a harsher aspect like a square or opposition. You may get flustered or your feelings may get hurt easily. These natives are sensitive to words, they may act like they don’t care but it definitely hurt their heart. On the flip side, they may be mostly the quiet type of people. Once they open up, it’s like a whole different person lol. They also have a strong intuition, they understand people more than they let on. They also have a soft spot for babies and young kids.

-Mercury Capricorn/10h natives has a lot of wisdom within them. They start learning harsh lessons during there early years. Usually by the time they reach their first Saturn return, they may sound like a retired 60 year old giving out advice due what they’ve endured 😅 Capricorn rules over time, so as they get older, the more introspection they have on the word. These are the perfect natives to receive advice from because of the lived experience. On the flip side, if these natives use their words or actions to hurt others, it will come back. Capricorn is one of the “power” placements , hence why it rules the 10h(highest point our chart) so moral of the story, use your words for good. Make stretching your daily routine, your cap Mercury will one day thank you. Also, take care of your teeth, even if you can’t afford to go the dentist , brush them and floss.

-Mercury/Jupiter aspect natives have a thirst for knowledge and seeking the truth. They don’t believe in the theory “not everything has an answer.” Because to them it does, you’re just too stupid to them to find it but they will😅don’t lie, y’all know it’s true! These natives will make excellent historians, professors, gurus, researchers, writers. They are pretty open about their beliefs and don’t mind debating you about them.

-Mercury Pisces/12h natives occasionally experience brain fog😅 they have the ideas and creativity but they’re time when their brain is filled with smoke😭 sometimes they just be talking and we don’t know what their talking about but they have beautiful voices so we let it slide lol. Speaking of voices, they are incredibly singers, like you just get lost or hypnotized by their words. Listening to frequency music or Lo-fi songs will help soothe y’all mind. Take care of feet, clip your big toe nail and put some lotion on them. Don’t be out here with goblin feet😭

-Mercury Sagittarius/9h natives loves foreign cultures and always traveling some damn where chile😅 these natives are either anti-religious or very religious. They may also just like studying religion as an interest without really holding those beliefs themselves. May have lots of father figures growing up. May have their own library of books and publications they love to keep. These natives, like Capricorn are also good at giving advice because they’re constantly researching or reading to find answers. Take care of y’all legs by stretching, running, even if you’re disabled, if you can, physical therapy or someone you trust can stretch your legs for you. I know everyone circumstances is different and that’s ok! Do what you can with what you got!

-Chiron Gemini /3h words can be so healing but triggering at the same time. They tell it like it is and it can sting but at the same, their advice can help the collective. They may have a wound with a sibling(s) . They could’ve been bullied in elementary school. These people at their best, turn their pain into healing and help others. They may understand the misunderstood people in our world. At worst, they use their pain to hurt others , they may have started out doing that but then started learn and heal. It really depends on the person because we all have free will.

-Chiron is said to associated with Virgo since it’s a healer astroid. It’s also associated with Sagittarius because he’s a teacher and a centaur which are ruled by Jupiter.

-Mercury/Venus natives have such beautiful voices and has a way with words😍these are the true charmers, they way that they can make you fall in love with them with just their voice and words. If they decided to write a book, it would get lots of attention especially if they write romance and poetry.

-Mercury Aries’s /1h natives loves cussing and has a potty mouth on them for sure 😅y’all put a sailor to shame. They may come off as brash with their words even though they mean well. You just have to listen to the words and not the tone sometimes😅. I also notice these natives tend to get lots of headaches or migraines with this placement.

I’ll stop here but I might make a part 2 to this. Let me know what Mercury placements or aspect you want me to make note on. I’m also open for paid readings if you’re interested!

#astrology #astrology community #knowledge #astro observations #advanced astrology #astrology notes #astrology notes by kakiastro #mercury astrology #mercury astrology notes #birth chart #kakiastro #tropical astrology

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sweetbans29 · 3 days

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Eyes On You - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You catch Caitlin's eye during a game (based off of THIS request)

Warnings: fluff, flirting, ever so slightly suggestive

Word Count: 3.2k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Okay but tell me you haven't gone somewhere and actually imagined this happened because you would be lying...

It is a Tuesday afternoon when your friends practically beg you to go to the women's basketball game.

"Come on, it will be fun," one of your friends says. You shake your head no without looking up from your biology paper.

"I need to finish this paper, it is due Friday and I am nowhere near close to done," you say, typing a sentence only to delete it immediately after. For some reason, this research paper is just not coming together.

"We already got you a ticket, you are going." Your roommate states knowing the real reason you don't want to go and it has nothing to do with your paper.

The truth is there is a girl on the team who you have been crushing on for a while now. The two of you are in the same business marketing class. She caught your eye pretty early on. The two of you ended up sitting next to each other and would make small talk whenever you got to class. It was never anything major but it was always the highlight of your day. You would get back to your room and immediately tell your roommate about your little conversation with the star athlete.

That was the thing, when you were in class she wasn't the superstar, she was just Caitlin. She would make you laugh with some silly little comment and you would talk to her like she wasn't the biggest person at the school. She made you feel seen and you made her feel heard.

You close your laptop and give your roommate the death stare. She knew you would say no but got you a ticket anyway - knowing you would never go to the game without being forced. This is your roommate's push to finally show your interest outside of your small talk in class. If you were to ask her, she was sick of hearing you always talk about Caitlin and never taking action to show her you actually liked her.

You give in, knowing your roommate isn't going to budge and will literally drag you there with her bare hands.

The group of you head back to your apartment and get ready. You opt for a simple look - jeans and a Hawkeye hoodie. Your friends on the other hand were dressed to impress. You check yourself out in the mirror and question if you should change. You decided against changing and instead grabbed a Hawkeye ballcap, hoping to blend in with the crowd and not be seen by your favorite player.

All of you decided to walk to the game, it wasn't more than 20 minutes away from your apartment. The closer you got to the stadium, the more nervous you felt. You have no idea why you are nervous, it is not like she is going to see you.

When you get there, you follow behind your group of friends. It is all kind of overwhelming - the crowd and how many people are here and how decked out in gear they are.

You are too caught up in the scene to realize that your group is being ushered to your seats. This is your first Iowa women's basketball game and you didn't realize how crazy your school went for this team. You know that there has been a lot of traction around Caitlin Clark and how she is changing the game for women. But what you are seeing, is truly amazing the effect she is having on people.

When you all get to your seats, you are mortified. At no point did your roommate or any of your other friends mention that you were sitting courtside. Having the perfect view of the court is nice when it comes to watching the game but not when it comes to hiding from your marketing crush.

You sit and glare at your roommate, who ignores you quite easily as she is in conversation with one of the guys you came with.

You pull your ball cap down and wish you could sink through your chair. This will be fine. You will be fine. There is no way she is going to notice you when she is focused on the game. You keep telling yourself this.

The team makes its way onto the court - the crowd goes wild. You watch as they come jogging out, starting to warm up. Your eyes scan the crowd for no.22. You see a few other girls that are familiar from classes and make a mental note to cheer them on. When you finally find Caitlin, your heart skips a beat.

She looks so good. This is 100% her in her element. The once so laid-back girl, now locked in and ready for what the next 2 hours hold. You are mesmerized by how calm she looks - like the thousands of fans here shouting her name are nonexistent.

Your eyes remain on her while they warm up. When their warm-ups come off and they take the court for the beginning of the game, something shifts in her.

You turn over to ask one of your friends a question about the team, missing the first glance that Caitlin gets of you sitting courtside for her game. She turns over to Kate, who is standing right next to her.

"That's her," is all Caitlin says and gives a little point to you. Kate follows her point to a girl who looks like she doesn't want to be seen. That's hard to do when you are literally sitting on the court.

Your attention goes back to the game as the girls go up for the tip-off. When the Hawkeyes take it, you feel yourself getting into the game. No one really knew you grew up playing in middle school and high school. You were never good enough to play in college but you enjoyed the sport. You left that part of you when you left high school.

It's not even 2 minutes into the game when you feel eyes on you. You turn to see your friends staring at you. You look back at them confused. Your roommate uses her head to signal to something on the court. You look and are surprised to see Caitlin looking right at you.

You feel a heat creep into your cheeks as you just stare at her. See it would have been a good idea to smile or nod. Hell, even wave but you just sat there staring at her with a blank expression.

She just smiles and lets out a little chuckle as she turns back to the game. She gets the ball and shoots a logo three no more than 10 seconds after you made a fool of yourself. When she turns to the crowd to celebrate, she points directly at you and then holds up a three with her other hand. Your roommate elbows your side as you hide your face.

This was everything you were terrified of, being seen.

"It looks like she has someone to play for," one of your friends gives you a little nudge.

"Guys there is no need to make this bigger than it is, she could be pointing to anyone over here, it isn't a big deal," you say in hopes that you will also believe your lies.

Your roommate scoffs. "You keep telling that to yourself sweetheart, she knows, we know and by the looks of it, the team also knows," she says as she nods over to the girls on the court.

All of your heads turn to see Caitlin, pointing to you again but this time talking to more girls on her team. They all look at you with smiles then break from their huddle and head back to their spots on the court.

Caitlin is running straight in your direction.

"Watch," you say referring to how you are not the center of attention to anyone.

Caitlin doesn't stop where she is supposed to be posted but rather runs straight to you with her hand out. Your hand comes out to give her a high five.

"Glad you could finally make it to one of my games," she says with a little smirk. "Only halfway through the season, better late than never." She gives you a wink before heading back to her post.

You feel like you could pass out. There is no way she just came up to you, mid-game, to be a little flirt.

"Looks like your girl Caitlin now has someone to dedicate her plays to," one of your friends teases you.

"Oh shut up," you say but that doesn't take away from the butterflies that build in the pit of your stomach.

Everyone turns back to the game and as you watch your team fight to keep the lead.

It seems like in every other play, Caitlin is turning her head to give you a smile or a smirk. You want time to stop so you can walk up to her and tell her to get her head in the game. There is no way she should be this distracted when the score is as close as it is.

The next play has a girl from the other team, pushing Caitlin causing her to fall on her backside right in front of you. You lean down to stop her from rolling into the chairs, your hand coming to her lower back and right arm as she slides right into you. When your hand touches her skin, you accidentally shock her - sending a little electrical current running through both of you.

One of her teammates comes to help her up and a foul is called. Before she goes to throw her free throws she turns to you, saying, "Thanks, babe."

Your friends, yet again, turn to look at you and you just wave them off.

The buzzer goes off as halftime commences. You are scrolling on your phone when someone approaches you.

"Hi, I was asked to come give this to you," the woman says as she hands you jersey. You give her a confused look, not taking it, but rather just looking at the article of clothing she is holding.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you are talking about," you say, genuinely confused.

"I was told by one of the players to give this to you to wear for the rest of the game," she says, signaling you to take the jersey. It is your roommate who takes it from the woman and lets her know you will put it on. The woman walks away and your roommate full-on turns to face you.

"You are putting on this jersey," she says, throwing it at you. You hear her mumble, "Just letting the poor woman stand there when she has better things to do. All you had to do was take the jersey." She seems annoyed at how naive you are being.

You look at the jersey that was just given to you - Clark 22 printed on the back. You slip it over your hoodie and slip your hat back on. You aren't going to deny the feeling you get when you first slip it on. And it is not like you are the only one wearing the number 22, there is a stand full of fans sporting the number as your marketing crush is the school's star.

When the team heads back out at the end of halftime, Caitlin's eyes go straight to you, making sure you got her little gift. She is pleased to see you wearing it.

As the third quarter begins, the team comes out hot, putting up 2 threes in the first minute. You are cheering them on louder than before.

After the next play, Caitlin comes your way.

"Much better," is all she says as she gives you another wink. You just smile at her, bringing your bottom lip in between your teeth. Caitlin's eyes go from yours, down to your lips. The smile she once wore, was now replaced with something between annoyance and longing. Every fiber of her being is telling her to walk up to you and pull that pretty little lip of yours out from your teeth and tell you that your lips are only for her to bite.

She finally looks away, realizing how much you are distracting her from the game. Kate runs up to Caitlin and whispers something into her ear, Caitlin nods and heads to grab water from the bench as the other team calls a time-out.

By the time the fourth quarter rolls around, you feel like you belong courtside. Your friends are still giving you a hard time whenever Caitlin looks your way or comes over to make a little comment to you. The game is nearing its end when Caitlin comes over to pass in the ball after a foul. She is standing right in front of you, so close you could touch her if you wanted.

She takes a small step back, her leg brushing up against yours. She steps up to the line and leans forward just enough to stick her ass out in your direction. This whole time, she has been the one in control. All that control went out the window when you bit your lip causing the super start to internally lose it. Her standing where she was, right in front of you, was no accident - she wanted you in the palm of her hand, not the other way around.

And boy did she have you. You sit there and just admire her body. Checking out her legs and how they are perfectly shaped. How her arms are beautifully toned and how she looks all around is incredible.

The game ends and the Hawkeyes take the win. The team rushes onto the court and begins celebrating with those who finished out the quarter.

You and your friends stand, stretching your legs. You had no intention of staying to see Caitlin after the game, thinking the team would go out to celebrate. You plan on giving Cait back her jersey the next class you two have together.

Your back is facing the court as you are waiting for your friends to grab their stuff when you feel a tug on your arm. You spin around and come face to face with none other than Miss Caitlin Clark.

She has a smile on her face and without warning, she grabs your waist and kisses you. Time stops and all the people in the background fade away. Your hands come up to her face as they cup her cheeks. You feel her bring your body closer to hers as she deepens the kiss. She gives your bottom lip a little bite as you break apart.

You stand there speechless. Dreaming of this kiss since the beginning of the semester, never in a million years imagined it would happen like this.

The most radiant smile is on her face. She leans in closer to you.

"My number is on the inside of this jersey. Call me, will you?" She asks as she looks at you for a response.

"Of course," is all you can say, still in shock about what has just happened.

"Good," she says. "I'll be waiting." She lets you go and gives your friends a wave before heading back to the team.

The whole walk home your friends can't stop talking about what had just unfolded before them. Some of them are as shocked as you are, while others are already planning your wedding.

When you get back to your room, you shoot Caitlin a text so she has your number.

[CC: I'm glad you didn't take long to shoot me a message}

{CC: Are you busy tomorrow? Want to work on our marketing paper if you haven't finished it yet?]

[You: That sounds great, I am quite behind 🤣]

[CC: Well I don't know if I will be much help, but I would rather do it with you than alone]

[You: I'm for it, meet at noon?]

She sends you her address. You like it and put your phone down to head to bed. Before you do, you hear your phone go off one more time. Grabbing it, you see one last message from Caitlin.

[CC: Sleep tight babe]

The next morning you wake up and go for a run. You needed to do something to help with the nerves that began to build just thinking about seeing Caitlin today.

You get back, shower, then get ready to meet her at her place. You make sure to stick her jersey in your bag to return to her and head out the door.

It only takes you about 15 minutes to walk to her apartment. When you get there you knock on the door.

She opens it with a huge smile, "Hi."

She lets you, opening her arms for a hug which you gladly shuffle into. It surpassed the length that friends would hug. As you pull away you decide to give her cheek a little peck.

After doing so is the first time you see her blush. You smile at her and continue to walk into her apartment.

The two of you decide to work on her couch - both struggling to get through this paper. You took frequent breaks talking about when you both started liking each other and more about your lives outside of marketing.

As you take another break, you grab your phone and decide to look her up only to find edits of you and her from the night before.

Your cheeks heat up immediately as you hide your face in your hands.

"What?" She says trying to look over at your screen. You hand her your phone and she laughs a little, followed by an 'awww'.

"I can't believe there are people out there who are making full-on edits of us." You say with a little groan - the spotlight is not your thing.

"They are cute," she says as she keeps scrolling through your phone. "Look at this one!"

You lean into her and look at what she is talking about. It is a clip of you before halftime, wearing your Hawkeye sweatshirt then jumps to after halftime when you are wearing Caitlin's jersey.

"I am sure glad I gave you my jersey," she says with a little smirk.

"That reminds me, I brought it back for you," you say, moving to grab it from your bag. She grabs your arm and brings you back into her.

"That one is for you to wear to the rest of my games," she says like it is a known fact. You decide to tease her a bit.

"And what makes you think I want to go watch you play again?" You ask.

She gives you a little pout - which literally melts you.

"Because you are my new good luck charm," she says and leans in closer to you. Your breathing becomes uneasy.

"But you don't need luck," you say just above a whisper. Your eyes going in between hers and her lips.

"You're right..." she says, also looking at your lips. Her eyes make their way back to yours. "I don't need luck, but I need you."

She leans in and kisses you. This kiss is much more reserved than the one she planted on you last night. There was no rush or urgency in this kiss, it was quite pleasant.

You inhale and bring your forehead to hers.

"I am all yours."

AN: I really like how this came out! Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark concepts #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #22 #caitlin clark masterlist

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yandere-sins · 3 days

Text

Guard #500

a/n: It's been a hot minute but I just got this idea for our beloved prince so I just went for it. Hopefully it comes across as fun as I had while writing it ♥

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Pairings: Yandere!Guard!Malleus Draconia x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Malleus eating out reader, Mentioning of a one-night-stand), Abuse of authority, Manipulation, Mentioning of Reader unintentionally cutting on a knife (but no further actions in that regard), Mentioning of knifes/assassination/dead/dying, Slightly unhinged behavior from the Yandere, Slightly gorey description, Long Post

[Prison Project Introduction & How to request | Pinterest Moodboard]

There was something especially cruel about having your failure rubbed into your face.

He didn't even need to say anything, much less move. It was enough for your former target to stand outside your cell, unfortunately, alive and well, taunting you with his silence. Malleus Draconia was probably the most feared name one could hear when you were sent to prison for your crimes. And the more grave your crime was, the more you had to fear him.

"It doesn't suit you," he finally said after staring at you for a long time.

The two other guards at his side eyed him, confused about his statement. You stopped pretending to read your book, an activity you abandoned the moment he stepped up to your cell. Your mind was too nervous to concentrate on the words, but even so, you had the desire to pretend he wasn't there, hoping he'd leave.

"I don't know much about fashion—I should ask Schoenheit about that," he directed the last few words at his fellow officers rather than you. "But orange doesn't seem to suit you."

"Unfortunately," you sighed, pretending not to have a nervous tension all throughout you just from speaking in his presence. "The dress you saw me in last was just too pretty for prison."

"Unfortunate, indeed."

More silence, and you finally put down the book, looking up at him. You held no personal grudge against the man. He hadn't done anything to you yet. It had been a failed assassination, one you had been paid for and which would give you a nice retirement once you got out. Some guy stuck in this prison with you wanted him dead, hired you, and now the biggest blow was that to your ego.

Malleus Draconia, however, still sent shivers down your spine.

He had that authoritarian aura around him and the piercing green eyes to match. When your gaze met his across the dancefloor of his private estate, you had felt your heart miss out a beat, your body tensing, trying to decide whether to run or approach. Something about him just drew you in, magically even. And at the same time, you felt like prey even though you were hunting him. It had been him who had walked up to you first, asked for a dance, and you foolishly agreed, letting him sweep you over the floor and into his bedroom like a fool. You could have killed him there, easily, and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again.

But you couldn't. Not when he looked at you with the adoration of a lover. He was a rare jewel you could never possess, but you seemed to be the treasure of a lifetime in his eyes.

Never before had you let anyone deter you from your goals. Becoming an assassin hadn't been an easy task, betrayel your every-day business. You took advantage of your victims for as long as you needed, and then you stabbed them in the back, not caring if they knew it was you, cursing you with their dying breaths. But you did it well. Discreet and highly compensated, you thought that was all that mattered at the end of the day.

So why did the memory of that night still heat up your face?

You wanted to appear cool and unbothered by him now that you two were locked in this prison together. But how could you when you still remembered the dragging of his fingertips along your skin? The reverent way he parted your legs to fit himself between them, like the missing piece of a puzzle.

How could you forget the way his scent drafted all around you? His sheets, his hair, his body rubbing against yours, melting you into a malleable silhouette of passion and desire. If you took off your clothes, it was most likely you'd still find a hickey or lovebite left behind in the moments of pure lust, and when you touched yourself at night, you still imagined his image that of a slightly disheveled god looking down on you with the mercy and the grace of a servant.

At this point, you thought you saw Malleus' smile widen as if he could read your thoughts. Perhaps you never had the kind of pokerface you thought you did. But one way or another, he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking of, even if just because he was thinking of it, too.

"I liked you so much better, draped in my green sheets. But that's nothing that can't be arranged even now. I look forward to your next attempt, little assassin."

He left, appearing pleased with himself, to the absolute horror of you and the two other guards, who took a double take at their superior before shooting you dirty glances. That's right, you thought, almost wanting to say out loud, "I fucked your great Malleus Draconia."

But you didn't. Instead, you shrugged, feigning your return to read your book nonchalantly as if nothing that happened was a big deal. You had no beef with them, and trying to hide your embarrassment by sticking your nose in your book was better than letting them see how failure raked its claws over your back.

It felt almost the same as how Malleus had done it.

"Is this-- this even allowed?"

Your head fell back the moment you uttered your momentary concerns. Driving your fingers through the silky black hair, Malleus' eyes shot upwards, the green ever so piercing. However, instead of the fight and flight from before, now, the only thing it caused inside you was desire.

Everything about him was so regal, from how he knelt on only one knee beneath you, to how supportive his shoulder was to your leg draped over it. His hands were buried in your hips, enough to keep you steady but also to direct you exactly where he needed you to be. You were a helpless mess, whining when he pulled his tongue torturously slowly out of your cunt, and you bit your lip when he licked over his, your slick making them shine like some kind of fruity gloss.

"Do you not like it?" he murmured from between your legs, taking another full drag through your folds as if he was licking the spoon after eating a delicious dessert. "I suppose it hardly measures up to the splendor outside this prison, but I hope you can appreciate my gift to you."

"All I did was get beaten up by my employee, and you gift me a whole-ass cell for myself, prettied up to make it look like your room?"

You weren't sure whether to freak out or to laugh. Not having to share the public amenities and a room with three other stinky inmates was undoubtedly a welcome gift. Still, you were hardly deserving of it after trying to kill the man who presented you with it now.

"I'm still sorry about that; I should have come earlier," his gaze dropped, the light diminishing as he looked at your stomach. The bruise wasn't forming yet, but you knew it would come sooner than later. Even if you trained yourself to be a better assassin, you weren't immune to damage.

"But I promise to make up for it."

His eyes darted back to meet yours. Gone was the moment of regret; now, all that you saw before they lidded in the process of staying true to his words, was determination.

You felt his tongue slide back over your clit, the unnatural longness of it wrapping briefly around the nub before he began to suck. There must have been a world record somewhere for getting Malleus Draconia to eat you out, but he, surprisingly, proved to wear the badge of honor when it came to servicing someone.

It was wrong, but it felt so good.

Biting your finger, you held back the moans as you felt him probe at your entrance again. However, another uncomfortable thought crossed your mind, and as you pulled the finger from between your teeth, Malleus entered you, slipping right along your walls and making you buckle over.

You were glad for him supporting your body, feeling as if you might collapse there and then. "W-What about the others?" you stuttered, unable to shake the feeling even though his actions were very much shaking you. "What will they think if they hear us?"

"Let 'em," Malleus muttered against your pussy, not sounding so dignified with his tongue inside you. "They can 'now who you belon' to."

"Sir!" you gasped, only to let a loud moan escape. It was hard enough to keep up with your worries while your inside clenched around his tongue as if your life depended on it—although he seemed to not mind it in the least. Still, you didn't want to hear dirty talk from someone who was supposed to hate you more than anyone else. And although you felt a real orgasm build, hard and fast, you couldn't shake the embarrassment of being paraded to his goons.

"W-Wait, stop!"

God, you hated yourself. You were so close.

However, Malleus complied. Immediately, all movements ceased, and he looked back up at you, expecting your next command. You were troubled with catching your breath first, but eventually, you shook your head, and you felt the drag of his tongue as it pulled out—not without its tip going left and right, mind you, tasting as much as it could.

"You've done—ngh!—done enough. I appreciate it, really. But I can't accept this—any of it! I just... I can't. This has to stop."

Malleus stayed silent, gazing at you with a mix of disappointment and, what you could only describe, defiant refusal. "We will not," he finally concluded, and you gave him a confused look as he gently dropped your leg to the side so you could stand on it again before getting up.

"Is this not exciting for you? Have I been neglecting your needs? Given how... wet you are, I thought I was going in the right direction, but I can improve my technique if you give me pointers."

"W-What? No! It was fine—great! You were doing everything right, it's just..." Your shoulders sacked as you gestured around the room. "I shouldn't be rewarded like this for trying to kill you. Look, I have nothing against you personally. It was just a job. And what we had was great, but it wasn't that good for you to treat me like this. I mean, shouldn't you hate me? Why are you doing this?"

To your complete bafflement, Malleus chuckled while you were getting worked up about the weird circumstances you two were in.

"Hate you? How could I? You led me right to the people who wanted me dead in the first place. I recognize your role as a pawn in the scheme, but is that it? Do you think this to be boring, now that it is just between you and me? Do you miss the excitement of getting a job done?"

Turning sharply on his heels, every one of his moves so deliberate yet fluid, he stepped over to a small box on the table, opening it and taking something out of it. Turning towards you again, he only needed to snap it open to reveal the sharp, silver blade of a knife that you thought must have definitely been illegal to be brought into this prison.

"I thought of this, too, you see. That you might need some more excitement. So, here."

Taking your hand in his, he placed the cold jack knife in your hand, directing its tip towards him. When you looked up at him in shock, you could hardly figure out what he was thinking. You thought yourself good at reading expressions and little signs, but with Malleus' formal training, it was hard to make anything out. With the eyes of madness and the smile of adoration on his face, you couldn't make out a single thought in that head of his.

"Go on, do it. Stab me, cut me, rip me open if you must. Make a mess of my body. And then let me return to where I belong, at your feet, between your legs. Let me nourish on your juices so it may be the last taste on my lips before I perish. And when I am down there, please use me for your desires so you might remember me fondly as well."

"You're crazy," you muttered, doing the only right thing you could in this situation—pulling the knife back to the point you cut yourself before throwing it to the ground so he would stop almost piercing himself on it.

"Hm, crazy," he pondered, nodding his head thoughtfully. Even in the face of this situation, with his eyes closed, his face serene as a moonlit night, and his hair ever so slightly disheveled from you meddling with it before, he seemed completely composed. He looked nothing but otherworldly, as if he shouldn't be walking among humans but belonged to the creatures written in books. It was unnerving, just like his words.

Malleus could have had anyone. Surely people would line up to just awe at him for a split second. They'd pay more than you could ever earn in your measly life just to be regarded by him once. Yet, he choose the assassin who wanted to murder him. Who failed yet helped him. You thought you'd eventually meet your employer now that you were in the same prison and get a reminder not to speak of who hired you. You didn't know Malleus would be watching, being able to figure out who wanted him dead just by observing you.

And because of this, and perhaps the fling you two had on the night of his assassination attempt, he'd come to want you.

"Perhaps I am "crazy". It doesn't feel bad," he admitted, opening his eyes again to look at you. Nothing of the unreadable curse you saw before remained in his gaze. Only pure, unfiltered adoration now filled it. He looked at you like only someone madly in love could. You never thought someone could ever look this way at you, and if not for the nagging fight or flight instinct returning to the forefront of your mind, it almost pulled at your heartstrings.

But before you could react, he leaned forward, picking you up. You squeaked as he lifted you high in the air, your legs wrapping around his torso instinctively. He walked as if you weighed nothing, carefree and playful, tilting his head to nib at your hand that was gripping his uniform jacket before mending the agitation on your skin with a few pecks of his lips.

You eyed the door, waging your options. If you hammered against it, screaming for help, the two guards Malleus left in front of it might think he's in trouble and come in, even though he ordered them to stay outside. Something felt terribly off with this man you once thought to be this elegant, otherworldly prince who could do no wrong. You thought he joined the side of justice to keep up his image, but the amount of mercy he was showing you and only you bordered on selfishness.

It would be better to leave before it was too late. You shouldn't humor a beast that seemed to be starving, fixating itself on the only prey that had no choice but to obey when it was in a helpless position.

"Crazy or not, stabbing me or not. Either way, let's return to the matter at hand: you didn't cum yet, did you? However am I going to deal with it if my darling is dissatisfied with me?"

In a swooshing motion, you were thrown forward, falling right on your back, only to be caught in softness and comfort. The mattress of the bed he provided you with molded to your body, the pillows and sheets guaranteeing you a good night's sleep on imaginary clouds. And even better support for other activities.

"And just so you know..." Malleus added, climbing on top of you, straightening his back only to pull off his jacket before he hovered closer than ever to you. As if he had to completely erase any distance keeping him from you, his body sticking against yours like a magnet. He was mesmerizingly pretty and you still couldn't believe what he was doing. All of this was wrong, and some feral instincts from a century ago feared he'd rip out your throat as he buried his face beneath your chin, kissing along your neck.

"I soundproofed the room but I plan to let everyone hear us."

You gulped, and he chuckled, involuntarily feeling the movement press against his lips.

"You already belong to me," he stated matter-of-factly as his face popped up in front of yours again. You looked at the door once more, fearing it was too late. You were trapped, caught like a princess by the dragon, but there was no knight in shining armor to save you.

"And I'll prove it to everyone and you if I must."

224 notes · View notes

scorpioriesling · 3 days

Note

May I please politely beg for a fic based on the Eris bc post you did? It was so good and I’d love to see him confront Rhys + co and taking care/loving reader

I’m the “Bad Guy”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warnings: some graphic-ish injury

Summary: Eris Vanserra; he was your… what? Enemy? Ally? Both? Sort of — at least, that’s what Rhysand says, and whatever your High Lord says, goes. But, Eris saw you for more than anyone in your court ever could, and deep down you knew he had one more title, reserved for just you: true love. What happens when you’re in danger, and he’s the first and only one you go running to?

SR’s Note: Yes you absolutely can have a fic based on Eris’ HC in this post. No need to beg — I’m happy to oblige. Here it is, I hope you like it. xoxo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The fire crackled and burned in the fireplace, embers creating a soft glow in the darkened sitting room. Eris was alone, lounging on the sofa in the Forest House, his newest read in hand. He liked spending his time this way — alone, reading, warm. He felt… content.

Little did he know, you’d quite enjoyed your evenings the same way.

Sure, he knew you shared an interest in reading. That’s where he usually found you when he’d visit the Night Court — shelf combing in the library of the House of Wind; curled in a chair, a different book to read each time he would see you again; sometimes, you’d even be caught talking about your favorite ones with Nesta. You quite enjoyed her, as well as her company and character, as she was very honest and real with you.

Yet, another thing in you’d shared in common.

On this particular evening though, the sun had already long set and the stars were sprinkling the sky when Eris felt his body tense on instinct. He had suddenly lost interest in what he was reading when he heard a commotion coming from outside. Well, not a commotion, but rather some sort of… crying. Whimpering, rather. He straightened in his chair, straining his ears to hear what was happening beyond the windows of the Forest House.

Usually, when this happened, it was the work of Beron — some cruel or unusual punishment that Eris had learned long ago to stay out of. Recently, tensions were running high with the Night Court; though Eris was still secretly meeting with them, it didn’t change that his father wanted to sever all ties with the solar court completely.

But this… this time, it was different.

“Please… please…”

Eris’ heartstrings pulled in his chest as he strained to listen, wanting to make any excuse or reason for his ears to be deceiving him.

But, he knew in his heart, they were not.

In an instant, he’d snapped his novel shut and was racing toward the front door. He threw it open, rounding the corner of the house and bolting for the enormous hedge maze in the backyard of the grounds. He wasn’t sure exactly what had come over him; on any other day, he’d leave you to suffer as he would the other Night Court Inner Circle members. But the squeeze of barbed wire around his heart propelled him forward.

He knew you were here. He knew it was you that needed him.

It was an odd feeling, tearing around corners in search of the one woman he’d thought over and over about torturing. He’d thought of you crying. He’d thought about how he could hurt you. Did that make him a bad person? Maybe. So be it. You weren’t perfect either. Over the last few years, he’d even thought of how he’d kill you himself — just, once, he’d thought of this. It was during a meeting with the entire Inner Circle, of course; Eris was present. He’d arrived early and heard you, again, talking to Nesta about your ideas on strategy and negotiation. Though you were speaking of ideas that would affect him directly, he didn’t care — the ideas were good. Nesta wasn’t shy to give credit where it was due, either.

But, none of that mattered because during the meeting, you hadn’t opened your mouth once or said a word about your ideas. You’d tried to interject, actually — but Rhysand was quick to silence you.

But how did you handle that?

Like a good pet would. You sat, and stayed silent. Just like you always did. You’d never challenge your High Lord, oh Cauldron no — he could just simply use you as a doormat, and it wouldn’t matter.

Maybe that’s what pissed Eris off so badly.

He knew what you were capable of, what you had to offer, and what you were worth; but it seemed that most of the Inner Circle didn’t bat an eye at you, especially Rhys, whom you bowed to and that was that. Your talents could be used for so much more, but you always stayed within the guidelines in which you were allowed.

“Please… Eris…someone help me…”

Eyes straining in the night, Eris followed your pained cries until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large marble water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck. Drying crimson flakes dirtied your usually vibrant tendrils, and your hands braced over your abdomen, hot tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you peered up at him in desperation. His heart split in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him as he took in your appearance in full.

But, his sadness turned very quickly, to anger. You laid, panting and in pain, in his court, on his grounds. No explanation, no one coming to help you. He felt... violent.

He knelt down to your level, leaning in and stretching a hand out to trail over your face, registering the blood pouring from inside your lip. He then reached up to move your hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing maroon pool you two were in.

Well, one of the causes. Your hands still covered your stomach.

He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, a few blood-tainted drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over the bone. You relaxed a bit at his touch, though he usually appeared so tense and malicious. When he looked into your eyes again, his whiskey irises were dulled to a deep bourbon, and his jaw was clenched tight.

"Come with me."

He stood then and wrapped his arms around your knees and lower back, scooping you up and carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out a few small yelps here and there as the searing pain in your stomach was getting to be too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. Your usually soft eyes met his, and his wire-wrapped heart strained once more. He’d felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were in his eyes. A gentle, wise, little doe. His little doe.

Whatever he’d been feeling before, it was long gone. The only thoughts clouding his mind were ones of keeping you safe, helping you in every way he could, and providing you with everything you could need.

Little did he realize, you just needed him. Wasn’t that why you were there in the first place?

When Eris had finally made it inside, he sat you gently on the sofa in front of the fireplace, and ran to the washroom. It wasn’t long before he’d returned, presenting a small wet cloth in one hand and taking your chin between his fingers kindly in the other. He began to wipe away the trailing stains all over your delicate skin, trying so hard to stay gentle with you; trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others. He felt better seeing you relax into his touch a bit as he continued to work.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. It was one thing he pretended to hate; he “hated” your kindness to everyone, even his father, of all people. He “hated” your soft voice, one he wasn’t used to hearing all that often. He also “hated” your gentle loving nature — so, so much he “hated” it.

He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes to attempt to ground his senses and avoid thinking about punishing whoever hurt you like this. It only caused him more agony, watching as you tried to hold back your tears. Wiping away the last of the blood from your hairline, he dropped his head for a moment, raking a hand through his hair.

“I can’t stall for you any longer, love.” He said softly. Your stomach muscles continued to tense under your palms, and you watched as he rolled a clean cloth between his hands.

"I’m going to put this,” he held up the rolled cloth.

“In here," he tucked it into your open mouth. You closed your mouth over it, so usually defiant towards your “sworn enemy”, but, really...

You'd do anything he asked of you.

His hands moved to cover your bloody ones, still clutching at your stomach.

"Y/N... you’re going to have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, fresh pain raging from the wound in your abdomen. Eris sighs, looking to you with pleading eyes.

“Please, Y/N… you have to help me help you.” His thumbs stroke over your knuckles, now covered in your blood — and you begin to remove your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp as he sees your laceration in full, and shakes his head slowly. He sits back on his knees, positioning himself between yours.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your clammy fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on yours for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest,” he begins. “I've thought about hurting you before, as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus on his words as your mind started to fog over, your vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view between your knees, his fingers ablaze with his gift of fire. You immediately sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again, his tone warning. His fingers meets your bubbling would, flames searing the skin as a scream tears through your dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for just a moment — only to press heat onto your would again within seconds.

Your hands claw at the collar of his white button down, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would, flames stinging and burning your sensitive flesh.

Over. Over. Over again.

You tilt your head back, the familiar weightless feeling becoming all too apparent. You felt it coming; you were going to black out. His once-white collar begins to slip from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before glazing over as you slink into darkness.

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

Soft streams of sunlight bathe the room in a golden glow when you open your eyes again. You register the feeling of comfy, loose-fitting pants amid the cool, mahogany silk sheets you’re enveloped in. You blink a few times, and reach a hand up to rub the sleep from your eyes.

When your eyes adjust, you realize what’s so different; everything. The sun is illuminating the room from a window. A window across this… bedroom, with a stoked fireplace and four poster oak bed. A bed with mahogany sheets, a stark contrast to your usual lilac ones at home — as well as the teakwood bookshelf along the far wall. At least those are familiar, most of the titles. One novel is laying on the window seat; it’s one you’d just finished last week.

Then, the realization hits you; you were in Eris' room.

You try to sit up, but wince in pain and end up laying back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you donned. A thick bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing your abdominal injury. Your mind wandered to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

Within moments, Eris appeared in the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" In three steps, he’s made it to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head in honesty, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

He knew you’d be honest with him. Yet, another thing he “hated” about you.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to choke out. Eris readjusts to face you, scooting closer and reaching out a hand to stroke through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of freezing snow under your knees, the jagged rocks slicing into your palms would only be the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you swallow, the lump in your throat only growing as a tear slips free. Usually, he’d be the type to taunt you for crying or appearing so weak, but Eris only brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping the tear away.

"The fucking Blood Rite." He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second. The muscle in his jaw feathers as his eyes train on yours, and you nod in confirmation. His other hand rests on yours clasped atop the sheets, and you can’t help but register the heat he is emitting, even from the small touch.

He sighs, hanging his head low and shaking it slowly. When he makes eye contact again, he takes your hands reassuringly in his. “Y/N, I’m only going to ask you one more time. Who. Did. This. To you.” You can practically see the flames dancing in his irises, and you lean forward an inch, almost nose to nose with him. His strong scent of cinnamon and burnt timber wafts through your senses, and you feel a small tug on your heartstrings.

“Eris, look it’s not anyone’s fault, okay? I mean, well, it is…” you begin with a sigh. “I was sleeping over at the House of Wind with Nesta and Gwyn and Emerie, and… oh, uh and the guys were there too, for most of the night. Cass, Azriel. Ya know.” You explain. He nods for you to continue.

“Well, we were just having a nice time and when we went to sleep, I don’t know I just… one minute I was asleep and the next, I had a mask on my eyes and someone was… uh…. mm… uhm covering my mouth and… Nesta was screaming-“ you hadn’t noticed your hands beginning to shake, until Eris laced his fingers with yours. You took a steadying breath, but the shaking only subsided a little as you still remembered the horrors of the night prior.

“So… Cassian and Azriel. They were supposed to be watching you.” Eris says evenly. You look at him incredulously.

“Watching? Oh, hardly. I mean, we’re not eight years old, Eris.” You explain. He nods, biting the inside of his cheek and contemplating your words. You can practically see the gears turning in that beautiful little head.

“It seems a little chat is in order.” He chides. Your eyes widen, and your hand braces on his bicep. He glances down at your touch, then back to your face again, nose still just inches from yours.

“No! Uh… I mean, no. Please.” You say. “They haven’t done anything wrong, and-“

“I’d hardly say allowing for you to be kidnapped for the damned Blood Rite is an inexcusable offense.” He interrupts. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Andddd, I shouldn’t have been allowed to winnow at the Blood Rite. Anyone found using their powers or plotting to escape the rite once it’s begun is…” you trail off. He nods. He knows; it’s an executable offense. Bringing any of this to attention could perhaps put you in more danger.

He didn’t care. He was prepared to do anything to save you, just as he’d done the night before. He definitely wouldn’t allow some dirty Illyrians get their hands on you again, either.

“How were you able to winnow, anyway? I thought powers weren’t able to be used on Romiel during the Blood Rite,” he asks, quirking a brow. You shrug, wincing and regretting the movement.

“I don’t know… maybe since no one knows I am capable of winnowing, they didn’t think it’d be necessary to shield those abilities from me? I don’t know Eris, I don’t know how all this works.” You say exasterbatedly. Eris only seems to become more troubled by your response.

“So… they didn’t teach you to winnow, you just… did it… and they didn’t think you could do anything with your powers, so much so that no one bothered to remove them?” His voice pitches, and you nod in agreement.

“I suppose.” He slips his hand from yours, standing and straightening his shirt. He moves toward the door, not uttering another word.

“Eris, where are you-“

“Y/N, trust me; I’m only doing you justice. You’ll thank me later, dove.”

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

“What are you doing out of bed?”

You hear him before you see him. When you slowly turn from your spot at the stovetop, Eris is leaned against the doorframe, a cocky grin on his lips, brow raised in question. You roll your eyes, the only movement you can do at normal speed without tensing in pain.

“Well, smart guy,” you say. “You ran off and left me for half the day, and didn’t feed me. So, I forced myself up and… went on a little scavenger hunt. To the kitchen.” You say simply. He scoffs and strides over to you, stopping to lean against the counter behind you. You turn to face him, and he glances at your bandage.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, no tone or condescension evident in his voice. You take his hand in yours, and his eyes gaze at you in silent question. You press his palm to your side, and smile softly at him. All those years thinking he was your enemy; all those years thinking he would truly hurt you; all those years suppressing what you knew was true all along. Maybe he wasn’t the bad guy that everyone made him out to be. He was a good male.

“Stronger than you thought, hmm?” You say with a wink. His eyes soften, and a little smile plays on his lips as his other hand braces your other hip bone. He pulls you close, so close your pelvis is touching his upper thighs. You peer up at him through your lashes as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You’ve always been the strongest woman I’ve known.”

You blush at his words, finally accepting what you’ve been running from all along; you care for Eris. Truly, you did. Why else would you winnow here, of all places? Why else would you feel a familiar tug on your heart strings when he was around?

You cared.

And, Cauldron behold; he did too.

“And… you had to show me how strong you were today?” You ask, your tone dipping low. Eris rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“All I did was go over there, and demand to know why the hell they’d allow for you to be kidnapped in your own home-“ You gasp and swat his arm lightly.

“Eris!” You scold. He grins down at you, taking your face in his hands and looking at you lovingly.

“Maybe I should irritate you more… look at you, taking initiative and putting me in my place.” He chuckles. Your face reddens, and you stare at him wide-eyed as he runs his knuckles down your jaw, his cool silver ring easing the burning hot you felt beneath your cheek.

“Maybe I should do what I’m suppos-“ Eris cuts you off with a tsk tsk tsk, pulling you in close and finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You part your lips, fingers caressing his jaw and threading through his hair as his lips dance with yours. His fingers trail from your cheek down to your waist, holding you close as one hand runs up and down your side; grabbing firmly when your teeth graze his bottom lip. He pulls away, breathless as he supplies you a feline grin.

“Now, where is the fun in that?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

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