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soaps-mohawk · 5 months

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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.”

NEXT ->

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader #John price x reader #captain John price x reader #kyle gaz Garrick x reader #Kyle Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #Johnny soap mactavish x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

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scribefindegil · 10 months

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When you encounter a person who does not do something that you consider normative, you need to understand that they could be either stating a barrier or expressing a boundary. A barrier is "I would like to partake of the normative activity, but I can't due to other factors." A boundary is "I have made a decision not to participate in the normative activity."

Many people do not believe that boundaries actually exist! This is why it's so common to give a clear "No" on an issue and get inundated with people saying "But have you tried-" They can't conceptualize that anyone might actually want to avoid X thing, so they assume that you totally want to do X and you would love X so much if only they could figure out a way around whatever pesky obstacle is getting in your way. But humanity contains multitudes, and for any given experience you consider vital for happiness I promise there are people who are Just Not Interested.

If someone is stating a boundary, do NOT talk about how sad their life must be, and do NOT try to push them! Just accept that their life experience is very different from your own, and isn't that a beautiful thing?

Barriers are different. Barriers suck. With boundaries, the only problem is other people being dicks. With barriers, the problem is the barrier itself . . . and probably, additionally, people being dicks. There's really not a way to win in the people being dicks department when you don't do something that other people have decided is Necessary For Humaning.

If someone is talking about a barrier they face, still don't talk about how sad their life must be, although it's fine to commiserate with a friend if they're complaining. It's hard! Some barriers are pretty insurmountable; the person might not ever get to do X even though they want to. And a lot of people don't believe that this kind of barrier exists either; we're very much taught that you can do anything if you try hard enough, when that is simply not true. If someone tells you that they can't do something, listen to them and respect that.

The only reason for not doing X that people really acknowledge as real are the surmountable barriers. And these are real, but even in these cases you should always assume that the person knows themself best and not give advice unless they've specifically asked for it. But if they have asked, it's chill to try to brainstorm solutions with them.

As someone who has both things going on, it really sucks that people tend to assume that everything is a) a barrier issue and b) that they personally have the solution to it. Don't do this.

The only way you can tell if something is a boundary or a barrier is to listen to people and believe them.

Example:

If you offer someone a drink and they say, "No thanks . . . I haven't really found anything that I like yet," (barrier, potentially surmountable) it is probably cool to ask them if they're open to trying something new, and if they say yes ask about their tastes to try to find a drink they would enjoy! They might like it or they might not.

If you offer someone a drink and they say, "I can't, it interacts with my meds," (barrier, insurmountable) you can say, "Aw, that sucks!" and offer them something nonalcoholic.

If you offer someone a drink and they say, "I don't drink," (BOUNDARY) you should give them a mocktail and shut the fuck up.

#this post is about being ace and also being a teetolaler and also being disabled and also--#there are some things i don't want to do and i am sick of people assuming that really i *must* want to #becuase no one could *really* be uninterested in drinking or sex or whatever #and there are also some things that i desperately want to do that i can't because of the curse #but a random stranger doesn't know which is which unless i tell them #you've got to listen to people when they tell you what they want or don't want to do #and you've got to listen to people when they tell you what they can and can't do

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thevillainswhore · 2 days

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Loverboy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Bucky, a lovesick, pining super soldier, vows to keep his feelings for you a secret — no matter how obvious his crush may seem. Those plans are ruined between a meddling Sam, an embarrassing fall, and a visit to the medbay with you.

Warnings: Avengers AU, Bucky’s POV, fluff, crack (my lame attempt at comedy), suggestive thoughts (no smut), just our boy being a lovesick little bean with a big ol’ crush.

Author’s Note: Dividers by @saradika. Proofread by @buckys-wintersoldier, thank you so much sweetie, I love you!! This was inspired by a wonderful request from @prettyboy56, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy x

“Hi, Bucky.”

Instantly, he sputtered over his mouthful of cereal, eyes watering from his food going down the wrong way.

Bucky knew that melodic voice before his gaze even reached its owner. You entered the kitchen, wiggling your fingers at him in greeting.

Clearing his throat, he swiped his bowl to the side, his breakfast now forgotten about, and directed his attention solely onto you. “Hi—um h—hello, doll.”

The muscles of your cheeks lifted up to your eyes in a smile that made Bucky swoon. Hard.

Your eyes fell to Sam then, who stood in the corner, fresh from a workout with a shit eating on his face. “Good morning, Samuel.”

“Mornin’, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

Bucky fought the growl rising in his throat, the unprecedented possessiveness caving its way through its internal barriers in your presence.

You grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and closed the door, leaning your back against it to take a big gulp.

“Not bad at all.” You licked your lips, ridding the dryness that came from a long slumber before your eyes lit up. “Oh, by the way! I drank some of that tea you recommended. It’s helped a bunch—”

Bucky zoned out while you continued to express your gratitude to Sam. He couldn’t help the way his eyes dilated as he rested his head in the palm of his vibranium hand, a lovesick sigh escaping his lips. You were just so gorgeous – a deity in human form right in front of his own very eyes. Bucky had never considered himself so lucky in all his time on earth to be within your vicinity.

In his own world of oggling, Bucky didn’t notice how the conversation fell short between you and Sam. Neither did he realise how the two of you were staring at him; you with concern and Wilson smothering his laughter with his hand.

“Bucky? Sweetheart?” He finally registered that you were speaking to him and almost choked, again, on his own spit.

“Mhm?” Bucky murmured, drunk off your attention.

You smiled once again, so devastatingly beautiful that his left arm whirred in stupor. “Are you okay? You feeling alright?” Not waiting for a response, you walked over to him and Bucky almost let his eyes roll to the back of his head when you lifted your wrist to his forehead. “Jeez, you’re a little hot, Buck.”

Sam keeled over in hysterics, unable to keep his composure any longer. Meanwhile, a bright red blossom of colour rose up from the skin of Bucky’s neck all the way up to his cheeks.

Had Bucky not been embarrassingly infatuated by you, the throwaway comment wouldn’t have had any effect on him. But this was you. The woman who had the ability to make him melt on the spot.

While logic and a basic level of common sense screamed at him that you were talking about his temperature, his mind could only conjure up the fact you had called him hot.

Bucky saw your mouth moving, however he couldn’t concentrate on the sound of the words coming out of it. You were still touching him, patting his cheeks and sweeping the tendrils of hair that had fell out from behind his ears out of his face. The close proximity of your bodies threw him through a loop and without even realising, his thighs spread further, subconsciously begging you to forego all boundaries and smother yourself against him.

Gently tapping his nose three times, you managed to gain his full attention again. “You seem out of it, sweetie. Maybe you should go down to the medbay. See if you’re coming down with a fever or something.”

Sam blew out a breath of air. “Yeah, because that’s what’s wrong with him.”

You threw a lighthearted glare his way before bringing your eyes back to Bucky. “Promise me you’ll get seen to?”

How could he refuse when you asked so sweetly? “Anything you want.” He vowed sincerely.

Scrunching your nose, you chucked his chin and whispered under your breath, “Good boy.”

Bucky almost whimpered when you withdrew your hands and stepped back. He so desperately wanted to follow you and nudge your arm until you paid attention to him once more. Your touch was fire and a cool breeze all at once. Electricity that created static across his stubbled cheek, yet also stoked a warmth through his entire body.

Peace. He’d never felt anything like it. Never before felt drunk from just the delicate essence of a perfume or experienced the loosening of his limbs, relaxing until his legs felt like jelly whenever you so much as cast him a glance.

You grabbed a piece of fruit from the table, ready to go down to the gym and train. “Catch you later, Sam,” you called over your shoulder. Meeting Bucky’s eyes a final time, you winked while you headed for the elevator. “Bye, sweetheart.”

Bucky’s gaze was glued to you, following you out hopelessly until you were completely out of sight.

He was fucked — well and truly out of his depth.

Sam crossed his arms and smirked. “You are down bad, man.”

Bucky swiped a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “Fuckin’ tell me about it.”

“This is serious.” Sam sobered up, his lips softening into an honest smile.

With an embarrassingly loud thud against the island countertop, Bucky let his head drop. “I have no idea what to do, Sam. I thought this crush would have passed by now but it’s been months.”

“Well,” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Have you even tried asking her out?”

“And why would I do that?” Bucky asked, genuinely confused.

Sam sputtered over his words. “What do you mean—Because that’s what people do when they like someone, you dumbass!”

Bucky had lost enough braincells daydreaming about you constantly. He didn’t need to be told what he already knew. But the pressure of asking you out to then have a chance of being rejected? He would never come back from that. “Yeah, no thanks,” he mumbled.

“Come on, man. What’s the worst that could happen?” Sam asked.

Bucky lifted his head up and huffed sarcastically. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe she could turn me down and rip my heart out into little pieces, so much that I would hide out in my room for the rest of eternity never to be seen again?”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Bucky sighed longingly. “Let me wallow in my misery alone, Sam.”

“Why? So you can spend your days staring at her with your googly eyes and drooling over her.”

“I have never drooled over her,” Bucky snarled.

A twinkle shone in Sam’s eye, a mischievous grin donning his face. “Then what’s that on your chin?”

Bucky’s eyes widened and he quickly brought his hand up to his face to check if he did in fact have any wetness coating his mouth. Finding none, he looked back to Sam with a scowl. “I hate you.”

Sam shook his head with laughter. “You shouldn’t make it so easy to tease you, loverboy.”

With a growl, Bucky lifted from his seat and stormed out of the kitchen.

The irritating voice followed him. “Don’t forget training tomorrow morning, loverboy!”

The sun was shining over the compound the next morning and so came the bright idea from Steve that all exercise activities should be held outside. While the recruits in training buffed up on their sparring with the Captain, the rest of the avengers worked out as they saw fit.

As usual, Sam took any opportunity possible to annoy Bucky, which brought them together, running laps around the outdoor track.

“When are you gonna man up and ask her out then, Cyborg? Pretty girl ain’t gonna be available forever.”

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t run ahead of Sam. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t. Maybe the pace he kept alongside Wilson allowed him to stare at you so clearly in your tight workout leggings and sports bra as sweat sensually rolled over your skin. Maybe.

“I’m not asking her out, Sam. Drop it.”

Sam huffed out an annoyed breath. “Listen, man. It’s not as if you’ve got nothing going for you. As much as you’re a grumpy shit, you’ve got them blue eyes the chicks love. Gets them all gooey when you give them intense eye contact, y’know?” He reluctantly added, “And they dig the brooding, bad boy, leather jacket vibe.”

Bucky let out a rare smile within the presence of Sam. “You tryna hit on me, Wilson?”

“Look, all I’m saying is you have a chance.” Sam slyly glanced over the field. “And if you don’t quit fuckin’ around, that chance is gonna disappear.”

The smile instantly dropped from Bucky’s face. “What do you mean by that?”

Sam’s signature smirk came back with vengeance. “Your girls lookin’ kinda cute today. So I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you ain’t the only one who’s got their eye on her.”

Naturally, Bucky followed his instinct and let his eyes look over at you. You were a fucking wonder, of course he knew that. But heeding Sam’s ominous warning, Bucky allowed his gaze to venture out, only allowing you to blur into the background for a couple of seconds while he took stock of the other male, and female, recruits.

Low and behold, plenty of other people wantonly stared at you while you completed your circuit, almost salivating over their barely concealed pining. As much as Bucky hated to admit it, the fucker was right. You were the pinnacle of everyone’s attention.

With the way you were bending over, squatting and looking like an angel amidst the perspiration the sun brought on, Bucky wasn’t sure if he could actually blame anyone for it.

That didn’t stop the ugly, green eyed beast within him that wanted to tear everyone’s eyes out for daring to glimpse at you.

It was silly, he knew he had no right to feel any sort of possessive nature for you. Unfortunately, you didn’t belong to him. Still, he couldn’t control the deep rooted urges that whispered the kinds of fun he’d have gouging out eyeballs that looked where they weren't supposed to.

Knowing he had stirred the pot enough, Sam figured it was time to try and hit the final nail in the coffin in order to make his friend move his ass. “Y’know what gives you an advantage though, man?”

Bucky continued to death stare the surrounding agents, while keeping up with his steady jog. “What’s that?”

“Guess who’s making eyes at you right now.”

At breakneck speed, Bucky snapped his head back around to you, only to indeed find you staring at him with a fire in your eyes and your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

A violent shudder ran down his spine and for a moment, the whole world stopped on its axis, allowing Bucky to revel in a daydream brought to life.

That was until his mind snapped him back into the present. The super soldier was majestic on his feet in a fight, graceful yet utterly dangerous out on the field even with the pressure a mission came with.

However to his utter bewilderment, you happened to be the most dangerous being he had ever come across, because in all of his years as a trained, professional assassin, Bucky had never, never, tripped over his own feet.

And so, inevitably, Bucky’s face ungracefully met the asphalt of the outside track with an audible thunk.

A collective of gasps, oo’s, and ah’s, rang around the large group. Bucky could physically feel the coating of red, hot embarrassment climbing up to his now scratched cheeks.

Bucky couldn’t see the look of shame and pity on Sam’s face as he dropped his head into his hands. All he was capable of was fantasizing faking his own death and moving far, far away where no one who witnessed his fall could ever find him.

With a painful, deep groan, Bucky managed to roll himself over. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes and allow himself to accept reality yet and so he kept them closed, waiting for the ground to swallow him up or for the beaming sun to slowly incinerate him, melt him into the ground with his shame and dignity.

But instead of either of those, a shadow casted over him, the harsh brightness behind his eyelids dulling down. Slowly, he peeked an eye open, only for mortification to kick him in the gut when he found you standing over him.

“You alright there, Soldier?” Your hands were set on your hips, those deliciously curved grooves of your body that he had shamelessly stared at one too many times during gym sessions.

“Mhm,” he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing roughly. “Just peachy.”

Even though you’d just seen him eat dirt, in front of hundreds of learning recruits and the rest of the avengers, your smile was kind as you held out your hand. “Need some help?”

Bucky took your offering, sliding his clammy palm into your dry one and hoisted himself up with your grip. He hadn’t needed your help, he was a super soldier with a metal arm; an agility and strength beyond normal human ability. But he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to feel your soft skin against his.

He couldn’t look you in the eye as he stood up, aware of your gaze glued to him. “Th-Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem,” you said. “Although, you’ve got a few nasty looking cuts on your cheeks.”

Bucky brought his left hand up to his face, hissing when the cool vibranium stung the open wounds. “Ah, it’s nothin’—don't worry about it. Nothing a few hours won’t fix.”

You shook your head fondly. “Well, how about I walk you to the infirmary and we get some ointment on them? It wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.”

Bucky choked on his own spit and snapped his eyes to yours. “W-We?”

Your smile was blinding — so beautiful with an ability to stop time. At least for him anyway. “Yeah, why not? It looks like you could use a hand—y’know, since you’re a little clumsy on your feet today.” The cheeky smirk that followed your words almost sent him to an early grave.

His cheeks blazed. Bucky was sure he looked utterly stupid, with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. But he couldn’t help the effect you had on him. “I um—I— ha, I guess.”

Your eyes glinted mischievously. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

Not trusting his voice to hold steady, Bucky simply nodded.

“Great,” you approved. “Just one question though, are we going to keep holding hands on the way?”

Looking down to the space between you, Bucky felt his mouth dry when he saw that he hadn’t yet released his hand from yours. “I’m—oh fuck—I’m so sorry.”

Still, he made no move to slacken his grip.

You tightened your lips, and he knew you were willing yourself not to laugh for his sake. Sam would have a fucking field day with this.

Though to his surprise, instead of pulling away like he expected you to, you began pulling him along, hands still interweaved. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, Bucky.”

His name on your lips was akin to a siren singing her song; dragging helpless seamen to their deaths. A thought crossed his mind then, that he didn’t think he would mind so much if he sank to his reckoning, not if your voice was the last thing he ever heard.

“Okay.” Bucky followed you blindly, eyes glued to your conjoined hands and disbelieving of his luck.

You had led the way towards the medbay and found a cozy, private room that the doctors used for small injuries. Bucky sat impatiently on the side of the medical bed, twiddling his thumbs and fidgeting restlessly. Never had he been so close to you, alone.

Bucky internally prayed with all his faith that you couldn’t hear the rapid staccato of his heartbeat. He was sure if he was hooked up to a monitor, the doctors would be thoroughly concerned about his health.

Finally having gathered all the supplies you deemed necessary along with a first aid box, you walked back over to the bed and dumped everything next to him.

“So,” you began, an uneasy conspiratorial tone to your voice that weirdly reminded him of Sam. “Wanna tell me what happened out there?”

“I—,” Bucky sheepishly scratched the back of his neck while his cheeks bloomed crimson red. “I must’ve just tripped over my own feet.”

He tried to shrug off his nonchalance, but he knew by your raised eyebrow you didn’t believe him. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing a big, strong super soldier such as yourself has any trouble finding his footing.”

Before Bucky could muster up any other excuse but the truth, you ripped open the packet of a medical wipe and warned him, “I’m sorry. This is gonna sting.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he said with bravado.

Bucky wasn’t prepared for the twinkle in your eye as you mumbled under your breath, “I’m sure it isn’t, Sargeant.”

The breath got knocked out of his lungs. Oh did that do things to him.

Suddenly, vivid images of you spread out on his bed wearing nothing but his old army hat while you screamed out his rank ran wild in his mind.

Luckily, you were too preoccupied with cleaning the dried blood of his wound to notice him discreetly palming the bulge in his athletic shorts, trying to hide the effect you had on him.

“Are you certain there is absolutely no other reason as to why I’m playing nurse right now, then?” Your feline grin was sexy and scary. “No possible distractions that led you off path?”

There was no way you could read minds, right? Bucky doubled down on his denial, shaking his head from side to side and letting the length of his hair hide the truth in his eyes.

“I’ll take your word for it then.” You finished up and reached for the healing gel. “I know the serum enhances your ability to repair the cuts, but I’d still like to use this.” Looking into his eyes, you asked, “Only as long as you’re okay with that, of course.”

Time stopped and the two of you were caught in the other’s gaze. It was such a small gesture, one you probably didn’t even realise meant the world to him. But you asked him for permission on something that would affect his autonomy and if Bucky didn’t already have a hundred ways he was falling for you, that would have been the cherry on top.

“Yeah,” he breathed airily. “Yeah, I’m good with it, doll.”

Unseen to him before, you ducked your head and sweeped your hair behind your ear and if Bucky didn’t know any better, he was sure you were shy.

He couldn’t help the large grin he sported. He was always so enamored with you, quick to falter in your presence and become unsure of himself. Right now though, a small bout of bravery returned. “Ready when you are,” he cheekily murmured.

You hastily rushed to compose yourself. Clearing your throat, you squeezed the tube of gel, allowing a small drop of the cool liquid on the tip of your finger and stepped between his legs to gently dab it onto his cuts.

“Okay, you’re all fixed up now.” With a last swipe of his forehead, you smiled. “Don’t worry, Buck. You still look handsome.”

He tugged his plump bottom lip between his teeth. “You think I’m handsome?”

You giggled. “I would be blind if I didn’t.”

Bucky blinked at you slowly, still processing your words and trying to calm the excited bubble rising in his throat.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t act all coy, Bucky. You must have heard the whispers of the recruits. They stare at you all the time, whispering and giggling to each other.”

With the most confidence he had ever mustered up, he responded, “Truthfully, I’m too busy staring at someone else to notice, doll.”

The shock of his sudden boldness was glaringly obvious on your face — it was you this time who held your mouth open, lost for words.

Bucky’s body screamed at him to tell you that he was in fact head over heels for you. That had he known falling over in front of the full compound would lead him within a hair’s breadth away from you, he’d do it all over again.

But you seemed to recover after a couple of seconds, clearing your throat and making yourself busy to avoid his eyes. “So, I’ve got another question.”

“Oh?” Bucky cocked his head.

“Yeah.” You smiled while placing everything back into the first aid box as you found it. “I’ve been hearing a few rumours around the compound recently.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped with dread.

“You wouldn’t know anything about those, would you?”

“I—” Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Oh,” you hummed. “So it’s not true then? You don’t have a crush on me?”

Fuck.

Panicking, Bucky scoffed, though it came off sounding too pathetic, too breezy. “Me? Have a crush on you? That’s—Ha! Nope. No way. Not at all.”

He watched as you nodded to yourself. Internally, he was begging for the floor to swallow him while he cringed at his own stupidity.

“Well,” you shrugged. “That’s a shame, I guess.”

Bucky’s head shot up, eyes wide and shock written over his features. “E-Excuse me?”

“Oh, it's nothing really.” There was a sparkle in your eye that screamed trouble. “You said you didn’t have a crush on me, so it doesn’t matter.”

Within seconds, Bucky jumped off the bed and leapt towards you, not even noticing how he had grabbed your hands. “Doll, please. You can’t leave a guy hanging like that.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you dramatically exhaled and decided to put him out of his misery. “Leave you hanging? Damn, Buck. It’s not as if I’ve been waiting patiently for you to ask me out for months or anything like that.”

The air became humid and stuffy and suddenly the clothes attached to Bucky’s body felt too tight and restricting. “You—What now?”

You rolled your lips inwards, trying to smother your laughter. “Bucky, honey,” you gently murmured. “I’ve heard what the others have been gossiping about. I’ve definitely heard Sam telling the team about your crush on me.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “That fuckin’ punk.”

You squeezed his hands reassuringly and offered him a warm smile when he looked at you. “I’ve just been waiting to hear it from the horse's mouth himself.”

Bucky’s eyes darted between yours, trying to find any hint of decievement. “You’re serious.”

“Mhm,” you whispered. “Deadly.”

It took him a couple of seconds to let the new information sink in. Clearing his throat, Bucky untightened his fierce grip on your hands and hesitantly slid them down to latch onto your waist. “So,” he mumbled. “Say if I asked you out to dinner tonight… You wouldn’t tell me I’m a fool and break my heart into a million pieces?”

Butterflies erupted in Bucky’s stomach at the sensation of your hands sliding over his chest to rest against his neck. “No, Bucky,” you chuckled. “I would tell you that I’m looking forward to our first date, tonight. Nowhere fancy, just casual. Six o’clock sharp.”

Bucky smiled, all beaming and ecstatic. “I wouldn’t dream of being late.”

“Good.” You leaned up onto your tip toes and ghosted your lips over his ear. “See you very soon then, Sargeant.”

Tingles shot down Bucky’s spine and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He fought tooth and nail to crush the moan that rose up his throat and in his internal struggle, he missed how you’d sneakily slipped out of his hold and started to saunter towards the door.

He almost begged you to come back; the thought of having to wait for you until the evening was unbearable. But those pesky butterflies that invaded his stomach came back strong and fierce as his gaze became glued to the sway of your hips and the sweet perfume that lingered in your exit.

“Oh,” you stopped suddenly at the doorway and looked over your shoulder. “One more thing. Don’t go tripping over again, you hear me?” You raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Can’t have you falling for me.”

Your damn smirk was intoxicating and Bucky thought himself the luckiest fella alive to be the one taking you out. He licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have a little trouble with that request, Ma’am.”

The clench of your thighs was unmissable. The way your eyes dilated called to him. Bucky had more game than he realised and he kept that new information tucked safely into the corner of his mind for a later date.

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to. Your actions told Bucky everything he needed to know and so he wiggled his fingers with a huge grin locked onto his face and watched you longingly as you left his sight.

The minute he couldn’t hear your footsteps any longer, Bucky pumped his fist up into the air and began dancing on the spot.

In his own bubble of happiness, he didn’t hear the footsteps of a new person entering the hallway. Only when an amused clearing of the throat echoed from the doorway did Bucky abruptly stop his dancing and slowly swivel to the intruder.

Sam stood there, all cocky and mirthful with a shit eating grin on his face. “About time you bagged the girl, man. Dont’cha think?”

Instantly, Bucky growled and grabbed the closest apparatus. With a pair of medical scissors, he charged towards Sam, who was quick to wipe the smirk off his face and skid out of the room with a scream.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes oneshot

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springtyme · 6 months

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heyy love, could you do an aaron hotchner x fem bau reader where they dated in secretly for a while but then he broke up with her. the reason he broke up with her is because he is her boss and that always was something that made him feel doubtful about their relationship. it’s up to you if you want to end it with an happy ending.

thank youu

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ♡

Thank you so much for the request, dear anon! Such a lovely one and I was so happy to write for Hotch! mwah <3

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader || Main masterlist || Spotify

summary: You suspect that you've been in love with Aaron Hotchner since you first laid eyes on him three years ago. Now you're on your way to Idaho to go on your first case together since he broke your heart two weeks ago.

word count: 4.5k

warnings/tags: Angst and fluff. Boss/employee relationship. Hurt/comfort. Heartbreak. Kissing. Sharing a bed. (first time I write for Hotch, so please bear with me) Haven't proof read yet. I don't know if I really like how it ended up tbh, but maybe it's just because I was really tired while writing it..?

You keep your gaze on the pages of the book, despite the words keep blurring together and after having read the same paragraph four times over, without even having registered what you have read. You’ve given up on actually getting any reading done, but you don’t want anyone talking to you right now and you still have almost four hours left before you land in Idaho. So you keep eyes glued to the book, hoping that the act of pretending to read will deter any unwanted conversation.

You can feel his eyes on you, not all the time, but you feel how his gaze occasionally lingers on you. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you sense his presence nonetheless.

Taking in a deep breath you look up from the book to steal a glance in his direction, catching his eye for a brief moment before he looks away. There’s a flicker of something in his expression, a hint of longing that mirrors your own. But just as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone, replaced by the stoic mask he wears so well as he continues his conversation with Derek.

The last two weeks have been painful, filled with a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions since Aaron had ended your relationship, before it even had a chance to really begin. It’s been three years since you joined the BAU and from the very beginning you had felt drawn to Aaron Hotchner in a way that defied logic and reason, like there was a connection between you that transcended the professional boundaries of boss and subordinate.

A silly crush is what it had started as, but the more you got to know him, the more you realized that what you felt was far more than just that. It was a deep, undeniable attraction, a connection that went beyond the surface level. And as time passed, that initial spark grew into something more profound, something that stirred your soul and filled your heart with warmth.

Sometimes you had let yourself hope that he felt the same way, that the moments of shared glances and unspoken words between you held a deeper meaning, but you had never dared act on it, or let yourself get your hopes up too high. The reality of Aaron’s position as your boss and the boundaries it imposed had always stood as a barrier. The unspoken rules of professionalism, the fear of risking his or your career and the harmony of the team had kept your feelings hidden, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation.

It was three months ago that things had changed between you. It had been a moment of vulnerability, a shared confession during a late-night conversation with the raw emotions of the aftermath of an exceptionally harrowing case that had laid bare the depths of your emotions, and the longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long had reached a point of no return.

He had kissed you that night and it was sweet and tender, yet charged with unspoken desire and desperation. It was a moment of surrender, a brief glimpse into a world where the barriers between you could be broken down and the feelings you had both been suppressing could be allowed to flourish.

The next couple months had been a whirlwind of stolen moments and whispered confessions, each one deepening the bond between you in ways that words could never fully capture. There were secret meetings in secluded corners of the BAU office, stolen kisses in the quiet of the night, and shared glances that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, a shadow began to loom over your newfound connection. Aaron had started to act distant and reserved, his once warm and affectionate demeanor now replaced by a noticeable aloofness. And two weeks ago on a night where the both of you had stayed late to finish some reports he had told you that it all had been a mistake, and that the two of you should maintain a strictly professional relationship moving forward.

His words had cut through the air with a sharp finality and landed like a heavy blow, shattering the fragile hope that had still lingered within you. Aaron’s eyes had been averted, unable to meet your gaze as he spoke the words that shattered your heart.

You steal another glance at Aaron, watching as he maintains his composure in conversation with Derek, his mask of professionalism firmly in place.

You turn back to your book, the words still a jumbled mess on the page. You can’t pretend to read anymore, not when your heart is heavy with memories and unspoken words. With a sigh, you close the book, making Emily, who is seated across the aisle, glance up from the case file she is reading with a questioning look.

You offer her a faint smile, attempting to convey a sense of normalcy despite the turmoil swirling within you.

“You okay?” she asks as she sets aside the case file. You appreciate her gesture, knowing that Emily’s intuition often went beyond words.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on you. With a small nod, you offer Emily a reassuring smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a lot on my mind,” you reply softly, the words carrying a weight that belie their simplicity.

Emily nods in understanding, her gaze holding a sense of sympathy. “He’s an idiot, by the way,” she says with a wry smile, and you feel how your heart stops for a second, panicking at the thought of Emily uncovering the truth of what has unfolded between you and Aaron.

“What do you mean?” you stammer, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for Emily’s response.

Emily just smiles at you as she picks up her file again. “We’re profilers, it’s not hard to read between the lines,” Emily says with a knowing glint in her eyes, her smile reassuring and understanding. “And you’re not as hard to read as you think, it’s clear that you have been dating someone, you have been looking like a smitten kitten for months, it’s been really cute to see, by the way, but something has changed recently. You’ve been distant, and often lost in thought sulking,” Emily continues, her tone gentle yet perceptive.

It’s not like it really surprises you, given how perceptive Emily is, and how deeply you’ve been feeling the shifts in your relationship with Aaron, but you had still hoped that you could have hidden your feelings from colleagues.

“So, yeah, whoever he is that has you feeling like this is an idiot, you’re clearly a catch,” Emily says with a reassuring smile, her words carrying a sense of warmth and understanding.

You feel relief wash over you, though Emily has sensed that you’ve been heartbroken, she hasn’t figured out that it is our boss that has been the course of it.

“Thanks, Em,” you say, offering the dark haired woman a tired but grateful smile.

Emily returns your smile. “If you ever need to talk or just... not talk, I’m here,” she offers, her voice warm and reassuring.

“I appreciate that,” you say, and you do really mean it, but you know that you’re not ready to talk about any of this yet. “But I think I’ll try to take a nap first, hopefully clear my head a bit before we land.”

“Mm, sounds like a plan,”Emily responds with a soft chuckle.

Grabbing the blanket from the empty seat next to you, you lean back in your seat, engulfing your body in the soft, fluffy material.

Before closing your eyes you cast one last glance at Aaron, his profile etched against the soft glow of the cabin lights. The memories of stolen moments with stolen kisses floods your mind, mingling with the ache of his recent rejection. You feel a pang in your heart, a mix of longing and sorrow, as you turn away, curling up in your seat, closing your eyes to the world outside.

You pull the blanket closer around you, the soft warmth of the blanket envelops you, cocooning you in a sense of comfort and security, providing a shield against the turmoil of your heart. The gentle hum of the airplane engines lulls you into a state of relaxation, the rhythmic sound serving as a soothing backdrop to your thoughts and emotions.

As you feel yourself drifting further into the realm of sleep, your senses start to weaken, the sounds of the airplane cabin fading into a distant murmur and you barely register the tears gently sliding down your cheeks before you drift off.

· · · · ·

You’re softly pulled out of sleep by the gentle touch of a hand on your shoulder. As you slowly flutter your eyes open, the soft glow of the cabin lights illuminates the figure beside you.

“Hey, sleepyhead, we’re about to land,” Derek’s voice is warm and filled with a hint of amusement as he gently rouses you from your slumber.

You blink a few times, the remnants of sleep still lingering in your mind as you adjust to the reality of the present moment. With a small smile, you offer Derek a nod of gratitude. Slowly, you sit up in your seat, the blanket slipping off your shoulders as you get ready for touchdown.

As the plane begins its descent, you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you - longing, sorrow, and a hint of resignation. The turbulence of your heart echoes the turbulence in the jet cabin as you start dissenting onto a lower altitude.

As the cabin lights dim in preparation for landing, you look up to find Aaron’s eyes looking in your direction, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he looks away, a shadow covering his features in the soft glow. This would all be so much easier if he would stop looking at you all the time.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions as the plane continues its descent. The mix of longing and sorrow in your heart feels almost suffocating, but you push it aside. You have to focus, have to keep your head clear for the sake of the case, you are a professional and you are not going to let your emotions cloud your mind. As the wheels touch the runway with a slight jolt, signaling your arrival in Idaho, you

And as the team disembarks from the plane and makes their way to the awaiting SUVs, you feel a sense of resolve settling within you, happy to no longer be confined to the limited room of the jet cabin and as you step out into the crisp evening air, you release a sigh of relief.

You watch Aaron walk ahead of you, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable as he walks to one of the cars and you beeline for the other. You keep your gaze fixed outside the window for most of the car ride, watching the landscape pass by in a blur as the car speeds towards its destination, a little sleepy town about an hour away.

As you and the team arrive at the local police station, you can feel the tension between you and Aaron simmering just beneath the surface. The case at hand requires your full attention, and you push aside the turbulent thoughts and emotions that threaten to consume you as you focus on the task at hand.

Throughout the evening and early night, you work alongside the team, profiling the unsub and piecing together clues to hopefully catch the unsub before they strike again. The familiarity of the work, the rhythm of profiling and investigating grounding you in the present moment, making you go into a state of laser focused professionalism. You find a sense of purpose in the work you do, a reminder that you are more than the turmoil of your emotions.

But as the night wears on, the team regroups at the hotel to get a few hours of sleep before continuing the investigation in the morning. You find yourself standing outside the small hotel, looking up at the dark, star lit sky and as you turn to head inside and join the rest of the team, you feel your heart do a little jump in your chest as you see Aaron standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you, his usual stoic expression faltered, his brown eyes softening as they meet yours.

For a moment, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing in the quiet night, and suddenly, you know that the decision you have made to the hard choice you’ve struggled with for the past two weeks is the right one.

Without saying a word, you walk towards him, a mix of uncertainty and determination coursing through you. As you come to a stop in front of him, he opens his mouth to speak, but you raise a hand to silence him. “Not here,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, and you gently take his hand, leading him towards a secluded corner of the hotel grounds.

As you come to a stop, you turn to face him, the dim light of the night casting shadows across his face. With a heavy sigh, you search his eyes for any sign of the man you once knew, the man who had kissed you with such tenderness and held you with such care, for the man you think might’ve even loved you. You had loved him, had long before he kissed you, and you still love.

“Aaron, I…” you begin, trailing off as you feel all the words in your head leave you as you look into his eyes, remembering that night he had kissed you for the first time. It had been a late night just like this one, it had been the first time you had ever called him by his first name.

“Let’s sit,” he says, his voice gentle yet strained, as he guides you to a nearby bench. You both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Aaron speaks, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for leading you on, for... for everything.” His words are filled with regret, and you can see the pain in his eyes, a pain that mirrors your own.

He reaches out his hand, hesitating before resting it on yours. His touch is soft and hesitant but filled with unspoken longing and you feel how your heart skips a beat, how you have missed the feeling of him touching you, even if it’s just the slightest of touches.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice now barely above a whisper.

‘But it did hurt, it hurt so, so much’, is what you want to say. But as you look into Aaron’s eyes, filled with regret and vulnerability, you find yourself unable to form the words, the intensity in the warm, chocolate brown depths of his gaze rendering you speechless. You see the conflict within him, the turmoil of emotions swirling beneath the surface, and you feel the need to avert your gaze.

You look down at his hand on yours, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine in the balm night air. For a moment, you allow yourself to savor the familiar sensation, the connection that still linger between you despite the circumstances.

Aaron’s hand tightens slightly around yours, a silent plea for understanding. “You deserve so much better than that,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

You take a deep breath, the words forming in your mind before you speak them out loud. “Maybe I don’t want you to decide for me what I do and don’t deserve,” you say, looking up at him again, your voice steady despite the feelings swirling within you. Aaron’s eyes widen slightly at your words, a mix of emotions crossing his features.

Now it’s his turn to be lost for words, which for some reason seems to give you a bit more courage. You fill your lungs with another deep breath before opening your mouth.

“I’m quitting,” you declare, your voice firm and resolute. You’ve been struggling with making the decision, but as you look at Aaron now, face lit up by the soft moon light you know that it is the only decision for you, you are never gonna be able to let him go if you keep working for the BAU. “I’m turning in my resignation letter when we get back from this case.”

Aaron’s eyes widen in shock, his grip on your hand tightening even more as he processes your words. The weight of your statement hangs heavy in the air between you, the unspoken implications of what this means for both of you settling in. You can see how a myriad of emotions flicker across his face – surprise, concern, and perhaps a glimmer of something else that you can’t quite place.

“You can’t do that,” Aaron’s voice is firm but filled with a mix of concern and resignation, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt

You can’t help but feel a pang of hurt at his words, it’s not like you had expected him to be happy about your decision, but a little, and probably naive, part of you had hoped that he would acknowledge that it would be the solution to how the two of you could be together, hoped that he still wanted that. But you’re not leaving the BAU for the slim chance that you can be with Aaron. You’re quitting because it’s become clear to you that it is the only solution. If the only time you can push aside the pain of being around him is when you’re actively investigating a violent crime case, you have to let him go, and you can only do that by leaving the BAU.

“Yes, I can… I have to, I think,” you say firmly, yet you feel your heart breaking a little by the thought of leaving. “I need to do this for myself. For my own well-being,” you continue, your gaze unwavering as you look into his eyes. “I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when it’s not.”

Aaron remains silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. Finally, he sighs, a hint of resignation in his voice. “I never wanted it to come to this,” he admits, his voice heavy with regret.

“I know,” you reply softly, a tinge of sorrow coloring your words. “But we both knew the risks when we started this.”

“I should never have put you in this position,” Aaron says, his gaze dropping to the ground as he speaks. “I should never have kissed you that night. Ilet my own feelings cloud my judgment, and I hurt you in the process. I’m your boss, and I took advantage, and I-I hurt you, and…”

“No, look at me, please.” You reach out and gently cub his cheek in your hand, making him meet your gaze. “Aaron, it wasn’t just you. I wanted it too, I wanted to be with you,” you confess, your voice breaking slightly with emotion. “I wanted to take the risk because I thought it was worth it. And maybe it was, for a while. But we can’t keep going like this, Aaron. It’s not fair to either of us.”

Aaron’s eyes search yours, a mix of emotions swirling within their depths. “What are you saying?” he asks softly, his voice filled with a hint of desperation.

“I’m saying that I need to let you go,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to let go of this hope that maybe someday we could find a way to be together. I can’t keep holding on to something that’s only causing us both pain.” Tears gather in the corners of your eyes as you speak, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. But despite the pain, you feel a sense of clarity wash over you, a sense of liberation in finally speaking the truth.

Aaron’s eyes soften, his hand coming up to gently grasp yours that’s still cupping his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice filled with regret and sorrow. You offer him a sad smile, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

“Me too, Aaron,” you say softly, your voice filled with a mix of love and heartbreak. As you stand up from the bench, you turn to walk away, the weight of your decision settling in your heart. But before you can take a step, you feel a hand grasp yours, stopping you in your tracks. You turn back to see Aaron standing before you, his eyes filled with determination and a hint of something you can’t quite place.

“I...I can’t let you leave without saying this,” Aaron begins, his voice wavering slightly. “I’ve been a fool. I’ve let my own fears and insecurities cloud my judgment, and in the process, I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let you go without telling you that I love you. ”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the depth of his confession washing over you like a wave. For a moment, you feel a flicker of hope ignite within you, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for the two of you. “But what does that mean, Aaron?” you ask softly, your voice filled with a mix of hope and trepidation. “What are you saying?”

Aaron takes a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he speaks. “I’m saying that I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to live with the regret of letting you slip away. I want to fight for a future where you are a part of my life. I know it won’t be easy, I know there are risks and complications, but I can’t let you go without at least trying cause I love you.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you look into Aaron’s eyes, the sincerity and love shining within them filling your heart with warmth and longing. Taking a step closer to Aaron, you reach out to cup his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with determination.

“I love you, too. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.”

Aaron’s eyes widen in surprise, a mix of emotions flickering across his features. Without another word, he closes the distance between the two of you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss filled with passion and longing. The world falls away as you melt into each other, lost in the moment of shared love and desire as the man you love kisses you under the moonlight.

The kiss deepens, becoming a promise of the future you both want to fight for, a pledge to overcome the obstacles that stand in your way, a balm for the weeks of heartbreak. And as you break apart, breathless and filled with emotion, you feel how your entire body shivers, already missing the feeling of Aaron’s warm lips against yours.

“You’re freezing,” Aaron frowns, quickly shredding himself of his suit jacket and draping it around your shoulders before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. “Let’s get you inside.”

You nod, your heart swelling with hope and love as he takes your hand in his, leading you back to the hotel. Hotel might be a little generous; it’s more of a bed and breakfast, with so few rooms that the team had to pair up and share, but it was the only accommodation in town and it is not like you and the team aren’t used to having to share rooms from time to time.

It turns out the rest of the team has already paired up and hit the hay, leaving only one room since you’re the last two to arrive. “Looks like you and I’ll have to share a room,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips, an hour ago you would be horrified by it, but now you’re absolutely thrilled about it.

“Yeah, looks like it,” he says with a soft smile on his face as you get your keys before taking your hand in his again and leading you to your shared room.

As you step inside, the warmth of the room envelops you, melding with the warmth of Aaron’s touch as he pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours once more in a sweet, tender embrace. In the dim light of the hotel room, with the moon casting a soft glow through the curtains, the emotions swirling within you are no longer suffocating, but freeing, as you surrender to the love that has bound the two of you together.

As you finally break apart and look around it turns out that the room is a twin room, with two beds divided by a bedside table. It makes sense that your coworkers didn’t leave you to share a room with a shared bed.

You share a knowing look with him before the both of you start to quickly get ready for bed, it’s late and you’re both exhausted and there is only a few hours till you’ll need to get up again.

You share one last kiss before moving to your respective beds, but as you lay there, the distance between you feels unbearable. The man you have been pining over for three years has just a little while ago told you that he loves you after weeks of heartbreak and he lies so close yet you can’t even touch him? That’s ridiculous!

“I can’t do this,” you whisper, your voice filled with longing as you look at Aaron.

“I know,” he replies, his voice just as filled with yearning as he pulls his covers to the side letting you slip into the bed with him.

You settle into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, and you feel as if you’re finally coming home. The walls that had been built between you are crumbling down, allowing you to embrace the love that has always been between you.

As you snuggle closer to Aaron, his arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. The turmoil of the past weeks fades away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and love.

“I’m never letting you go again,” Aaron whispers, his breath warm against your ear, and you know that he means it. And you know that you never want to let him go either.

With a smile on your face, and your heart full of love and hope, you drift off to sleep in the arms of the man you love, knowing that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you will face them together.

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leclerc-hs · 9 months

Text

ever heard of casual? - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which true feelings are kind of shown between charles and his daughter's nanny warnings: basically smut with some plot (LOL), bad french(please correct me), not proofread, 18+!!!! word count: 1,795 author's note: i really enjoyed doing the instagram au the other day so i wanted to include some of that into part 2!!! face claim is Hailey Bieber (you can picture nanny!reader however you want I just love Hailey so I'm sorry if you don't LOL). Also not kidding like single dad Charles got me in a HEADLOCK. also this is my Christmas gift to y’all 🤍 feel free to message me your thoughts!!! I love feedback and hearing from you all

part 2 to THIS (nanny series)

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yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbsf, lorenzotl, and 56,318 others yourusername a day well spent view all 2,376 comments leclerc_pascale tu es tellement adorable! bring her over now! yourusername on our way! user omg pascale commenting user I'm crying user i wish i could have her life charles_leclerc ❤️ user omg a heart?!!!??? user chill its prob for his daughter user a bit unprofessional if they date anyways yourbsf can't wait to see you tmrw! liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by yourexbf, yourbsf, charles_leclerc, and 62,122 others yourusername got milk? view all 3,765 comments user i'm fucking screaming user she is so fucking hot. idk how charles handles it user she's not that pretty relax user does she ever even work? how is she able to be doing this user her life is a vacation yourbsf I'm DROOOOLING yourexbf 🥛🍼🐮 user isn't this her ex boyfriend? user are they back together? user did you see her friends stories? they looked cozy 👀 user i hope so. that means she wouldn't be with Charles user she is the nanny of his daughter! leave her alone!! charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, lorenzotl, and 1,465,718 others charles_leclerc a tough few races but we gave it all we got. excited to be back home to see my girls! @vistajet view all 4,186 comments user girlS?!?? plural!!!!!! leclerc_pascale time for a haircut user LMAO user wtf girls? does he mean @/yourusername?? yourusername she's requesting you to play the piano asap!! liked by charles_leclerc and 5,392 others charles_leclerc looks like i'll have to teach you for when I'm away user OMGGGG user not him wanting to teach her piano!!!

yourbsf posted a story!

seen by arthur_leclerc, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 12,471 others tagged yourusername, yourexbf

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourexbf, landonorris, and 66,817 others yourusername about last night..... view all 1,329 comments landonorris date me please? charles_leclerc get out of her comments user LANDO SIMPING PUBLICLY user she def has most of the grid in a chokehold user CHARLES LMAO user but where is charles daughter? yourexbf such a fun night liked by charles_leclerc user they gotta be fucking or something user charles liking this. hELPPP leclerc_pascale a night deserved!

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THE ENSUING WEEKS unfolded in a hazy cascade, a whirlwind of experiences that blurred the boundaries of time. The dynamics with Charles remained poised, neither veering into awkwardness nor undergoing discernible alterations – an equilibrium that suited you perfectly. After all, you hadn’t harbored expectations of a budding relationship; rather, this interlude seemed more akin to an itch that required gentle satisfaction.

Well, it wasn’t altered, aside from the handful of orgasms he gave you before his departure for races. It felt as though the barrier between you both had fissured and ruptured beyond control, an unstoppable force. But you told yourself to keep it casual.

With Charles traveling the past few weeks for a triple header, the atmosphere between the two of you has gracefully sidestepped any foray into weighty matters. Interactions have been modest, primarily of facetimes with his daughter, and lighthearted banter via text messages. Aside from the one late night desperate and needy facetime call you had last week.

Yesterday marked a noteworthy occasion as, for the initial time in the span of weeks, you relished an entire day and evening in the company of all your friends. Pascale, in all her wisdom, insisted you merited a respite from the role of caregiver and assured that she will handle the little one for you.

A day immersed in sun and sea with close friends proved to be a much-needed respite from the past few weeks. This was complemented by an evening at the club, where pulsating beats, lively dance floors, and contagious laughter wove together, leaving behind a lasting sense of euphoria.

So, when you arrive to Charles’ apartment ready for a fun and relaxing day with him and his daughter for the first time since he left, you’re surprised to find Charles swinging the door open before you could even reach for the handle. You’re also surprised to find out that his daughter isn’t even here, and that she is still at Pascale’s.

“Où étais-tu?” Where have you been? His question was quick and short as he pulled you into the apartment, shutting the door behind you. You barely made two steps before his hand was gripping your hand, pulling you down the hall to his bedroom.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? You were confused but didn’t refuse his touch as he pushed you to sit on the edge of his bed. “Content de te voir aussi.” Nice to see you too. Recognizing a hint of sarcasm in your tone, you conclude that adopting a bratty attitude probably wasn’t the wisest choice, especially given his apparent sour mood.

He began restlessly pacing within the room, the muscles of his arms visible as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest in a display of frustration.

“Où est ma fille?” Where is my daughter? He was fully aware of his provocative tone. He possessed the knowledge of his daughter’s whereabouts, yet he seemed intent on provoking confrontation, eager to witness any response that might momentarily suppress the burgeoning jealousy within his chest.

You found his accusatory tone unsettling, especially given the fact that you would never put his daughter in harm’s way. “Pascale’s. You know this.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him as he stood directly in front of you, a sinister gleam in his eyes as he finally made eye contact with you.

“How s’est pasée ta soirée?” How was your night? He knelt between your legs, eyes meeting yours at the same level, jaw tightly clenched. His two hands rested on each leg, fingers pressing into the skin of your thighs.

It wasn’t until then that it clicked. His behavior, all because of your night out. He knew of your ex-boyfriend from social media, but you never fully had a talk regarding him. Because why would you? This was all still very new.

Navigating the relationship of you and your ex-boyfriend proved to be intricate, primarily owing to the longstanding history you shared since diapers. Originating as childhood best friends, a mutual decision was made to preserve the amicable bond even after the breakup. Given your shared history and overlapping friend group, the decision to maintain a friendship, sparing both parties the discomfort of awkwardness.

His hands slowly traced up the inside of your thighs, his fingers instantly contacting your lace covered center, thanks to the short, pleated skirt that adorned your body.

“Tu as passé un bon moment, hm?” Did you have a nice time? His tone was mocking. You felt yourself at a loss of words as his fingers slipped past your underwear, his thumb pressing circles directly to your clit.

You nodded slowly, delusional from how good his fingers felt on you. His other hand reached for the band of your underwear, pulling them off until they piled at your feet. His thumb, not easing up on your heated center. You let out a soft moan, leaning back on your two hands, as he pushed two fingers into you. His eyes, purely focused on watching his fingers slide in and out of you, wet and slick.

“Rien à dire?” Nothing to say? His fingers sped up, your stomach clenching as you arched your back in complete pleasure.

“I’m gon—fuck,” You couldn’t get complete words out. Every time you went to talk, his fingers assault on you would increase, leaving you nothing but a moaning mess on the edge of his bed.

He pulled his fingers completely out of you, letting you scream in frustration as he edged you.

“Did you fuck him?” His words cut sharply, and the green of his eyes almost appeared black with intensity. Despite the anger he conveyed, a discernible undercurrent of vulnerability permeated his questions. It made your heart clench.

“No,” you were quick to answer. “Je ne ferais pas ça!” I wouldn’t do that!

His eyebrows furrowed as he slid his fingers back into you with urgency. “You sure?”

“Yes!” His fingers were quickly back on you, the need that bubbled deep in your stomach ready to tip over.

It wasn’t until he shoved his head between your legs, his tongue replacing his thumb, and pressing it flat to your clit, that you were careening forward with a cry.

The assault of his tongue didn’t let up until you were pulling him by the hair on the back of his head, his mouth leaving your clit with a ‘pop’ noise. His lips were glistening as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them.

“Tellement bien,” So good. He moaned with his eyes shut as he sucked you off his fingers, your eyes purely focused on his mouth and the hollows of his cheeks.

Before you could even relax, he was scooping you up and flipping you over onto your stomach, and bunching your skirt high up on your waist. A harsh smack of your butt echoed off the walls of the bedroom.

“I should fuck the salope out of you,” his voice was deep with need as you heard the unzip of his jeans from behind you. His hands pressed your face into the mattress, nearly suffocating you, as he nudges his cock through your folds. But you didn’t care, the pleasure was too good.

He slid into you easily, your saturated walls slick from your previous orgasm. The burning stretch of his cock had you cry out a muffled yelp into the mattress. “Gonna take all of me, hm?”

You agree feverently, nodding your head repeatedly with a moan. “These weeks were too long huh?” He droned on, talking you through it. “Even our facetime the other night wasn’t enough?”

Thoughts of your facetime the other night surface back quickly as his hips pound into you. How you both were so needy. How he was able to make you come on your fingers just by the sound of his voice. How he commanded your body even from thousands of miles away. Yes, that’s it. Cum all over your fingers like the good girl you are.

He felt your walls clench down on him so tightly, he groaned. “The thought of fingering yourself gets you that hot and bothered?” Another harsh slap to your butt.

You begin to cry out almost pathetically, your fingers gripping onto the sheets tightly. You turn your head, Charles hands sliding from the back of your hair to your neck, still weighing you down.

“S’il te plait,” Please. You’re begging.

“Wish I could bring you – Mon dieu – wish I could bring you with me wherever I go,” his heavy breaths were heard in between each word, as if he was struggling to keep any self-control he had left.

“But I can’t,” his voice sounds angry again. “Wouldn’t be able to leave you, can’t look at you without wanting to fuck you stupid,” He won’t shut up. Like he opened a door and can’t close it shut now. “Tu me rends fou,” Drive me crazy.

Your heart is clenching at his words. His words creating a mass of butterflies in your stomach. You can tell by the shutter of his last words that he’s close.

“Allons-y, ma cherie,” Let’s go. “That’s it,” he groans loudly as you clench around him, releasing all over him. He’s quick to pull out, releasing himself all over your backside, smearing it with the tip of his cock into you.

He rolled over to the side of you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took. The silence of the apartment was loud but comfortable as you both caught your breath.

“I don’t think I can do casual with you but I’ll try,” he mutters softly, one of his hands brushing your hair out of your face so you can truly look at him. His cheeks were rosy, the crinkles in his eyes from smiling apparent, and his hair so disheveled it made you clench your thighs together.

You roll onto your side, your hand gracing his cheek as you turn his head to look at you. “Me either,” you admit. Because truly, he was all that was ever on your mind. You didn’t want to have one foot in the door, one foot out. You wanted to be all in with him.

“Let’s just see where this goes, yeah?” He smiles, pulling you up onto his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around as your head dug into the crook of his neck. You placed gentle kisses to his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing noticeably.

You feel his length harden from underneath you again. To which, you lift your head to see him with a smirk fully spread on his lips. You furrow your eyebrows as if to say ‘really?’.

To which he responds, “Je t’ai dit.” I told you. “Tu me rends fou.” You drive me crazy.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #don’t wake the kids cl16

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ponderingmoonlight · 11 days

Note

Reader who has never gotten drunk and doesn't want to touch alcohol due to personal issues x Nanami who drinks her shot for her to avoid awkward situations

Honestly this hits 100% home. I don't drink alcohol at all and always get insulted by some dumb people I don't even know that well when I'm out here in my hometown. I'd love to have a supportive Nanami by my side :(

In Quiet Understanding

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: At a lively work party, you're cornered by the pressure to drink - a personal boundary you’re not ready to cross. Just as the moment becomes unbearable, Nanami steps in, quietly taking the shot for you. In his calm, understated way, he shows that sometimes the loudest support is silent.

Warnings: Fluff fluff fluff, my man is the greenest flag on earth, you just gotta love him

The bar buzzes around you, a steady hum of conversation blending with the clink of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. Warm lights cast a dim glow over the crowd around, softening the edges of faces that surround you. It’s supposed to be a casual night out, just a few jujutsu sorcerers celebrating the end of a particularly long week, but the drink sitting in front of you feels like a barrier more than anything else.

A shot glass, small but potent, sits in front of you. The liquid inside glistens, clear and harmless to anyone else.

But to you, it feels like something heavier. You’ve never been one to drink, and not because you’ve never had the opportunity. It’s more complicated than that. There are reasons, personal ones that don’t make for easy explanations in a casual setting like this. But now, with everyone gathered around, laughing and sipping their drinks, it’s hard not to feel the unspoken pressure to participate.

You glance down at the shot again, the tension in your chest tightening. You’ve managed to avoid alcohol for this long, always coming up with an excuse or dodging the question when it came up. But tonight feels different. The way people keep sliding glances at your untouched glass makes you think someone will say something if you don’t take it soon. It’s just a matter of time before someone asks.

The last thing you want is to be the center of attention for that.

You steal a glimpse at the others sitting around the table, hoping to avoid any prying eyes. Most of them are too wrapped up in their own conversations to notice your discomfort, their attention focused on the drinks in their hands and the jokes being thrown around. A few have already gone through two or three rounds, faces flushed from the alcohol and laughter. Especially Gojo, who you thought isn’t even able to get drunk, starts to talk with a numb tongue. You shift in your seat, trying to blend into the background, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the glass but not lifting it.

That’s when you feel it: the presence beside you.

Nanami Kento sits quietly, just as he always does in these types of settings. He doesn’t participate in the loud chatter or the easy-going atmosphere as much as the others. His energy is different - steadier, more reserved. You’ve always appreciated that about him, the way he manages to be a grounding presence without saying much. It’s comforting, even if you’ve never told him so.

Nanami is not the type to drink heavily, either. He has a glass of whiskey in front of him, sipped slowly over the course of the evening. It’s as if he’s participating just enough to be polite, but not so much that he’s truly in the middle of the scene. You imagine that he already noticed your untouched shot glass, though he hasn’t said anything. He’s too observant not to notice details like that, right?

You’re trying to work up the courage to find a way out of this situation when, without warning, Nanami moves.

His hand reaches across the small table, fingers curling around the shot glass in front of you. You blink, taken off guard by the sudden action. He lifts the glass effortlessly, not making a show of it. But before you can say anything, he downs the shot in one smooth motion, setting the empty glass back on the table with a quiet clink.

You stare at him bamboozled, a mix of surprise and confusion flashing across your face.

“Nanami-san…”, you start when he cuts you off with a calm, measured response.

“You didn’t seem like you wanted it. I thought I’d save you the trouble” he explains briefly.

His words hang in the air between you, simple and humble. There’s something about the way he says it, so quiet, without judgment, that catches you off guard. He doesn’t ask why you weren’t drinking, doesn’t press for an explanation or make a joke out of it like others might have.

He just… helps. Without making it a big deal.

You feel the tension in your chest ease, the knot of anxiety loosening as you process what just happened. The relief is almost overwhelming, the weight of the situation lifting in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t even realize how badly you needed someone to step in, to save you from the awkwardness of having to explain yourself, until Nanami did exactly that.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice quieter than you intended.

Nanami simply nods, his expression unchanged.

“It’s nothing.”

But it isn’t nothing to you.

For a few moments, the noise of the bar fades into the background, the laughter and voices becoming a distant hum as you focus on the man beside you. Nanami returns to his usual posture, resting back in his seat with his glass of whiskey, his eyes drifting over the crowd. He doesn’t expect anything from you, doesn’t expect a conversation or even a thank you beyond what you’ve already offered. He’s just… there, in the quiet way he always is.

“And it’s Kento for you”, he adds after a long pause.

The group around you starts to settle down a bit as the night wears on. The initial excitement has given way to a more comfortable rhythm, the laughter still present but less harsh. People are leaning back in their chairs, enjoying their drinks at a slower pace now. The pressure to keep up, to drink shot after shot like the others has lessened, and you’re grateful for that.

Nanami saved you from having to participate in that part of the night, and now, with the glass out of your hands, you feel more at ease. You glance at him again, catching the way his expression remains calm, unreadable to most.

But you know better. You’ve worked with him long enough to notice the subtle shifts in his behaviour, the tiny flickers of thought behind his eyes that most people miss.

He’s always been like that: quiet, composed, but aware. Aware of the little things, the unspoken discomforts that others might ignore. It’s something you’ve come to respect deeply about him, even if you’ve never found the right moment to say it aloud.

As the night progresses, more rounds are ordered, but no one pressures you anymore. The group is too absorbed in their own drinks and stories, too comfortable in the haze of alcohol to notice that you haven’t touched another shot. You blend in easily now, sipping on a glass of water you quietly asked for earlier, content to just be part of the atmosphere without feeling the need to explain yourself.

“Are you feeling better now?”

The raising of his voice catches you off guard and leads to you almost choking on a sip of water. To be honest, you always admired that man from afar. So far away that you always made sure he doesn’t catch the way your eyes follow each and every move of his well-toned body. So far away that you never dare to say a single word to him, not even when he’s sitting right next to you. So far away that he isn’t able to tell that you have a huge crush on him.

“I do…Thanks to you.”

Instead of answering, he simply nods while taking another sip of his whiskey.

“You’re welcome.”

Eventually, the group begins to wind down. A few people are noticeably tipsy, their voices louder, their movements less coordinated. Others have begun to check their phones, signaling that the night is nearing its end. You find yourself feeling a sense of relief, knowing that you’ve made it through without any awkward confrontations or unwanted attention.

As the table starts to clear out, Nanami stands up, finishing the last sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down. He glances at you briefly, catching your eye.

“Ready to go?”

With him? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, palms already starting to get sweaty. Does he…really want to take you home?

When he gives you another look you finally nod, grateful for the out. The two of you say your goodbyes to the group, exchanging a little chit-chats as you leave the bar. The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, a welcome contrast to the stuffy warmth inside and your burning-hot cheeks. You take a deep breath, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders now that the evening is over even with your long-time crush by your side.

Nanami walks beside you in silence for a few moments, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. He’s not the type to fill the air with unnecessary conversation, and you appreciate that. The quiet between you is comfortable, familiar.

“About earlier…” you begin, breaking the silence.

“I just wanted to say thank you again. I didn’t-”

“You don’t need to explain,” Nanami interrupts, his voice gentle but firm.

“I didn’t do it expecting anything in return.”

You stop walking for a moment, turning to face him fully. There’s something in his expression, something softer than usual.

“I know. But it means a lot. I just… I don’t really drink. And I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Nanami meets your gaze, his eyes steady and understanding.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. Not about that, or anything else.”

The weight of his words sinks in, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. He’s not just talking about the shot glass anymore, and you know it. There’s a depth to his understanding that goes beyond the surface, beyond the simple act of taking a drink for you. It’s the kind of quiet, unspoken support that feels rare.

You offer him a small, genuine smile.

“Thank you, Nanami. Really.”

“It’s Kento, (y/n).”

The second his tongue pronounces your name so delicately, you can feel your heart almost burst in sheer excitement.

“Right…Kento.”

He nods once, and without another word, the two of you continue walking, the city lights casting long shadows as you move forward together.

In the end, it wasn’t about the drink. It was about the quiet understanding between the two of you, the kind of connection that doesn’t need words to be felt.

And as the night fades into memory, you can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the person beside you - steady, reliable Nanami, who always seems to know exactly what you need, even without asking.

Tags:

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@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr

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respectthepetty · 1 year

Text

In defense of a line crosser

In episode six of Hidden Agenda, Joke crossed several lines. Kot told him he was being too demanding, Wave told him he was being rude, and Zo told him he was being aggressive.

But in Joke's defense, Joke isn't merely crossing lines; he is trying to break through the barriers Zo continues to enclose himself in.

Because although Zo will toe the line, he never fully crosses it, so Joke has to get inside somehow, so he can be with Zo.

For example, when Zo is witnessing the couple walking in the rain, he clearly has his walls up with a hard barrier between him and love.

Yet when Joke shows up as Zo is trying to leave without him, Joke has to enter Zo's space in order to be inside with Zo. Even when Joke provides shelter and safety, Zo is reluctant.

Even with his friends, Zo never fully puts down his defenses.

Unlike Nita's situation where the barriers and boundaries are absolutely necessary,

Zo is constantly on the edge of his own barriers, only to back off without warning,

Which requires Joke to close the distance.

And most of the time, Zo, who cozies up to the line, makes little fuss when Joke crosses it.

Yet when Joke crosses the line between the two colored panels later in front of others,

Zo exits the space quickly leaving Joke to figure out why his behavior was acceptable before but not now.

And this is the core of Joke's line crossing - the lines keep moving according to Zo's feelings.

Zo even tells Joke something to this effect when he lectures Joke about his behavior, in front of others.

Because Zo tells Joke that he needs to respect boundaries, but it's difficult to do so when Zo isn't clear about those boundaries.

When Zo is upset, the barriers emerge

but the moment Joke concedes, they are in Zo's barriers together.

If Zo initiates an action, the camera doesn't stay still.

It pans between the two, so no definite barriers exist.

But the moment Joke asks Zo to stay and to clarify his feelings for Joke, the camera stops moving, and the barriers become clear.

So, once again, Joke has to be the one to cross them in order to get some sense of resolution from Zo before Zo exits the space.

And this is a huge problem.

Zo will kiss Joke, then avoid him. Zo will say he is fine, but run away in the middle of the night. Zo will tell Joke to be himself, but not in front of others. Zo will get close to the line, but won't commit to crossing it. Joke has to interpret everything Zo does.

Because history has proven that Zo's boundaries can be moved with a little nudge.

Joke didn't win enough games to achieve the prize of Zo opening his heart to him, yet in the end, Zo wore the "Game Over Lover" shirt to bed indicating Zo was trying on the idea of it.

So even though the boys are sticking to their respective color-coded drinks,

It seems like next week Joke will push his way past Zo's defenses once again

allowing Zo to finally cross a line or two.

Because if Zo keeps putting barriers between himself and the outside world, while Joke keeps crossing all the lines, someone is going to end up hurt.

#hidden agenda #barriers and boundaries #episode 6 #joke x zo #the 30 image limit is rude #there were so many barriers this episode!

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seoulzie · 3 months

Text

blurred boundaries

WHEREIN: huening kai needs help with his...! MDNI

pairing: inexperienced!hyuka x f! reader genre: suggestive, smut warnings: explicit sexual content, swearing, desperate kai-ish, handjob

SEUL SPEAKS! this was only supposed to be suggestive but i got carried away.. this is my first time ever writing straight-up smut

the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a single bedside lamp, casting a warm hue over the scattered books and papers. huening kai sat on the edge of the bed, his usually playful eyes filled with a mixture of anxiety and desire. you’d been friends for years, the kind of friendship that often teetered on the edge of something more, but had never quite crossed that line.

tonight felt different, though.

“kai, what’s up? you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you teased, trying to lighten the tension that had settled between you.

he looked down, avoiding your eyes. “can we talk? about something serious?”

you nodded, moving to sit beside him on the bed. the silence stretched out, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. “of course. what’s going on?”

he took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “i… i need your help with something. and it’s not something i can ask anyone else.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine. “anything, kai. you know that.”

he finally looked up, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. “i need you to help me… with this.” his eyes flicked downward, and you followed his gaze, understanding dawning on you.

“oh.” it was all you could manage to say, the implications of his request hitting you like a tidal wave. am i really going to do this? to a friend? the thought echoed in your mind, the internal conflict rising.

“i know it’s a lot to ask,” he said quickly, his face flushing with embarrassment. “but i trust you, and… i don’t know how else to deal with it.”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. this was uncharted territory, a step that could change everything between you. but the vulnerability in his eyes, the trust he was placing in you, was undeniable.

“okay,” you said softly, the word feeling heavy with the weight of your decision. “tell me what you need.”

his relief was palpable, and he reached out to take your hand, his touch warm and slightly trembling. “just… help me with this. please.”

you nodded, moving closer to him. your fingers brushed against his thigh, and you felt him shiver. the air between you seemed to crackle with tension as you leaned in, your lips hovering just inches from his.

“are you sure about this, kai?” you whispered, giving him one last chance to back out. your mind was still racing, questions and doubts swirling. this was huening kai, could you really cross this line?

“i’m sure,” he replied, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his eyes. “i need you.”

with that, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting in a tentative kiss. it was soft at first, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened as the desire between you ignited. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer as you shifted to straddle his lap.

you could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against you, and it sent a thrill through your body. breaking the kiss, you moved to press your lips against his neck, eliciting a low groan from him.

“kai,” you breathed against his skin, “tell me what you want.”

his hands tightened on your waist, guiding your hips to grind against him. “i want you. all of you.”

you nodded, understanding his need and your own desire to fulfill it. slowly, you began to undress, each piece of clothing falling to the floor, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. his eyes roamed over your body, filled with a hunger that matched your own.

as you reached for the waistband of his pants, he caught your hand, his eyes meeting yours with a silent question. you nodded, giving him the reassurance he needed, and together you removed the last barriers between you.

the feeling of his skin against yours was electric, and as you moved to take him in your hand, his breath hitched in anticipation. you began to stroke him, slow and deliberate, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed, the way his lips parted in pleasure.

his breaths came in short gasps, and you felt the tension coiling in his muscles. you quickened your pace, your hand gliding smoothly over his length, the soft, slick sounds filling the room. his moans grew louder, and you could see the struggle in his expression, the way he tried to hold back.

“kai,” you whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to his parted lips, “let go. i’ve got you.”

his response was a deep, guttural groan, his hips bucking against your hand as he finally surrendered to the pleasure. you felt his release, warm and wet against your palm, and you continued to stroke him through the aftershocks, milking every last drop of his climax.

when he finally stilled, you released him, your hand sticky with his essence. he looked up at you, eyes glazed with satisfaction, and pulled you into another kiss, this one slow and languid, filled with gratitude and lingering desire.

as you pulled away, you reached into the nightstand drawer, retrieving a condom. his eyes widened slightly as he watched you tear open the foil packet, his breathing quickening once more.

“are we really doing this?” you asked, your voice soft, giving him one final chance to change his mind.

he nodded, his eyes locked onto yours. “i’m sure. please.”

you rolled the condom onto him with practiced ease, the sensation making him groan with anticipation. positioning yourself over him, you slowly lowered yourself onto his length, the feeling of him filling you completely sending waves of pleasure through your body.

the rhythm you set was slow at first, each movement deliberate and controlled, savoring the sensation of being joined so intimately. but as the pleasure built, your movements quickened, driven by a shared need. his hands roamed your body, caressing and exploring, heightening the sensations.

the sounds of your shared pleasure filled the room, a symphony of gasps, moans, and the slick, rhythmic slap of skin against skin. you felt the tension building within you, the familiar coil of impending release tightening in your core.

“kai,” you murmured, “i’m close.”

“me too,” he replied, his voice strained with desire.

with a final thrust, you felt yourself tip over the edge, the waves of pleasure crashing over you. he followed moments later, his body tensing beneath you as he found his release.

for a few moments, you lay together, catching your breath, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. you rolled off him, lying side by side, your fingers intertwining.

“thank you,” he said softly, turning to look at you. “for everything.”

you smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “we’re in this together, kai. no matter what.”

and as you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that whatever lines had been blurred tonight, the bond between you was stronger than ever.

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vampiresfromxenon · 1 year

Text

I Wanted To

Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav

Almost 3.5k words

Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!!

CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)

Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.

It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy.

For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you.

It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love.

He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical.

You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations.

For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep.

Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.

Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.

He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads.

You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side.

You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.

“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you.

“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?”

His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space.

You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.

Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep.

Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know.

Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.

“I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice.

“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”

You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks.

“Admiring how beautiful I am?”

“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds.

He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-”

“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you.

You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him.

“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery.

“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel.

“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more.

“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy.

“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.

Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes.

Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again.

The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do.

You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.

“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words.

Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise.

Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you.

“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.

“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.

“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.

He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.

“Safe.”

He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips.

“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat.

“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing.

“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you.

When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.

“I love you.”

You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.

“Shit. Did you hear that?”

“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest.

“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.

“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe.

Author’s Note:

He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)

I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha

My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :)

Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭

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lizzieisright · 6 months

Note

I’m so not normal about how you write alpha!abby I need more😩

Palestine: what can you do

Thank you for your req, I've missed writing alpha!abby it was so fun!(although this one is sappy)

Fri(end)s

alpha!abby x omega!reader

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, hurt/comfort, "alphas and omegas can be friends!!" delusion, they really stretch the definition of friendship. No full smut but they get horny.

Inspired by "Friends" by V.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

People say there's no such thing as a friendship between an alpha and an omega. You disagree.

People just need to embrace the inherent lust that comes with being friends with your opposite and you can be great friends. Instead of fearing to make everything awkward when you both smell your attraction, you should acknowledge it and laugh about it. Be each other's ego boosters. It's not that hard.

For example, you and Abby - you've been friends for years. It did start with Abby hitting on you, but she backed off immediately when you explained that you're not interested. Anyway, Abby stayed and asked to be your friend, and you agreed - Abby was cool and smart. It later became a running joke between the two of you where Abby'd jokingly hit on you just to get on your nerves or make you smile.

That's pretty much how you overcame the awkward barrier: you started being honest with each other about everything. You formed a bond so intimate between the two of you that people often mistook you for a couple. You didn't mind. It wouldn't happen anyway, since Abby was a player.

You had no idea how many omegas Abby's fucked in her lifetime, but you rarely saw the same omega twice. Abby kinda had a reputation around campus. She was aware of it, but what could she do? It wasn’t her fault her dick was good. And listen, Abby wasn’t an asshole, no one could catch her disrespecting omegas or talking who and how and when she fucked. People just knew. Well, it was hard not to know when her partners reeked of her after, but the point stood - Abby was a lady, not a prick when it came to privacy.

She fucked omegas that no one would believe to even have such dirty thoughts/time to fuck around/ability to feel sexual attraction or whatever reason insecure incel alphas kept telling themselves - and Abby always stayed discrete if omegas asked her too. Because that was how you got pussy, you fucking morons, not by insulting and being entitled.

So Abby didn’t care that she had a reputation - she only cared if her partners felt safe and enjoyed themselves, and as long as it stayed this way, Abby was happy.

And you knew all of this, because you were her best friend. She told you all of it during one night when you were drinking wine and you asked her about how she felt about her reputation.

Then Abby asked about your deal, and you honestly told her that you didn't know: you loved the touch and flirting but you felt like you didn't have space for relationships. That you haven't met anyone yet who'd make you want to make an effort - of course Abby joked about her being the one and you laughed.

“Well, if I ever need help, I'll come to you.” You winked and Abby laughed as well.

It was easy between the two of you to what some would say, an alarming point where the boundaries of friendship became blurry.

It wasn't a rare occurrence when you'd be at a party, pleasantly drunk, and then after what felt like an hour of dancing, you'd find Abby, sitting somewhere and sipping her whiskey, looking unapologetically hot in her muscle tee and jeans, and you'd get onto her lap, hugging her neck while she'd support your weight by grabbing your thigh. Her scent would get stronger and you'd smile into her shoulder, teasing her. Sometimes, of course, you'd find Abby with another omega already, her hands exploring and grabbing her partner, and you'd grin and go do something else. You always expect yourself to be upset, but strangely, you never are - Abby is your friend and you're happy she is getting some.

Tonight is a little different. You're sleepy and horny and overall, want to feel someone's warmth and touch. So you find Abby and straddle her. She doesn't even lift a brow, just holds you by your waist and keeps you safe. Abby smells your arousal and chuckles, but you stick your tongue out.

“I fucking hate being an omega.” You say and start playing with Abby's hair while she is caressing your back. It's soft and cosy despite you being all horny. It's not flirty, it's not subtle: you two just love being close, and Abby radiates her presence, making everyone look away in fear of challenging her. Abby locks her arms behind your back and you arch into her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna fuck so bad.”

Abby laughs and looks at you with her red eyes: she can't control it when she is drunk and has you on her lap. Abby smells your scent and smirks, her canines growing longer, her presence getting stronger, scaring other alphas away.

“Well, you know I'm always available for you.” You smack her on her shoulder and Abby laughs.

“Don't fucking tease me, bitch.”

“We can make out if it'd make you feel better.” Abby shrugs. You think for a second.

“Yeah. Let's make out. I bet you're a good kisser.”

“Five stars reviews, baby.”

You laugh, but Abby is already cupping your cheek and guiding you down to her level so she can kiss you. You go pliant when her warm lips touch yours: Abby is a good kisser. She is slow and gentle, but you feel the power and control behind her movements. She is holding you with one arm on your waist while she is grabbing your neck with the other one, her thumb stroking your jaw.

It doesn't feel like you two are toeing on some kind of line you're not allowed to cross: it feels natural and normal, like you've done it a million times before. Maybe you feel this way because Abby is confident and knows what she is doing, but she also doesn't push you further. You're just lazily making out, her warm tongue is on top of yours, exploring your mouth. It feels good.

You feel Abby getting harder under you and you grind against her crotch just to be a little shit, and she stops kissing you.

“And I'm a tease?”

“I love seeing you suffer.” You grin and Abby kisses you again, holding your hips down so you won't be able to grind anymore.

It's affirming, it's an ego boost: you love seeing Abby, hot and amazing alpha, being so weak around you. Abby loves knowing she is the only one who you allow to touch you - loves smelling how horny she can get you. So you keep making out and talking for the rest of the night, existing in your own little bubble. It’s beautiful.

After, Abby takes you home and you cuddle in her bed before you fall asleep, Abby's strong arm pulling you close, her hair making a cloud of her scent around you, keeping you safe and protected.

In the morning you wake up with her hard cock pressing into your thigh and you sigh - you want to sleep more, not being humped by a sleeping alpha. Abby shifts and grinds against you in her sleep, and your cunt throbs: you've never been so close to an alpha who is aroused. New experience, but this is Abby, and you want to fucking sleep.

You just shake her shoulder and she grunts, unhappy.

“Come on, Anderson, you have a morning wood.” You tell her, still sleepy. Abby shifts and turns on her back, taking you with her so your head is on her chest and if you could've been bothered and opened your eyes, you'd have seen the outline of her cock under the covers.

But you go back to sleep.

So this is how your friendship is: you're so close there's almost no boundaries between you. You're not afraid to smell horny around Abby and you feel good about yourself when you smell her being horny about you. You're never upset about her hookups and she doesn't growl at every alpha who looks your way. It's perfect.

The smell of love comes early into your friendship, and you both tease each other about it, “can't believe you love me it's so embarrassing”. Abby is your closest friend and you love her, and you two are proof of an alpha and an omega capable of being friends.

You're comfortable with each other to the point where you complain about your cycles and how fucking horny and unsatisfied you both are during this time: usually it's you who complains because Abby fucks through her ruts. You always tease her about smelling like her lucky omega, but Abby just smirks, still rut high. She looks deliciously dangerous after her rut and the smell of attraction grows stronger between the two of you. Usually Abby’d invite you for a bottle of wine after her rut ends and your drunk makeouts would get more passionate too, since Abby wouldn't hesitate to grab and knead your ass, making you grind on her cock. This is the only time when you let awkwardness fill the room: Abby doesn't control herself and you have to stop her before it goes too far.

(This is the only time when your heart flutters and your hopes rise. This is the only time that threatens to ruin your perfect friendship.

You know if you sleep with Abby, you'll never be friends again. You'll get territorial about her, and Abby doesn't need it - it's a question of incompatibility between the two of you.

So you stop her.)

But the universe doesn't like anything that is perfect - it's against her nature. The balance is in imbalance, and it tries to restore itself.

For the last few months your heats have been getting worse - you’re stressed, you can’t sleep and you feel like shit. Your mood swings start to get worse as well - if before you’d just get a little sad and then fall down into the horny fog of a heat, now your mood stays longer in the sad space. It’s tiring.

And this heat hits you very hard. You're not horny, you're in pain and sad and it's hard to maintain your mind. You wish you were just horny - you could just bury your nose in Abby's hoodie that she always lends you before your heat and you'd keep fucking yourself until the heat wave would pass.

You do bury your nose in Abby's hoodie, but it makes you cry even more. You feel so alone and so useless, like no one truly needs you and you'll never find your happiness, like you're bound to die alone. It's terrifying and makes you sob, and you can't be bothered to be horny because what's the point of it if you will be alone all your life?

Abby:

u ok?

You scramble to your phone and cry harder: Abby cares. Abby knows about your last struggles with your heats and she checks on you. You're not alone.

So you call her.

“Doll, I'm not doing phone sex-” Abby says jokingly, but then she hears you sob loudly. “What happened?” Abby's voice shakes. “Where are you? Fuck, talk to me-”

You take a big breath before Abby'd worry herself into an early grave.

“I'm fine. I'm home.” You sniff. “I just- It's so bad, Abby.”

“Are you hurt?” Abby is still worried.

“No. It's a mood swing.” You cry again, feeling so broken. “I feel so fucking alone. And you texted me and I- sorry, fuck.” You wipe your tears and hug her hoodie, pressing the phone closer to your ear. You feel ridiculous - you know it’s your hormones talking.

“Hey, I'm here.” Abby says, trying to soothe you, but you cry harder.

“What if I end up alone? What if I never meet my person? I spend all those fucking heats alone and it's so hard, and I can't think of doing it for the rest of my life all by myself.” You fall into another fit of sobs. Abby is silent for a moment.

“I'm coming over.” Abby says, dead serious, and you suddenly sober up.

“I'm in heat, Abby, you can't come over!” You sit on your bed, worried.

“I don't fucking care! You're hurting and you're alone, I can't let this happen.” You hear Abby rustle around. “Can you do something for me while I'm on my way?”

“I can try.” You say without any hope.

“Go drink some water and take a shower. And send me some pics so I know you did it, okay?”

“I'm so not sending nudes, Abby.” You chuckle without any bite. Abby huffs.

“Go drink your water.” Abby ends the call and you stare at your phone for a second.

You try to keep yourself together - you send Abby pictures of an empty glass and a hem of a towel when you're done, but it takes five minutes before your mood swings again. You shake and try to breathe through another spiral into hell, but it's so fucking hard. You get to the point where you start rocking back and forth like an anxious child, trying to self-soothe. You feel like you're in some kind of trance until you hear your doorbell.

You fly to the door before your dam would break: you open the door to Abby who's panting loudly - she probably ran up the stairs.

It takes a second for both of you to comprehend the situation before Abby throws everything on the floor and scoops you in her arms, and you break, sobbing into her chest and clinging to her shoulders. Abby's scent soothes you, protectiveness radiating from her while she holds you tight and kisses your head.

“I'm here.” She murmurs and you cling to her harder. “I'm not going anywhere. I'll keep you safe.”

It takes five minutes of breathing Abby's scent for your hormones to calm down. You sniff before moving away, but Abby doesn't let you, still holding you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” You say honestly and Abby lets you go.

Her eyes are red and she tries not to breathe too much, and you feel ashamed - she got here to comfort you but you stink of heat. Of course Abby reacts to it, she can’t help it, and now she will be stuck between taking care of you and taking care of you. It’s unfair to her.

“I will take scent blockers.” You turn to go to the kitchen, but Abby stops you, gently holding your bicep.

“No. It's not the heat. It's the hurt.” You wince: you know it's hard for alphas to smell hurt on omegas. “And I have pretty good self-control.”

You chuckle and let Abby take her shoes off. She is in joggers and her favourite hoodie, looking cosy and comfortable. You want to cuddle her, and this is exactly what Abby does. She makes you drink another glass of water, feeds you a banana and takes you to your bed.

Abby stops when she sees her hoodie on your bed like she didn't expect you to actually use it. (Like she totally doesn't use your hoodie when she is too sad to find a rut buddy). But Abby doesn't say anything and just tugs you to the bed, enveloping you in her arms and her scent. It's warm and beautiful and you bury your nose in her skin.

You don't talk. Abby caresses you and kisses you head from time to time while you get upset again.

“I fucking hate being an omega.” You sniff. Abby presses you closer, her scent gets stronger, reacting to your distress. “There's something wrong with me, I swear.”

“You're perfect.” Abby murmurs and you blink your tears away.

“It's so hard, Abby. It's unbearable. With every heat I get more worn out and upset.” You cry quietly. “I will go on suppressants, I don't want to suffer like this anymore.”

Abby swallows. Suppressants are no joke, they ruin people’s health - that’s why they’re taken in emergencies. For everything else there’s scent blockers that don’t disturb cycles and don’t put people in danger.

“We will figure it out. We will get you back into normal horny heats and you’ll complain about it to me, I promise.”

It soothes you and you fall asleep, your scent slowly changing to your usual love scent, the one that Abby loves the most.

Abby knows that sometimes omegas go through their cycle with a lot more pain than normal, but seeing you, the fucking light of her life, suffer like this is torture. She’d honestly prefer to hold herself back from fucking you because you’re in heat, and not wipe your tears while you tell her how scared you’re of ending up alone.

Abby watches your calm face and caresses your cheek. If you only knew.

“I’ll always be here.” Abby murmurs, knowing you won’t hear her. “I’m yours.” She kisses your forehead.

When Abby moves away she is met with your wide eyes.

Her heart stops. You’re silent, lost for words, but something starts happening: your scent gets stronger and Abby can see golden sparks as your eyes start to change colour.

“Fuck.” You sigh. Your chest gets tighter and your cunt starts pulsing with need. “Ab-”

Abby kisses you roughly, pressing your head into the pillow and she shoves her tongue into your mouth, her hands gripping your waist, and now you’re lost in her scent and touch, arching and whimpering into her mouth. It feels amazing, you’re soaking your pants while you cling to Abby and relax under her, submitting to your alpha. You’ve never felt so good during your heat and you want more. You buck your hips into Abby and she grinds her cock on your pussy, making you shudder and moan. The kiss gets messier, there’s a lot of spit on your chins, but you don’t care - you want Abby closer, you want her in you, stretching you on her cock, knotting you.

“Abby-” You moan into her mouth and Abby growls. “Fuck me, please.”

Abby growls louder and licks your neck, her canines brushing against your skin and you whine, desperate. But then Abby stops kissing you neck, stops moving and her grip on you eases.

“Fuck.” Abby sighs into your neck. She smells how worked up and desperate you are, and she has to fight herself to not fuck you right now. “You’ll regret it. I’m not going to hurt you like this.” Abby rasps and your heart breaks.

You feel rejected and the smell of hurt fills Abby’s nose. She looks at you and her heart breaks from seeing you cry, knowing she did this. You can’t just reject an omega during their heat - it messes them up and then they won’t be able to keep you in their lives after, too hurt and ashamed.

“I want to, doll.” Abby tries to console you. “I really fucking want to, but I need you to be sober before we do anything. Look at me.” You obey and Abby kisses your tears. “I promise you, if you agree to this when this wave subsides, I’ll do whatever you need me to. For now we can keep kissing.”

It makes you feel better and you nod, tugging Abby down to kiss her again. You still are very horny and Abby has to pin your hips so you won’t grind against her, but you want to cum and you keep squirming under her while Abby tries to slow down the pace of your kiss. She is so gentle and careful, and eventually you melt and relax, the heat wave going away. It takes a solid twenty minutes of kissing and Abby holding you down before your head gets clearer. You break the kiss and sigh, relieved you’ve finally got a break. Abby looks like she has everything under control and she totally didn’t have to fight you and herself so you wouldn’t make a mistake. Her scent though tells you how much she has to restrain herself - it’s thick and heavy, aggressive, domineering. Abby didn’t lie when she said she wants to fuck you as much you want her to fuck you, and it makes you hormone-crazy heart feel better.

“You weren’t lying when you said you have amazing self-control.” You murmur and brush Abby’s hair out of her face. Abby chuckles.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I’m not all sex crazy right now, if this is what you are asking.” You keep caressing Abby’s hair. She blinks a few times, but the red doesn’t leave her eyes. “Thank you for handling this so well.”

Abby smiles and kisses your cheek. The question hangs in the air.

“I’m-” You take a deep breath full of Abby’s pheromones and it messes with your head, but you try to find the right words. You don’t want Abby to feel rejected too. “I’m not ready to spend my heat with a partner.” I won’t be able to let you go if we do this.

Abby does smell of regret, but she smiles at you.

“Of course. But call me if you get upset again. I don’t want you to be alone.”

You nod and walk Abby out, kissing her goodbye. You lock the door after her and sigh, knowing what is ahead.

You spend three days fucking yourself to a memory of Abby saying I’m yours.

Only after you’ve recovered and got back to yourself you’re hit with a realisation that Abby actually told you she is yours. You try to find a way to justify her words, to connect it with your friendship and how close you two are, but even your levels of almost no boundaries can’t create a good excuse.

You were not meant to hear her. She thought you were asleep. It was her secret.

So Abby didn’t say it to make you feel better or trick you heat-brain into calming down - her scent and touch already did it. There was no reason for her to say it unless she fucking meant it. You don’t know what to do. You never thought Abby’d be interested in something like an actual relationship with you.

Your perfect friendship was built on two opposing facts: Abby is a player, and you’re fine being alone until you meet your person. And now you’re not fine being alone because deep down you know she is your person, and Abby said she is yours without wanting you to know.

You feel like you’re going crazy. You’re terrified of any awkwardness that will inevitably come with this whole ordeal. You know you won’t be able to hide your uncomfortable, shaking discovery from Abby - she is your best friend after all, she will know something is up with you.

You manage to act normal for a week without Abby getting suspicious - you two are still flirty, but now when Abby touches you, you feel like she sets you on fire with how your cheeks burn. Now there’s a hidden meaning behind her touch - the one you were not supposed to know.

The song on the radio makes you break.

Abby is driving you two to the Korean restaurant she found and wanted to show you, and you two sit in comfortable silence - Abby is focused on the road and you stare out of the window, taking the view of this part of the city, when this song comes on the radio.

You're in my head / I had plans for the weekend / But wound up with you instead / Back here again / Got me deep in my feelings / When I should be in your bed

Your cheeks burn. It is a weekend and Abby spends time with you, taking you, her best friend, to the restaurant. Does she want to be in your bed?

You and I go back to like '09, it's like forever / And you were there my lonely nights, yeah / Keeping me together / So wouldn't it make sense if I was yours? / And you could call me your baby / But we say we're just, say we're just-

You breath hitches. This song is stripping you of any kind of pretence. Your smell changes and Abby looks at you for a second.

Friends, just for now / Yeah, but friends don't say words that / Make friends feel like more than just / Friends, just for now / Now, I'm over pretending / So let's put the "end" in friends

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just remembered something.” Abby hums and doesn’t ask you further.

Friends are not supposed to get too close / And feel emotions that / We're feeling now, now, now / We ain't slowing down, down, down / But once we cross the line / There's no denying you and / I can never turn around, 'round, 'round / Know we'll never be the same

You take a shaking breath when you think back to your heat, begging Abby to fuck you. Yes, you will never be the same. But you have a choice to make.

“This song is about us.” You chuckle nervously.

“Really? Sorry, I didn’t pay attention.” Abby laughs, but starts to pay attention now, while you wait for the traffic light to turn green.

Friends, just for now / Yeah, but friends don't say words that / Make friends feel like more than just / Friends, just for now / Now, I'm over pretending / So let's put the "end" in friends

Abby clears her throat. She doesn’t joke or flirt - she understands.

“Yeah. It is about us.”

Abby doesn’t say anything more, but her scent gets a little spicy - she is nervous as well. You also don’t say anything - she is driving, after all. Not the time for this conversation. It’s the first time in your friendship when there’s so much thick, nervous tension between you.

Abby parks the car and you just sit for a moment, feeling like you need to talk about it right now. Abby clears her throat again.

“So do you want to put the "end" in friends?” Abby asks quietly, not knowing why did you bring it up - do you want to stop being friends or do you want to be something more?

You chuckle, endeared by Abby’s nervousness - she is always confident and calm, you’ve never seen her like this.

“You told me you’re mine.” You start, fidgeting with your fingers. You’re scared to cross this line and change everything, but you want to. “It made me happy. And very fucking confused, because- You know what I mean.” You cringe - you’re not going to include Abby’s sex life in your confession. “Were you serious about it?”

Abby lost any filter right after she heard “it made me happy”, so she just bursts, spilling all her feelings for you.

“I’m in love with you. I wanna marry you and have a fucking picket fence and a dog and two and a half children with you.” Abby says while her scent becomes ten times stronger with love. “You’re the one for me.”

You blink your happy tears away and look at Abby’s face, full of love and devotion.

“Maybe we should start with a date?”

Abby smiles and takes your face into her hands, kissing you with so much love you can swim in it.

“A date sounds good.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #alpha!abby #player!abby who is whipped for the reader? my favourite fucking trope

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lucifermonsii · 9 months

Text

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Top Male Reader

cw: bottom!ghost, smut, fingering.

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

It's been a few months after Y/N and Ghost broke up. Ghost has always been a difficult person, being cold and blunt towards his significant other. Having a thick barrier between them, the boundaries in the relationship was a lot. No bed sharing, No holding hands, No this no that.. But when they had sex it was different, Ghost loved the way Y/N pounded on him. Bullying his prostate over and over again with his large member inside of him, the way his gummy walls clutched onto the man's cock was a pleasure both Ghost and Y/N loved to experience. Y/N bringing Ghost heaven and back as he roughly thrusted into him in and out over and over again, the way Ghost's eyes were rolled back. Drool dripping out of the corner of the lieutenant's mouth down to his chin, his thighs trembling from pleasure.

But it was all over, due to Ghost's attitude towards the male they decided to part and broke up. Ghost had always been afraid of being in a gay relationship within the military work field, who would think that their cold and stern lieutenant would be gay? And a bottom!?

Ghost came into the common area after he finished his workout, doing his usual routine before Y/N and Soap came in and sat together. Having breakfast and talking, the sergeant making terrible dad jokes as Y/N simply smiles while eating his food. Sometimes slight giggling because he dosent want to choke on his food. Overall they were having a great time, But Ghost? He was watching everything. The way Soap would occasionally brush his finger's against Y/N's thighs for shits and giggles, of course the male really didint care much since Soap was his best buddy. Ghost on the other hand was staring at the whole interaction, gaze filled with jealousy and rage. But not enough for him to react. yet.

That was until Soap gripped onto Y/N thigh, thats when Ghost had enough. The lieutenant marched towards them before gripping onto Y/N's shoulder and dragged him away forcefully. "What the fuck?," Said Y/N as he stared at Ghost in disbelief and confusion, eventually being forced into a small confined room with the lieutenant. Door locked.

Y/N stared at him with his e/c eyes, confused. "Why did you have to drag me." Y/N said along with a raised eyebrow as he stared down at Ghost with his e/c eyes, Ghost in returned just stared up at the taller male. "Im sorry, for everything, for how i've been acting towards you when we were together." Said Ghost, for the first time he was being genuine which surprised the other male a bit.

A sigh escaped Y/N lips as his eyes darted back from Ghost to the door, "Sure, but that dosent explain to why you've dragged me here," said Y/N as he stares at Ghost with his head cocked to the side, arms crossed over his chest. "I need you." Ghost said as he stares up at him, eyes filled with need and lust as he uncomfortably shifted his thighs to hide his apparent bulge. Ghost managed to get a grin out of the male as he stared up at Y/N, "So this is your way of forgiving?" Y/N said, amused as he leaned towards Ghost, His breath hot against the lieutenant's.

With that being said Ghost lifted his balaclava till the bridge of his nose and pushed his lips against Y/N's. The other male returning back the kiss as his hands crept onto his waist, now firmly pressing Ghost to the wall. The kiss deepens as their tongues intwined, Y/N's hands caressing Ghost's side up and down. Eventually the kiss broke and the two breathed again, the thumb of Y/N's now beneath Ghost's shirt and slowly sliding it up. Ghost lets out a sigh as he leaned the back of his head against the wall, letting the other male take his shirt off — which he did willingly. He kissed Ghost again, his hand now against the shorter male's chest as his other hand was gripped onto his waist. Firm but not enough to leave a bruise.

The kiss broke before they got to the point. Y/N stripped the man and turned him around before shoving him against the wall, Y/N jerked him own, collecting pre-cum at his tip before using it as lube and teasing it at the rim of Ghost's entrance with his index finger. A whimper escaped Ghost's lips as he felt the sensation, the taller male's index finger now inside of Ghost. Finger fucking him slowly to stretch him before adding another finger and continuing to finger fuck him, his fingertips brushing against Ghost's prostate which caused the lieutenant to moan. Y/N continued to thrust his fingers in and out of him, small soft whimper and moans escaped Ghost's lips as Y/N's fingers shoved against his gummy walls.

Finally his fingers are retracted, leaving Ghost's hole wet and all prepped. Y/N inched himself into Ghost slowly with his large member, the tip of his cock now inside of Ghost made a grunt escaped the taller male's lips as Ghost's walls clenched around his tip. Eager he was he attempted to clench down on Y/N's cock, wanting to take him fully in — which Y/N complied to, shoving his large member into Ghost. His gummy walls tight and wet around the man's shaft, a grunt escaped his lips from how tight he was. He had to fight the urge to shove his cock all the way in, but refused to as he continued to inch himself further into Ghost.

After managing to shove his whole cock in, Ghost clenches around his member and moaned at the feeling. Y/N began to thrust into him, slowly before he picks up the pace. Ghost's hips in sync with his as the pace quickens, whimpers and moans escaped Ghost's lips as he grips onto Y/N's forearms. The man's grip on his hips now tightening as he thrusts harder and deeper into Ghost, wet slaps of skin against skin filled the room as he continued to thrust in and out of him which cause Ghost to be even more vocal. He covered his own mouth with the palm of his hand as he continued to whimper and moan, his lips quivered as drool began to pool out of the corner of his mouth. Eyes rolled back and face flushed from Y/N thrust so hard into him as his prostate was continuously bullied by him.

His breathing was hot and heavy from being pounded, Y/N's thrusts began to be sloppy as he was close to his climax. His pace quickens as the sound of wet slapping of skin against skin fastens, Ghost's aching cock now dripped with pre-cum from not getting attention. Ghost grabbed onto his shaft as he began to jerk himself off whilst the man behind him continued to thrust into him, sticky strings of white stains the wall from Ghost as Y/N reached his climax and came into him. Ghost felt full, the feeling of his warm seed inside of him was a lot to take in. To the point where there was a trail of his cum trailing down from his hole till his thigh, slowly dripping down. They both get a breather before Y/N pulled out his member, a wet 'plop' sound was made when he fully pulled himself out. He gripped onto Ghost's ass cheeks and stretched it apart, looking at the wet entrance of Ghost, how his cum leaks out and puffy it was from being ruined.

#call of duty modern warfare ii #ghost mw2 #x male reader #ghost simon riley #male reader #top male reader #cod mw x reader #dom male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader

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worukin · 2 years

Text

╭୨୧︰ prince yandere x servant reader

・✦⇢ working as a butler was something you did willingly. after all, serving the royal family earned you lots of coin. and you were such a loyal servant that the prince couldn't help but want to snatch you up for himself.

︰꒰1・ ( warnings ) — slight possessive behaviour, yandere themes, clinginess, pet names, lots of affection, showing y/n off like a trophy.

︰꒰2・ ( notes ) — originally intended to make the yandere a vampire but i wasn't too sure. maybe in the near future? ahh idk. but i do have things planned. anyway, a little something for being absent as i work on bigger drafts! ( word count: insert wc )

( if you are uncomfy with this type of content, kindly block me instead. this was very fun to write hope you enjoy <3 )

After a long time of working in such a place, you found your way through the maze of hallways covered with odd decor.

Sometimes there would be paintings of people who were nude and it did fluster you quite a bit. Or a statue of an unknown person, maybe even some vases filled with flowers. All to tend to the taste of the Royal family.

Now, you've been here for such a long time now and grown used to The Prince's silly antics. Always asking you to do your chores around his wing. Not that you minded.

"Oh come on Y/n~ Don't you want to rest a bit?" He cooed, laying on his stomach as he watched you with glee. "I apologize your Highness, but doing so would be overstepping boundaries."

He huffed as you continued to dust his room. Wiping the windows, adjusting the curtains, moving the carpet. Oh how cute you were in his eyes. "I wouldn't mind, you are my favourite little servant after all "

Eyes shined with glee when you turned away to hide the fact you were flustered. Such high praise coming from the prince made you giddy. "Please your Highness, picking favourites isn't fair." You sighed.

"Oh darling but you love it!" He exclaimed, a pout forming on his lips. The prince always did enjoy spoiling you with his riches. You hummed— though it was true you reveled at the fact you were his favourite, you weren't happy with it giving you a bigger advantage than the others.

You stepped back from the vase of flowers, cleaning up the roots you cut off. "I'm glad you think highly of me, but this is quite unprofessional." The last thing you would want is being banished by Her Majesty for being with the Prince as a servant and not a noble.

"Is my affections for you not enough? Perhaps I need to be more open." The prince gave a close-eyed smile at the thought of bragging how he had such a catch, a loyal passionate servant like you doesn't come around often.

Your brow lifted. "Open? More open how?" A confused expression formed when all you got in response was a giggle. "My apologies your Highness, I didn't mean to speak so informally."

The prince scoffed. "Oh please, you are my favourite. If anything I'm glad you're relaxed around me to speak like that." Heart swelling just thinking about being informal with you— maybe he could just take you away for himself.

"Awe, wouldn't you enjoy being alone? Just the two of us and away from such a stuffy manor?" He dreamed of waking everyday beside you, instead of waking to the sound of another servant's knocking. You didn't answer.

The loud ring of a bell startled you, reminding you of your duties. "Oh! My apologies your Highness, but I must go now." Hurrying out of his room you uttered another sentence. "Thank you for having such fondness towards me."

He giggled, waving a hand around. "No worries my dear, see you at dinner~" the prince sighed as you left, hearts in the air and in his eyes. "Oh my love, you don't understand at all do you? No matter, I'll lay it to you soon enough."

Various thoughts of hooking his arm around your waist as you attended a ball— everyone in awe at such a pair. Untouchable you both would be, a barrier between you two and everyone else.

He'd leave feverish kisses on your skin to tease and to relish in such jealous stares. That's right, you're his.

ʚ ﹒ ﹕ ̟乀 all works belong to @worukin, do not repost on anywhere else with or without credit, do not plagiarise. ty!

#male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #gn reader #male yandere #male yandere oc #male yandere x gn reader #male yandere x male reader #x gn! reader #x gn!reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x reader #x gn reader

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ghoulsbounty · 4 months

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Could I possibly ask for a second part to What Happens Tonight, where maybe he gets a little more vulnerable with the reader and we see some of those walls being broken down? (But not fully, I still LOVE the angst of him not wanting to give himself fully to someone and how the reader struggles with it)

What Happens Tonight pt 2

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Ex-Vaultie!Reader (fem)

Summary: After the events during the radstorm, you confront the Ghoul about his true feelings.

Warnings: smut (18+), riding, a lot of grinding, fingering, the gloves stay ON, feeding Rad-X, mutual pining, emotionally stunted Cooper, slight soft!dom Cooper, miscommunication, angst.

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Thank you for all the love received on WHT part one, and thank you anon for specifically requesting a part two. I had a lot of fun with this one and delved more into the smut but still tried to make sure Cooper kept his boundaries. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

👉 Read part one HERE 👈

It had been several weeks since you sought refuge in the vault, a period marked by the moment you surrendered yourself entirely to Cooper. The memory of that night left a persistent ache between your thighs, serving as a constant reminder of the intimacy you shared and the emptiness you now felt. Despite this, Cooper had not addressed the matter with you since then. Whenever you attempted to discuss what had come to be known as "the night of the radstorm," he would abruptly turn away, his body rigid and his gaze averted. The tension between you grew with each passing day, the unspoken words creating a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge.

By the time you both composed yourselves the next morning, the sinister weather had come and gone. While the storm had left a physical mess outside, the emotional turmoil between you had created an even greater one. An awkwardness had settled over your relationship, forming an invisible barrier that hadn't existed before. You longed for this tension to vanish as the storm had, but it persisted, clinging to your interactions like a second skin. This discomfort coloured every conversation, every glance, leaving you both trapped in a web of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

You supposed this was the consequence of crossing that boundary, daring to entertain the notion that you and the Ghoul could be more than mere traveling companions. Your relationship had always been one of convenience, a mutual arrangement for survival. But that night had altered everything—at least for you.

Constantly, you replayed the moments in your mind: the intimacy you shared in that confined space, the way his hands moved over your body with a mix of urgency and reverence. You wondered if you had misread the signals, if the heat of the moment had clouded your judgment. The way he touched you, the way he held you—it all felt so real, so genuine. Yet now, it seemed like a fleeting dream, dissipating in the harsh light of reality. Each touch, each whisper of that night lingered in your thoughts, making you question the line between reality and illusion, and leaving you to ponder whether the connection you felt was ever truly mutual.

But weren't you the one who assured him it would mean nothing? And yet, here you were, longing for him every night as you lay on your bedroll, the void he left behind more palpable than his presence ever was. You couldn't help but feel the emptiness, the way his absence seemed to echo within you.

You found yourself watching him when he wasn't looking, searching for any sign that he felt the same way, that he missed you too. But he remained closed off, his walls higher than ever. Each glance in his direction was met with an unyielding façade, leaving you to wonder if he had already moved on or if he, too, was silently grappling with the same confusion and longing that plagued your thoughts.

You tried to focus on the tasks at hand, to distract yourself with the daily challenges of survival. Yet, every silence between you, every avoided glance, only deepened the chasm that had formed. The tension was a constant reminder of what had changed, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

You found yourself wishing for another storm, another night where you could both let down your guards and be vulnerable with each other again. But you knew better than to rely on such whims. Reality rarely afforded such convenient opportunities. You had to face the growing divide head-on, even if it meant confronting the possibility that the connection you craved might never be rekindled.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the wasteland, you found yourself alone with Cooper once more. The silence between you was heavy, almost suffocating, and you knew that you couldn't go on like this. You needed to address the elephant in the room, to find some way to mend the rift that had formed.

"Cooper," you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. "We need to talk about what happened that night."

He stiffened at your words, his eyes flickering briefly to yours before he looked away. "There's nothing to talk about," he replied, his tone clipped and guarded.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "You know that's not true," you countered, looking down at him from where you stood. The warm glow from the crackling fire highlighted his features as he leaned back against the wall from his position on his bedroll.

Cooper's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions, but he remained silent, staring into the flames as if searching for answers. You stepped closer, the soft crunch of your boots on the gritty floor the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

"That night," you continued, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest, "I said whatever happened wouldn't matter but... I was wrong. It meant something, and I need to know what it meant to you."

He sighed deeply, running a hand over his bald head before meeting your gaze. "You talk too much," he said in a biting tone, eyes downcast as he kicked his boot out in frustration.

"And you don't talk enough," you said defiantly, lightly kicking at his boot when he still refused to meet your gaze despite the scoff that escaped his lips. "You can't just ignore me, or pretend it didn't happen. If you regret it... well, I can handle it. I'm a big girl, Cooper."

"We'd be stupid not to regret it," he admitted, his hands occupied with reloading bullets into the bandolier on his lap. "Doesn't mean I didn't like it," he added quietly, almost to himself.

His words left you feeling conflicted. On one hand, you were relieved to hear that he had found pleasure with you, perhaps as much as you did with him. But the admission of regret lingered, casting a shadow over the memory. He wanted you to feel the same remorse, but you couldn't bring yourself to do so.

"I don't regret it," you declared, your voice firm. "I wanted you then, and I still want you now. Whatever it is that's holding you back, that's between you and your own conscience. But here I am, with you, and I want you."

His eyes snapped to you then, dark and swirling with emotion as he glared up at you. "Have you been taking those pills?"

You looked at him, confused, searching your memory for what he meant until the Rad-X pills surfaced in your mind. You remembered taking one that night after he'd left them on the bed, then discarding them into the recesses of your bag and not thinking about them since.

"What do the pills have to do with anything?" you asked, still bewildered.

Cooper's jaw clenched, frustration etched across his features as he averted his gaze once more. "Supposed to take 'em before exposure," he muttered, "but you were going wild, locking those thighs 'round me so damn hard. I might not seem like it, sweetheart, but I'm just a man," he added, his voice carrying both irritation and a hint of amusement.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, recalling the intensity of the moment when you ground down on his cock as he attempted to pry you off him, moments before he relented and filled you with his hot load.

"If you've been taking them regularly," he continued, meeting your eyes with a meaningful glance, "you'd likely have developed a fair resistance by now."

Accepting the Rad-X felt like a symbolic gesture, a token of protection offered in the aftermath of that intimate moment, meant to erase any lingering traces of radiation from him. You appreciated his small attempt at aftercare, yet couldn't shake the feeling that it was tinged with regret for his own actions. Now, as he sat before you, finally meeting your gaze after what felt like an eternity, a realization dawned upon you: his offering wasn't just a momentary solution, but a precaution for the future. It hinted at a desire for something more.

Your heart swelled with the realization, a mixture of relief and hope before reality dawned on you. "I haven't been taking them," you admitted, your voice soft but steady. "I didn't know that you wanted me to."

He rolled his eyes at the whine that cracked your voice, discarded his bandolier on the ground beside him before lifting his hand towards you with a curled finger in a beckoning gesture. Almost instinctively, you found yourself drawn towards him until you were standing above him, your legs positioned on either side of his as he gazed up at you. His gloved hands traced up the sides of your legs, pausing at your hips before firmly grasping them and tugging you down to your knees, so that you straddled him. A gasp escaped you, a blend of surprise and anticipation echoing in the air.

"Don't get it, do you?" he murmured, his voice a rough whisper against your ear as he pulled you closer. "I wanted to get you ready for me."

You shivered at his words, the intensity of his gaze boring into yours as you leant back to look at him. "Cooper, I—"

"Shh," he interrupted, his hands tightening on your hips, grounding you. "You're still talking too much."

His lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue pushing for dominance over yours as he held you tight against him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders for balance, feeling the rough fabric of his coat beneath your fingertips as he dragged your clothed cunt against the growing erection straining his dirty pinstripe pants. The friction sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your hips moving instinctively to grind against him, seeking more.

Cooper's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he guided your movements, his kiss growing more demanding. You moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his insistent lips. Every drag of your body against his made you wetter, your desire pooling between your thighs and soaking through the fabric of your underwear.

With a swift motion, he tugged your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before leaning in to capture one of your nipples between his teeth through the thin fabric of your bra. You gasped, your back arching as his hands worked to unclasp the garment and free your breasts. The cool air hit your skin briefly before his mouth was on you again, sucking and nipping at your sensitive flesh.

Your hands fumbled with the lapels of his coat, desperate to feel more of him, to erase the barriers between your bodies. He helped you, shrugging out of the heavy garment and discarding it with a careless flick of his wrist. You were pleasantly surprised when he let you undo the buttons of his waistcoat, shrugging it off before he stopped your fingers at their decent on his shirt.

"It stays on," he told you gruffly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice that urged you to accept his decision without a second thought. You nodded, your hands running over the fabric of his shirt and across his chest, down his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle beneath the material, the scars that told stories of his past. He groaned at your touch, his hips grinding up against you as his hands slid down to the waistband of your pants, deftly undoing the button and zipper.

"Lift up," he commanded, and you complied, rising just enough for him to peel the garment down your legs, your underwear following shortly after. You were completely exposed to him now, the cool air of the room making you shiver as he gazed at you with a hunger that made your pulse race.

"What a sight," he said, his voice rough with need as he pulled you back down onto his lap, your bare cunt pressing against his clothed erection

You whimpered, the heat of him so close yet so far driving you crazy. "Please, Cooper," you whispered, rocking your hips against him. "I need you."

"I know," he replied with a wicked grin, his hands gripping your ass and guiding your movements, the friction of his pants against your clit making you see stars. "Been needing you for a long time now. Long before that night."

You nibbled on your lip, the waves of pleasure cresting within you almost overwhelming as you surrendered to the sensation of him beneath you. "What kept you so long?" you gasped, your hand instinctively caressing the nape of his neck, your thumb tracing the contours of the thick muscles there.

He chuckled, leaning into your touch, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on your face. "Just honing my patience," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You huffed in exasperation at his calm demeanour, your hands moving to undo the buckle of his belt and the buttons of his pants. As you attempted to reach for him, your hand was swatted away, and you tried again, only to be met with the same resistance. "Hey, cut it out," you scolded him, a mix of frustration and desire evident in your tone.

"You'll get it, don't you doubt," he teased, his voice low and playful. With a swift movement, one gloved hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding their way into your wet heat. A gasp escaped your lips as he penetrated you, his touch igniting a fire within you. Another finger joined the first, and he expertly curled them upwards, hitting that sweet spot inside you that had you burying your face in the crook of his neck with a muffled cry. "Oh, there she is," he declared proudly, a smirk evident in his voice.

You mewled softly against his salty skin, your lips pressing eagerly against the muscle as he slid his leather-clad fingers in and out of you with a delicious rhythm. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, and you couldn't help but rock your hips into his palm, seeking out the friction that made your nerves sing.

You trailed hot kisses along the skin of his neck, feeling his pulse quicken beneath your lips, and then, unable to resist, you bared your teeth and bit down gently. His response was immediate—a deep, guttural groan—as he grabbed at your ass with his free hand, urging you on, encouraging you to ride his fingers with abandon.

Your mind swirled with the sensations of being wrapped around him once more, your movements growing increasingly erratic as you chased the elusive peak of pleasure. He smiled against your bare shoulder, his hand releasing it's hold on your behind to fumble inside your bag that rested beside him as he anticipated your impending climax.

Seconds later, he pushed you back slightly, holding a small brown bottle in his hand. You whined in protest as his fingers slowed to a taunting pace inside you, desperate to regain the momentum you had lost. Your hips bucked instinctively, urging him to quicken the pace once more.

He tapped your cheek lightly with two fingers from the hand that held the bottle, meeting your gaze with a serious expression. "One more move like that, and I'll take them out," he warned, his tone firm but tinged with amusement.

You frowned at the threat but nodded in compliance. Your eyes followed his movements as he deftly unscrewed the cap of the bottle with his teeth, retrieving one of the red pills with his fingers before setting the bottle aside. He held the pill out to you, his gaze fixated on your mouth as he spoke. "Let me see it."

You hesitated for a moment, then complied, slowly opening your mouth and extending your tongue for him. He delicately placed the pill on your tongue, prompting you to close your mouth with another tap on your cheek. As you did, he captured your lips in another passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he gently manipulated the pill inside your mouth. Finally, he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva between your lips as he watched you swallow the pill with a satisfied smile.

Your body vibrated at the intimacy, eyes blown as you felt his thick thumb begin to circle your clit, his earlier ministrations continuing as he fucked you hard with his fingers, bouncing you on the palm of his hand. His free hand slid back over the curve of your ass, squeezing firmly as he intensified his movements.

"C-Cooper, please," you began, your voice trembling with need as the heat between your legs intensified, the sound of your wetness filling the quiet room. You dug your nails into his shoulders, anchoring yourself in the overwhelming sensation as he pressed his thumb against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Almost," he murmured, pushing against the spongy spot inside you that had you hurtling towards the edge. Your eyes rolled back as you gushed into his palm, hot liquid streaming down your thighs as you screamed his name. He smirked, his fingers never ceasing their relentless pace as he stroked you through your orgasm. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he rocked you against him, grounding you in the midst of your intense pleasure. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "That's it, let it all out."

When the last surge of your climax had left your body, you slumped against his chest, head nestled in the crook of his neck as you caught your breath. You kissed his neck, running your lips up his strong jaw until you met his cracked lips. He hummed into you, grabbing your wrist tightly when you began to trail it down to the bulge in his pants.

"Easy there," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. His grip on your wrist was firm, almost possessive, and he held you close. "What's the hurry, sweetheart?"

You regarded him with incredulity, your gaze searching his eyes for any sign of understanding as you boldly voiced your desire. "I took the pill," you stated firmly, your words weighted with intent. "I want you to fuck me."

He chuckled, his gaze briefly dropping before meeting yours once more. "Oh, I know you do," he said, withdrawing his fingers from your sopping core. A whimper escaped your lips as your walls clenched around nothing, longing for the sensation he had just provided. He brought his glistening gloved fingers to his lips, licking at them with a low groan of approval. Then, he pressed the tips of his digits against your parted lips, hooking them inside your lower teeth while holding his thumb beneath your chin.

"Let this be your lesson to take the fuckin' pills," he admonished, his voice carrying a mixture of gratification and warning.

His hands fell away, and you frowned at the sudden absence of his touch. He placed the previously discarded pill bottle in your palm, closing your fingers around it gently before guiding you off his lap and onto your bedroll beside him with a soft thud. Stretching his arms above him, he folded them behind his head, settling further back against the wall as he gazed out at the crackling fire.

"Until then," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of resignation, "we'll both be practicing a little patience."

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #fallout #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #fallout prime #fallout fanfiction #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout x reader #fic request #fallout smut

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