#the way he’s holding his chest I wish that were me

[faithshouseofchaos]

hi i don't think this is a real request but for franco colapinto it's kinda cliche ikr (but i believe in your writing skills so)

older reader (u don't need to specific the age) who refuse to be with franco bc she thinks it's better for him to be with someone close his age, but ofc they're in love and franco is down bad for her even though she's kinda cruel sometimes

so angst with a happy end? or at least something realistic? idk and it's up to u to add other stuff! *oh and they're from the same country or foreigners etc*

“She calls me kidz bop” — Franco colapinto x fem!reader

Word count 3.5k

Warnings — Angst, heavy makeouts allusion of smut

This isn’t as good as I thought it would be

Tagged— @crispysoup318 @meeel-things @bieberismysoulmate @dejavuontrack @barcelonaloverf1life @nominsgirl @bluebluesol @chenlesbitxh @ironmaiden1313 @chunkpiboli @kr7-i-know-what-im-doing

Franco watched as y/n stood talking to her fellow driver Something deep inside him wished that she gave him the same attention as she did the rest of them. It didn’t matter if they had feelings for each other. It also didn’t matter that she was so cruel to him and gave him nicknames like Kidz Bop, Teeny Bopper, or Rug Rat.

He didn’t mind the teasing or the nicknames, he could take it. He’s used to being teased by others but not by the one he’s falling for, and he didn’t want to admit it but a part of him knew he was slowly concluding that he loved her. Franco leaned against the garage wall, staring at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.

He continued to observe y/n’s body language. The way she stood with her arms crossed, the way she laughed at the other driver’s jokes, even the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was maddening.

Franco clenched his jaw, trying to hold back his frustration. He wanted to speak to her but he was uncertain of what to say. As he watched her, he noticed she was glancing his way. A small smile crept onto his lips as he realized that she was looking his way. He felt a flutter in his chest, a mix of hope and nervousness. He took a deep breath, summoning his courage, and finally stepped forward.

As he approached, he could feel her eyes on him, studying him. He tried to act casually, his hands still in his pockets, but he couldn’t help the way his heart was racing. He cleared his throat, “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

Y/n turned her attention away from her co-drivers and looked at Franco, raising an eyebrow. “Sure, what do you want?”

Franco swallowed hard, trying to ignore the coolness in her voice. He took a step closer, not caring that they had an audience, “Can we talk somewhere a little more private?”

Y/n nodded, gesturing for him to follow her out of the garage. Once they were alone in a secluded area, she turned to him with her arms crossed. “What's on your mind, kidz bop?”

Franco took a deep breath, trying to ignore the nickname. He knew it was her way of keeping him at arm’s length, but it stung nonetheless. He looked into her eyes, gathering his courage. “I wanted to talk to you about us…”

Y/n’s expression remained neutral, but he could see a flicker of something in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow, “What about us?”

Franco rubbed the back of his neck, nervous. “Well, I just wanted to know…if there’s ever a chance for us?”

Y/n let out a snort, “A chance? Kidz bop, you’re way too young for me. You need to find someone your age.” Franco's heart sank at her words, but he tried to hide his disappointment. “I don’t care about age. I just want to be with you.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, very romantic. But I’m not interested in dating some kid who still has a curfew. I need someone more mature.” Franco clenched his fists in frustration, “I’m not a kid. I’m just as mature as any other driver out there.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, sure you are. I bet you still have a teddy bear in your bed and your mom still picks out your outfits.” Franco's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he tried to maintain his composure. He couldn’t deny that he had a teddy bear, but he certainly hadn’t asked his mom for fashion advice since he was 12.

“I’m a grown man,” he protested, “Just because I’m a rookie doesn’t mean I’m immature.” Y/n leaned against the wall, still looking unimpressed. “Oh? Prove it then, Teeny Bopper. Show me how mature you are.”

Franco was determined to show her that he wasn’t just some naïve rookie. He took a step closer to her, his heart pounding. “Fine. I’ll prove it to you.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden confidence. “Alright, I’m listening. Go ahead and impress me, rug rat.” Franco took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He was suddenly keenly aware of how close they were standing to each other. He could smell her perfume, a soft, musky scent that made his head spin.

He looked into her eyes, unflinching. “I’ll prove it by showing you that I’m serious about this. I’m not just some kid who doesn’t know what he wants. I know what I want, and it’s you.” Y/n’s expression softened just a bit. She was impressed by his directness, but still unconvinced. “You’re young, Franco. You don’t know what you want. You just think you do.”

Franco took another step closer to her. “I may be young, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m done with being treated like a kid. I know what I want, and I’m not going to give up until I get it.” Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his words, but she tried to maintain her cool facade. “You’re not going to give up, huh? You’re stubborn, aren’t you?”

Franco smirked, feeling a rush of confidence. “I can be when I want something. And I want you.”

He took another step forward, closing the gap between them. He was now standing so close to her that he could feel the heat of her body. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as he stepped closer. She hadn’t expected him to be so direct. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, and she had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him. But she held her ground, refusing to let him see how her resolve was starting to crumble.

“You don’t even know what you’re getting yourself into, kidz bop,” she teased, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice just before she walked away from him. Franco watched her walk away, a mix of frustration and determination coursing through his veins. He knew he had gotten to her this time, he had seen the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

He wasn’t going to give up, not until he had proven to her that he was serious. He was in love with her, and he wasn’t going to let her brush him off like some naive rookie.

Once again Franco found himself watching and observing y/n and this time was brought out of his thoughts by a large hand clapping him on the shoulder “You good there Franco?” Charles asked. Franco looked over at him and then back at y/n whose eyebrows were bunched up together and her lips in a thin tight line.

“Yeah I’m good,” Franco answered, looking down at his feet. Charles chuckled at Franco’s obvious lie. He followed Franco’s gaze to y/n, his smirk growing even more as he looked at her. “You have it bad don’t you?” Charles teased. Franco quickly shoved Charles’s arm off him as he gave him a nasty glare.

Charles cackled in response. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. How long are you gonna sit on your ass and not do something?” Charles said.

“There’s a reason why I haven’t,” Franco said, still stubbornly keeping his eyes on y/n.

“Which is?” Charles prompted.

“She’s too old for me,” Franco said. Charles’s jaw dropped.

“Bullshit! She’s what, 26? You’re 21! It’s not that big of an age difference, "he said.

“She thinks it is,” Franco said. Charles shook his head in disbelief at Franco’s stupidity.

“Goddamnit Franco. You’re a pretty handsome kid, why are you letting her have that much control over you? If you feel something for her then do something about it” Charles said.

Franco tore his eyes from y/n to look at Charles “There is something between us. But every time I try to talk to her about it, she shuts it down. Says that she’s too old for me and would rather I find someone my age” he confessed. Charles let out a scoff “She doesn’t mean it. She’s just running away because she doesn’t want to admit her feelings for you” he said.

Franco shook his head. “You don’t know that and besides she’s mean to me and she calls me kidz bop, teeny bopper, or rug rat.”

Charles rolled his eyes “Franco I’ve known y/n for much longer than you being mean to someone is her love language trust me the meaner she is to someone the more she cares for them. She calls me a pretty boy. She calls Fernando an old man. I've seen the way she looks at you. There’s no way she feels nothing.” Franco’s heart skipped a beat at Charles’s words.

“W-what do you mean ‘the way she looks at me’” he asked.

Charles smirked again “I mean you’re constantly in her line of sight whenever you’re in a room. Anytime she’s near you, she always seems to be hyper-aware of it. I don’t think she’s as immune to your charms as she makes herself seem.”

As much as Franco wanted to believe what Charles was telling him it was too hard. He’s seen the way y/n talks to the other drivers. They weren’t like that.

“I get that your old ass has much more relationship experience than I do. But you just don’t understand” Franco muttered, refusing to look at Charles. Charles shook his head at Franco “You’re a lot denser than I thought you were. If you’re gonna waste your opportunity with her then that’s your problem, not mine” he said before he sauntered off, leaving Franco by himself.

Franco stood there, his mind reeling from Charles's words. He couldn't shake the feeling that Charles was right about y/n. That she had feelings for him beneath all her harsh words and belittling nicknames. But he couldn't be sure.

Franco looked over to where y/n was still standing, her expression still tight and cold. He tried to muster up the courage to approach her again, but he couldn’t find the words. He was too overwhelmed by the possibility that she could feel something for him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever rejection came his way. Franco began to slowly make his way toward her, his heart pounding in his chest. With each step, he felt as though he was walking through mud, his legs refusing to cooperate.

Finally, he stood in front of her, his eyes locked on hers. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice much softer than he had intended.

She looked up at him, her eyes flickering with an unreadable expression. For a moment, he thought she was going to brush him off like she had so many times before.

“Fine. What do you want?” she asked, her voice as icy as ever. Franco swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. He had practiced all the things he wanted to say in his head, but now that he was standing in front of her, all of his words seemed to have vanished.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I just wanted to talk to you about us." "I know we're colleagues, but there's something more there, isn't there?" he said, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

She paused for a moment, her expression faltering for just a split second before her walls went back up. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked, feigning indifference. Franco took a small step forward, closing the space between them. He could feel the heat radiating off of her body, making him heady with desire.

"The way you look at me. The way you always watch me. I know you feel it too. You're just too scared to admit it." Her breath caught in her throat as he neared. She tried to pretend that his words did not affect her, but he could see the subtle change in her breathing, the way her body seemed to gravitate towards him.

"Scared? I'm not scared of anything, least of all you," she retorted, hoping he didn't notice the waver in her voice. "Then prove it," he said, his voice suddenly low and intense. He was so close to her now that he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her pulse fluttered in her neck.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against the softness of her skin. Her breath hitched at his touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. She fought the urge to lean into his touch, to finally give in to the overwhelming amount of tension that hung in the air between them. But she forced herself to take a step back, pulling herself out of his reach. "I don't have anything to prove to you," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

Franco couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that shot through him as she pulled away. He knew he was getting under her skin, but she was still fighting him.

But he had a card he hadn't played yet.

“Then why is this so hard?” he asked, his tone soft and gentle. “If we're just colleagues, then it should be easy for you to turn me down. Right?”

Inwardly, she was cursing his stubbornness. But he was right, and she was losing the battle with herself. She had been trying so hard to keep her feelings locked away, to deny the attraction that was growing hotter and hotter each day.

She tried to come up with a witty retort, but her throat was dry, and her mind was fuzzy. The way he was looking at her, the way he was so sure of himself, it was chipping away at her defenses. He took another step closer, closing the gap between them again. “Come on, admit it. This isn’t just some one-sided thing. You feel it too.”

She could feel his breath on her skin, the heat of his body so close to hers. She thought about denying it, pushing him away once more, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, she did the one thing she had promised herself she wouldn’t do.

She melted.

It was as if all the tension and resistance she had built up just disappeared. She found herself leaning into him, her body drawn to his like a magnet.

She looked up at him, her eyes betraying the vulnerability and desire that she had tried so hard to hide. "Franco..." she whispered. The sound of his name on her lips sent a jolt of electricity through his body. He could see the change in her eyes, the way they darkened with emotion.

He moved closer to her, his arms closing around her waist, pulling her against him. He leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from her ear. "Say it. Say you want me." The heat of his body against hers combined with the huskiness of his voice sent shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes, her body molding itself to his.

She took a shaky breath, her voice wavering. "I want you, Franco. Damn it, I want you." A rush of satisfaction and relief washed over him as he heard her words. He’d finally broken through her defenses, and now he had her exactly where he wanted her.

He pulled her even closer, his hands slipping under the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of her back.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that," he murmured against her neck. She let out a soft gasp as he touched her skin, her body arching into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair.

She had tried to deny it for so long, but now that she had finally given in, it was like an unstoppable force of nature. All she wanted was to be closer to him, to feel him completely. He claimed her mouth in a deep, searing kiss, his body pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her skin, exploring every curve and contour of her body. It felt like a dam had broken, and all the pent-up desire that had been building between them was suddenly unleashed.

She returned his kiss with equal fervor, her tongue tangling with his. She ran her hands along his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt.

She wanted more, so much more. She was drowning in the sensation of him, losing herself in the heat and the passion of their embrace. Franco pressed himself against her, trapping her between the wall and his body. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin.

He could feel her coming undone, her body growing more and more pliant against his. He could tell that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and it was driving him insane. She let out a desperate gasp as he found a particularly sensitive spot beneath her ear, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. She couldn't think straight, her mind fuzzy with desire. The only thing that existed at that moment was the feel of his body against hers, the taste of his skin, and the way his hands sent sparks of pleasure dancing over her skin.

He continued to explore her body, his hands drifting down her sides, his fingertips tracing the edge of her waistband. He dipped his head lower, his lips trailing along her collarbone, then down her chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses on her skin. She whimpered and shivered beneath his touch, her body becoming a raw nerve of sensation. Her hips rocked against his, seeking more contact, more friction. She felt like she was on fire, burning up from the inside out.

He could feel her body reacting to his every touch, the way her hips moved against his, the way her hands clutched at his hair, pulling him closer. He could hear the soft gasps and moans escaping her lips, the sound sending a flood of heat straight to his core.

He pulled away just long enough to look at her, his eyes dark and intense.

“God, I love it when you make those sounds,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. The desire in his gaze, the rough rasp of his voice, it was too much for her. She reached up and pulled him back down to her, her lips crashing against his in a fierce kiss.

Her body was overwhelmed by the intensity of her desire for him, the need for him almost unbearable. He met her kiss with urgency, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her completely. He pressed himself against her, his body fitting perfectly against hers.

He let his hands slide down to her thighs, lifting her so her legs wrapped around his waist, pinning her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him, her body flush against his. She could feel every muscle, every contour, every inch of him. She couldn't get enough, she wanted to be even closer.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him tight against her, her tongue exploring his mouth with feverish desperation. He pressed himself harder against her, his body desperate to get even closer to hers. He let his hands slide up to her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to mark her as his. She tilted her head back, exposing her neck to him, her body arching into his touch. A soft moan escaped her lips as he licked and sucked at her skin, his stubble sending sparks of pleasure dancing across her nerve endings. He found a particularly sensitive spot just below her ear, and he lingered there, his lips and tongue working her into a frenzy. He could feel her responding to his touch, her body trembling against his, moans and gasps escaping from her lips.

He nipped and sucked at her skin, leaving a trail of red marks down her neck and collarbone. She was completely undone, her mind consumed with nothing but him and the pleasure he was causing her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body writhing against his.

Each flick of his tongue and each press of his lips sent shockwaves of ecstasy through her body, stoking the fire that burned within her. He pulled back slightly, taking in the sight of her - flushed and breathless, completely at his mercy. He wanted to claim her completely, to make her his in every way possible.

He lowered her down just a little bit, his body still pressed close to hers, and he looked into her eyes, his gaze intense and hungry. She gazed up at him, her eyes dark and hooded with desire. Her hair was tousled, and her shirt wrinkled where his hands had been. She looked wrecked already and they'd barely even started.

She met his gaze, her own just as hungry and intense. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her, and nothing was going to stop them now.

[mythicalmaven]

omg i saw your prompt list and I'm a sucker for oscar lately, so i thought 45 (God, I am so in love with you) with him? fluff please :)

i love your writing btw!

First Kiss - Oscar Piastri (requested)

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader ↳word count: 0.8K ↳summary: In which Oscar wins the Azerbaijan GP & finally kisses you for the first time ↳prompts used: 45 - "God, I am so in love with you"

Oscar had been in love with you for years, a secret he’d kept tucked away in the corners of his heart, afraid of what would happen if he ever let it out. He’d watch you laugh, your eyes sparkling with a light that made everything else fade away, and he’d feel his chest tighten with the words he could never quite say.

You’d been his best friend since forever, the person who knew him better than anyone else. Every victory, every defeat—you were there, cheering him on or comforting him in the quiet moments when the world seemed too much. But as much as he cherished your friendship, he was terrified to risk it by confessing his feelings, convinced that you saw him as nothing more than a friend.

It was a thought that haunted him every time he caught you looking at him with that warm smile, every time your hand brushed against his, sending electric shocks through his body. He couldn’t imagine a life without you in it, so he swallowed down his love, settling for being your best friend even if it meant his heart ached every time you were near.

But everything changed the morning of the Baku race. He was in the paddock, nerves buzzing under his skin as he tried to focus on the upcoming race, terribly failing as he catched himself staring at you once again. But then Lando came up to him with a knowing smile.

“You know she’s in love with you too, right?” Lando said casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on him.

Oscar blinked, his brain struggling to process the words. “What?”

“Yeah,” he continued, oblivious to the way his heart was suddenly racing. “She’s been head over heels for you for ages. Honestly, it’s kind of obvious. I thought you knew.”

He stood there, stunned, his mind spinning as everything he thought he knew shifted. You were in love with him? All those moments he’d dismissed as wishful thinking, the lingering touches, the way you looked at him—had he been blind to it all?

"Are you sure?" Oscar asked, completely dumbfounded. Afraid that Lando might got the wrong signals, that it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Couldn't be more sure" Lando smiled at him, patting his shoulder "Mate, she legit told me, 'I wonder if Oscar has any idea how crazy I am about him.' That clear enough for you?" he chuckled, mocking your love sick tone "Didn't wan't to be the one to spill the beans, but I'm pretty sure the both of you otherwise would have been too shy too ever confess to each other"

His heart soared, hope blossoming in his chest, but there was no time to process it. The call for the race was going out, and he had to get to the grid. He barely remembered the moments that followed, his body moving on autopilot as he climbed into the car, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

And when he crossed the finish line, his first instinct wasn’t to celebrate the victory—it was to find you, to tell you everything he’d been holding back for so long. Because now he knew. And he wasn’t going to let another moment slip by without you knowing, too.

He glanced around, searching the crowd with an urgency you’d never seen before. When his eyes locked onto yours, a grin split his face. Without a second thought, he handed his helmet to a nearby mechanic and practically sprinted toward you. Your heart leaped into your throat as he reached the barrier, reaching out to lift you over it with ease. His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the intense look in his eyes.

“Oscar—” you began, but your words were cut off as he crashed his lips onto yours, his kiss filled with a raw, unspoken longing. You gasped against his mouth, stunned, but the surprise quickly melted into warmth as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their shouts echoing around you, but it all faded into a blur. It was just the two of you, standing there in the middle of the chaos, wrapped up in each other. The kiss was everything you’d ever dreamed of—soft yet demanding, sweet but full of a simmering passion that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the joy and relief radiating from him, his lips moving against yours with a mix of exhilaration and tenderness that made your legs weak.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and dazed, Oscar rested his forehead against yours, his eyes sparkling with unspoken words. His thumb brushed over your cheek as he searched your gaze, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I love you too, by the way,” he whispered, his voice slightly breathless but steady.

A giggle bubbled up from your chest, pure happiness spilling over as you leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. The cameras were still flashing, the crowd still cheering, but all you could focus on was the warmth of his hands and the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Oscar’s gaze never left you, his grin widening with each passing moment. Finally, he could hold you the way he’d always longed to. He’d admired you for so long, captivated by your beauty. But now, seeing you up close, you looked even more stunning. He was completely smitten. “God, I am so in love with you.”

Masterlist

[punkshort]

Can You Remember Who You Were?

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: When you struggle to stop obsessing about the handsome stranger you met at a coffee shop who ghosted you after one date, fate eventually forces you back together.

Warnings: language, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f!receiving), omegaverse dynamics, alcohol consumption, minor physical altercation

WC: 9.1K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: For @burntheedges's Roll a Trope challenge I got reincarnation. I also mixed in some a/b/o stuff because I've always wanted to give it a try. Go easy on me, I'm nervous about this one - hope you enjoy. And thank you to @txtattoostark for holding my hand.

When you first met, it was happenstance. An awkward run-in at your favorite coffee shop where he thought your coffee was his until he read your name written on the cup aloud and had the grace to look bashful when he handed it over. A moment later, his own order was ready and you caught the name Dave scrawled on the side. He smiled and raised his cup to you before taking a sip and wishing you a good day before disappearing out onto the busy street.

It was a simple interaction. Nothing terribly special. But you couldn't stop thinking about him the rest of the day.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

Dave, with the soft, gentle brown eyes. Dave, with the chiseled, clean shaven jaw and strong, angular nose. Dave, with the broad shoulders that strained underneath his blue button-down shirt. Dave, with the bare ring finger that still had a visible, yet faded, tan line.

Something about him stuck with you. You felt drawn to him. Connected, somehow, yet you didn't even know him.

After the weekend passed, you managed to clear him from your mind, if only because you stayed as busy as possible. You cleaned your apartment top to bottom. You went to a concert for a band you didn't even like with your friends. You even called your parents and suffered through another phone call where you heard about your brother and sister's lives, how their respective children were, how your brother got a promotion and your sister was thinking of having a third baby. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, your parents already knowing the answer and predicting your negative reaction by now, so it remained unsaid. But it still stung to be compared to your siblings in that way. Your parents had a skewed notion that maybe it would encourage you to try a little harder if they kept pointing out your brother's success and your sister's natural instinct for motherhood, but it only made you draw into yourself tighter.

Once it was Monday again, you dragged yourself to work. You were so tired from your overly busy weekend that you didn't even think about Dave when you entered the coffee shop. You stood in line, zoning out and in desperate need of caffeine when the door swung open and shut behind you and the sound of dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floors neared.

"Promise not to steal your coffee again."

You swiveled around, eyes wide and heart rattling in your chest when you fixed your gaze on none other than Dave. And much to your dismay, he looked even better than you remembered.

"Oh," you squeaked, subconsciously fixing your hair and glancing around to buy yourself a moment to recover. "Hi again. Two days in a row, what are the odds?" you chuckled dryly, hoping you didn't sound as stupid as you felt. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled down at you.

"Could've been four but I guess you don't come here on the weekends."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you struggled to respond. Dave took that to mean he caused you offense and quickly rectified it, not wanting to sound like a stalker.

"I'm just kidding."

You laughed and rubbed the scar on the back of your neck, your head spinning. Was he just kidding? Did he come here over the weekend? And if he did, was he hoping to run into you?

"I work around the corner," you explained, telling him the company you worked for. Your mother would have scolded you for telling a stranger where you worked, especially one who might have just admitted to coming to the coffee shop in the hopes of running into you, but you knew it was safe. You didn't know how you knew, you just knew.

Dave nodded and was about to speak when the barista ushered you forward so you could place your order. Before you had a chance to pull out your wallet, Dave leaned over you to tell the barista you were together and added his order before handing over his card.

You couldn't stop the shudder that went down your spine when you heard him speak so close to you, the vibrations of his voice sending a current of electricity through you. At this distance, you could practically smell him, too, and it wasn't just his cologne. It was something else that you couldn't identify but had you weak in the knees.

To be polite, you turned to deny his offer, but he spoke first. And when he did, telling you not to argue and he was happy to do it, his voice deepened and the timber alone caused your body to weaken and your eyes cast down obediently.

"Do you work around here, too?" you asked once you got your coffees and you thanked him for the third time.

"No, I don't."

He walked towards the door and held it open for you, a fourth thank you slipping from your lips. You got the feeling he liked hearing you so thankful and sweet. He smiled every time you said it.

"What brings you out this way, then? Do you live nearby? I don't think I've seen you here before."

Dave walked you to the corner where a shiny, black BMW sat parked.

"Let's just say there's something about the atmosphere I like at this place."

Your face flushed and you took a sip from your coffee, burning your tongue in the process, while you tried to think of something to say. Then you heard the bells from a nearby church and you were stricken with panic.

"Oh, shit! It's already eight?" you asked, yanking your phone out to check the time. You were already late and you still had a ten minute walk ahead of you.

"Come on, get in," Dave said, holding open the passenger side door. "I'll drop you off. You said it's just down the street?"

You contemplated his offer for about three seconds before nodding and jumping into his car. In only took him about two minutes to drop you off in front of your building but you couldn't stop thanking him the entire way, something that continued to delight him.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern. You showed up at your usual time and mysteriously, Dave would appear within a few minutes. He would insist on buying your coffee and on nice days, he would walk you to work. If it was rainy or windy, he would drive you.

By Friday he finally asked for your number and by Saturday you were getting ready for your first date.

Shannon was your age but she always seemed to be so much wiser and grounded. She had a very different view on life, but she was sweet and fun and you got along the moment you met. While you were used to going out to bars on a Friday night, Shannon preferred to stay in and read about horoscopes, take stock of her essential oils, do some light yoga, or scour eBay for rare crystals. You thought she was a hippie, she preferred spiritually inclined.

Regardless of your differences, she still was a wonderful person and was always there for you. Whether you were going through a bad breakup or upset about something your mom said, she would always be there to listen, rub your back, and kindly suggest a way to unblock your chakra.

You had a handful of other friends who would gladly come over and drink wine while you tried on outfits and help with your makeup, but that wasn't what you needed. You had something else entirely on your mind and you couldn't think of anyone else who might be able to help besides Shannon.

"I've been having dreams."

Shannon raised an eyebrow so far up, it got lost under her curly blonde bangs and thick rimmed glasses.

"What sort of dreams?"

You sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed, your dress partially zipped. "About Dave. And me. And it's just... strange."

Shannon shifted a bit on your mattress, her clunky jade bracelets knocking together in the process. "Go on."

"It feels like a reoccurring dream, but it's not exactly the same. The feeling is the same, though."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "And what are you doing in these dreams?"

Your face warmed up and you stared at the floor when you said, "Well, we're having sex. But it's not just sex. It's different. Like," you waved your hands in the air as you struggled to come up with an explanation. "I know this will sound crazy, but it feels like in my dreams, we have more of a connection. Like, a purpose or something? And in my dreams it feels so much more intense compared to other guys I've slept with."

"How so?"

You had to give her credit. Shannon was too kind to ever tease you.

"Intense like... if we don't fuck, I'll go certifiably insane."

"Oh," she said, nodding her head, completely unphased. "Interesting. It kind of sounds like something I've read about once before. Have you ever heard of -"

Your doorbell buzzed and you leapt off the bed. "Oh, my god! Zip me up! He's here!"

When you flung your front door open, Dave spun around with a smile, one which widened when his eyes drifted appreciatively up and down your frame.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, feeling that magnetic pull low in your belly again just at the mere sight of him.

"You look beautiful," he told you, and just as he was about to lean in and kiss your cheek, he spotted Shannon emerge from your bedroom behind you with a little wave.

"Oh, this is my friend, she was helping me get ready," you said, turning to introduce them while you grabbed a leather jacket and your purse.

"Have a great time, I'll lock up when I leave."

You both thanked her before heading outside towards Dave's car. His arm naturally found its place protectively around your waist and you practically glowed from his touch.

Dave picked a restaurant that you'd never heard of and when you walked inside, you quickly figured out why. It was easily the fanciest place you had ever eaten and if it wasn't for his reassuring touch or warm smile, you would have felt out of place. But once you sat down, the rest of the room melted away and it was just the two of you in your own little world. The entire time you both were leaning across the table, bodies pulling closer and closer on their own accord as you absorbed every little detail about each other. You learned Dave used to be in the military and now works as an operative in the CIA, something that should have intimidated you but it just made him more attractive. He was a protector, he knew how to handle himself and he was smart, qualities which turned you on and had you yearning for more.

When he admitted to being recently divorced, the hairs on your arm stood up and jealousy bloomed hot in your chest. The sudden idea of him with another partner unlocked something inside you that screamed mine, mine, mine.

By all accounts, your first date was perfect. There was never any lack of topics for conversation, you always felt perfectly at ease and safe, and it went by way too fast even though you were the last table to leave the restaurant.

But when he dropped you off and walked you to your door, something changed from that point forward. He kissed you, gently and sweetly at first, but when your lips brushed together for the very first time it set something on fire inside you that you couldn't ignore. You had no idea how it happened, but the next thing you knew he was pinning you up against your door, your wrists captured in each of his massive hands and held next to your head while his tongue licked aggressively into your mouth.

Then you released a little whimper, a little cry against his mouth and it nearly brought him to his knees. The needy sound reverberated through his entire being and had him forgetting who he was, where he was, what planet he was on because that little sound had his body and mind responding in a way he couldn't explain.

And it frightened him.

He pulled away and put some distance between you, palm dragging over his wet mouth, eyes hungrily devouring your wrecked state. Still leaning against the door, you panted heavily and stared at him through heavy lidded eyes.

He scratched at something invisible behind his ear and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I should go."

You frowned, still trying to catch your breath. "W-what? Was it something -"

Dave quickly shook his head and stepped further away.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he promised, then turned on his heel, practically running back to his car while you stood there, completely dumbfounded.

As it turned out, you did not hear from him the following day. Nor did you see him at your coffee spot the entire fucking week. By Tuesday, after sending a few pathetic texts that went unanswered, you forced yourself to accept reality.

Dave ghosted you and you would never see him again.

It was just one date. You only knew him for a week but it felt like so much more and you couldn't help but be torn up about it.

On Tuesday night, you called Shannon to tell her. You did your best not to cry but she could hear it in your voice.

"It felt like such a strong connection, you know?" you said sadly, plucking at a loose thread on your sweater.

"Well, what do you think happened?"

You shrugged and tossed yourself backwards onto your bed. "I don't know. The date went great, he dropped me off at the front door, we were kissing and things were getting heated and then all of the sudden, just -" you snapped your fingers. "He had to leave. Said he would talk to me the next day and I never heard from him again."

You heard her hum on the other end and clink a spoon in her mug. "Suppose my silly theory was wrong, then."

"What theory?"

"The dreams you were having and the feelings you were describing sounded like something I've read in one of my books, I wondered if it were real."

One of her books. You rolled your eyes, knowing she had a very strange collection of reference material spanning from meditation and Hinduism to books about Karma and the Kama Sutra.

Even so, you humored her and let her continue.

"Do you believe in past lives?" she asked. You hid your scoff behind your hand and cleared your throat.

"Uh, can't say that I do."

"That's okay, I know it's a bit out there, but it sounds very much like you might have a connection with this man that supersedes this earthly plane. And what I mean is, you may be destined to be together."

"Like, soulmates?" you asked dubiously.

"Mmm, not exactly. What I'm thinking is a little more physical. I have a book that talks about reincarnation and the ability to imprint on another person to the degree where the link follows you throughout all your lives. If it's at all possible, you will always find each other. Although it's usually pretty rare..."

"What do you mean, if it's possible?"

Shannon flipped through some pages of a book, humming under her breath before she said, "Well, if one of you comes back as a bear and the other a human, odds are it won't be a happy reunion."

You couldn't help it, you had to laugh. Shannon wasn't offended. She knew you didn't mean any disrespect and her beliefs were a little more difficult for others to understand.

"Okay, thank you. I needed a reality check," you said with a smile. "I hear what you're saying: we just met and there's zero reason for me to be acting this way."

"No, that's not at all what I mean," Shannon replied. "I haven't actually known anyone personally who went through something like this, but I've read about this phenomenon online."

"Alright, this is getting a little too weird, even for me," you said, sitting up in bed.

"Just Google it!" Shannon told you before you finished your call. "Read what others have said and see if you can relate."

You promised her you would give it a try the next day but you never got around to it. Instead, you went back to moping and staring at your ignored texts to Dave for the rest of the week.

By the time Friday came, you were ready to blow off some steam, refusing to spend another night wasting away over some man who just happened to be an insanely good kisser and whose scent you couldn't erase from your memory.

You agreed to go out with a small group of girls after work. The alcohol buzzing in your veins and the loud music in the bar helped you forget about Dave, but when other men approached you to dance, you just couldn't do it. You politely turned them down and stayed with your co-workers, Dave's rejection still leaving its mark on you. You listened to them complain about a team lead they couldn't stand who got a promotion she didn't deserve and then, as they began to drink a little more, discussed the finer qualities of the cute guy in the mail room.

In retrospect, leaving by yourself when you became too tired wasn't the best choice. You had a longer walk back to your bus stop than usual and it was eerily quiet out, but you wrapped your arms around yourself and kept your head down. And it almost worked, too, until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Need a ride, pretty girl?"

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you kept pushing forward after tossing a no, thanks over your shoulder.

"Don't need to be rude," the voice replied, now much closer. You glanced around nervously and didn't see another soul on the street. Only parked cars.

You moved faster but it wasn't good enough. A hand clasped onto your shoulder, grip firm and frightening, and fear shot through you. You broke out into a cold sweat when he pushed you against a building, caging you in and leering down at you, his sour breath poisoned by alcohol. You recognized him as someone from the bar but before you had a chance to process anything else, two massive hands dug into his shoulders and yanked him away in the blink of an eye.

You shirked away when you heard a fist meeting soft tissue, then the clattering of teeth and a pained groan. Your savior's voice growled threateningly, warning the man to get the fuck out of here before I put you in the goddamn hospital, then you heard the squeaking of shoes against concrete and hurried, retreating footsteps down the street.

You were scared. He could sense it. He could fucking smell it. It made his skin crawl and his stomach turn.

Dave's voice was so deep and gravelly, you didn't even recognize him. Not until he crouched in front of you on the street, his dark eyes filled with worry as they scanned your face for any injury did you realize it was even him. Tears welled up in your eyes and he cupped your face. He looked like he was in extreme pain as he watched your tears begin to fall. He then stood, scooping you up so he could carry you to a nearby parked car.

"I'm going to take you home," he said when he placed you gently in the front seat. You had about fifteen seconds to gather your thoughts while he hurried around to the other side of his car.

"Why are you here, Dave?" you asked when he turned his key in the ignition. He paused momentarily before putting his seatbelt on and merging onto the empty street.

"Right place, right time," he muttered. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. You watched him closely from the passenger seat, not believing him for one second but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't frighten you. In fact, you liked it. The idea of Dave being nearby, possibly watching you, made you feel safe and protected, although you hardly knew him.

You took a deep breath, about to muster up the courage to ask him why he had ignored you all week when you were suddenly overwhelmed with his scent. You couldn't describe it but it was a smell uniquely tied to him. You made a little noise in the back of your throat and squirmed in your seat, desperately trying to stay focused and present, but your body had other plans.

Dave's eyes shifted to you, his nostrils flaring at the way your legs rubbed together and your breath picked up and then he smelled it: the first scent of your arousal in the air. That was all it took for him to forget who he was and succumb to his baser instincts.

His cock throbbed painfully hard in his jeans and his molars were practically ground to dust by the time he arrived at your apartment. You fumbled with the seatbelt, desperate to disappear inside and pretend this embarrassing interaction never happened, but you weren't fast enough. Dave had gotten out of the car so quickly that he was already yanking your door open and violently pulling the seatbelt away from your waist. You blinked up at him as if you were trying to clear your vision and jumped out of the car.

Something felt wrong.

You had an ache between your legs that was growing impossible to ignore and your brain was a hazy, swirly mess being so close to his scent. Did someone spike your drink at the bar?

"Thanks," you whispered, chest rising and falling faster as you tried to drag in more air. Your skin was far too sensitive. All you could think about was getting inside before you tore your clothes off in the middle of the parking lot. "I'll, um, see you around, I guess."

He nodded, his neck and cheeks tinted pink as he stared down at you hungrily. "Wait," he croaked when you made a move to leave, eyes burning red hot into you. "Can we - can I explain - fuck," he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to block your scent from his nostrils so he could take a second to fucking think. He felt like he was going insane and he had no idea why.

"You wanna come inside and explain why you haven't talked to me in a week?" you asked bitterly, your arousal temporarily forgotten. "Why you've been ignoring me? Why you made me feel terrible? I was out tonight trying to forget you, Dave. I was hoping it would be the first night all week I didn't cry, but it's too late for that."

He swallowed thickly, eyes all wide and filled with despair as he gazed down at you. "I made you cry?" he asked softly. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he failed, that he did the one fucking thing he shouldn't have done.

You huffed and crossed your arms before looking away. "You hurt my feelings, Dave," you mumbled.

His heart lurched in his chest and he took a step forward to gently cup your face. Despite your anger, you gazed up at him with glassy eyes and almost immediately melted into his touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. Will you let me explain?"

Reluctantly, you nodded and allowed him to trail after you to your front door.

You flicked the lights on in your kitchen and living room before turning around. Dave stood there looking too big in your average sized apartment, gaze drifting over your walls, your pictures, your plants, your life.

With a little distance, he could feel the clouds clearing and his senses returning, so he took a steadying breath before speaking.

"About last week," he began. You were in the middle of closing your curtains when you turned around to listen. "I didn't want to scare you, but something happened to me that night." You frowned, pulling the curtains closed the rest of the way and took a few steps towards him. Almost instantly he could smell you again, the wetness between your legs practically calling to him, and he quickly held up both hands so you would stop.

"You gotta stay over there," he warned. Hurt flickered over your face but you obeyed and stepped back until you were by the window again. After a moment, the air cleared enough so he could focus and he slowly dropped his hands back to his sides. He was so hard, it almost made him sick.

"I'm sorry," he said once again. "That's part of what I'm talking about. When you're close to me," he pursed his lips and dropped his chin to his chest while you patiently waited for him to continue. "When you're close to me, I can't fucking think straight. And I know it sounds dramatic," he chuckled, looking back up at you across the room. "I know it sounds like I'm making it up but I promise you, I'm not."

"I think I know what you mean," you said softly after a quiet moment. His eyebrows raised a bit, curious for you to elaborate. "It's like... your scent."

"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I don't understand it but you're giving off a scent and it's doing something to me. Something that frightens me."

You swallowed nervously and took a small step forward.

"Would you... hurt me?"

Dave's eyes went wide and he vigorously shook his head.

"No," he whispered, "never."

You took another step forward and his eyes flickered down to your feet.

"Then what would you do to me?"

His eyes slid shut and he crossed his arms over his chest. What wouldn't he do to you? He would bury his face between your legs until you screamed his name. He would stuff you full of his cock over and over, as many times as you could take it. He wanted to leave love bites all over your body so anyone looking at you would know you're his.

But that would be absurd. You just met and only had one date.

Without even needing to open his eyes, he knew you were closer. The thick smell of your slick filled the air, swirling around him, driving him to the brink of insanity until he was convinced the only cure would be to fuck you senseless.

"I feel it, too, Dave," you whispered, your hands coming up to pull lightly on his arms, unknotting them from their protective place over his chest. You nipped hesitantly at his neck, your lips puckering over his tanned skin, and he felt his resolve crumble.

"Fuck, what is this?" he breathed, his body pulling him forward. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His mouth pressed into your hair, deeply breathing in your scent, then he dragged his mouth lower. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, the burst of flavor - you - making his head swim the closer he got to the back of your neck. Before he reached the scar you kept hidden by your hair, he pulled back, gasping for air.

"Come with me," you said with heavy lidded eyes and wet, parted lips. He nodded and followed you, logic and reason fading with each step. He had never felt like this before. It felt like he was being driven by pure instinct, like some kind of animal.

Dave swallowed when you pulled your shirt over your head as you walked, your bare back teasing him with what he could not yet see. Then you worked on your pants, unbuttoning and shimmying out of them as you approached your bed. His cock strained against the metal zipper of his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to be buried deep inside your soaked cunt. And it was soaked. He could see your dampness darkening the fabric of your underwear when you bent forward.

Finally, you turned to face him wearing nothing but your panties and a nervous smile. A low groan escaped from the back of his throat while his gaze drifted slowly down your body, taking in every soft curve and slope while he began to unbutton his shirt.

"You're perfect," he said lowly, shrugging off his shirt before his hands found his belt. "I want you so fucking bad, sweetheart, it hurts. I want to make you mine, make you scream my name til it's the only word you ever remember. I want to fill you up so you're feeling me for days. Want to give you everything you could ever need. Then I want to do it all over again."

Your knees felt weak as you felt another wave of arousal spread through your stomach and between your legs. Shakily, you crawled onto the bed as Dave approached like a predator from the doorway, shedding his clothes and pinning you with an intense stare that, if it were anyone else, would make you nervous.

"You want all that?" he asked you. You were nodding but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the bulge straining in his boxers now that he stepped out of his pants. "Say it," he commanded, and something about his tone made your eyes snap up to his and your spine immediately straighten.

"Yes. I want it. I want you," you replied, then reached your arms out for him to join you. A pleased look passed across his face at your invitation as he kneeled on the bed with you, towering over you with his broad frame, making you feel so small.

He leaned forward with his hands brushing lightly over your shoulders and his lips parted as he admired you openly. Then he murmured, "Lay down and spread your legs," and you felt your stomach flip as you did what you were told.

Dave palmed himself through his boxers when his eyes locked onto the wet spot spreading in your underwear. His long fingers hooked around the fabric and pulled them down, slowly exposing yourself to him. You watched, squirming impatiently, as his eyes turned from brown to almost black when he took a deep breath and spread your legs wide into the bedding.

"I need you," you whimpered. Your skin felt like it was on fire and you were so aroused it almost fucking hurt but you were certain Dave would be able to fix it. You didn't know why or how, but you just knew.

"I know, baby," he said, shifting down so he laid between your legs, his angular nose nudging against your folds and his hot breath fanning over your leaking cunt. You shivered and whined but his big hands held you in place.

"I'm gonna take good care of you, don't worry," was the last thing he said before he placed a sweet kiss on your mound. Then he kissed you again except that time, his tongue flicked out, catching your clit, and the noise that came from your mouth was borderline embarrassing.

"God, you're so wet," he whispered in awe inbetween plunging his tongue in and out of your opening, reveling in the taste of your pussy. The way your scent had engulfed him made him feel insane and the only thing he wanted to do was pull more sweet noises from your lips.

There was no explaining that night. At least, not rationally. The two of you fell into something neither of you experienced before but somehow was all too familiar. You found yourself being far more submissive than you ever were with anybody else, like your body had taken over and knew just what to do. Anything Dave asked of you, you did it, trusting him implicitly.

It was a combination of your sobs and whimpers that drove him forward like an animal, unable to stop eating at your cunt until you came twice from his tongue. You finally had to tug on his hair to pull him away, your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving beneath him.

"Could smell you all fucking night," he admitted hoarsely, wiping his palm over his slick covered mouth. "Drove me crazy, couldn't stop thinking about it. Christ, I- I've never needed someone this badly, baby," he told you as he pushed his boxers off and gripped the base of his cock in his fist. "'M sorry, can't explain it-"

"I know," you croaked before hauling yourself up from the mattress. You moved towards him on your knees, legs still wobbly but you managed to hold yourself up. "I feel it, too. I don't want to leave this bed for a week," you murmured before pressing your lips against his and groaning at the taste of you on his mouth. Again, all you could think was mine, mine, mine. You were consumed by the thought, overwhelmed by the idea of Dave smelling like you so everybody would know he was yours.

Your tongue dove into his mouth greedily, a sentiment he easily returned. You dragged your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his broad shoulders and down his soft stomach until you found his cock standing at attention between you.

"I- shit," Dave moaned when your lips nipped and sucked down his jaw until you found a tender spot behind his ear you seemed to like while your fist slowly pumped him up and down. "I don't have a condom, I didn't think... do you have any?"

You did, but you paused and thought about it. Even though you were on birth control, you still always used a condom, just to be extra safe. But the idea of having a barrier between you and Dave just felt wrong. You wanted to feel him bare, you needed it. So, you decided on a non-answer.

"I'm on birth control," you whispered, and Dave seemed just as relieved as you at the prospect of taking you raw. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the way you continued to suck and bite at the spot behind his ear while stroking his cock. He wanted to tell you there was a scar there, one he couldn't remember getting, but he was struggling to form a coherent thought.

When your teeth grazed his skin too harshly, he growled and bared his teeth like a goddamn animal, but not because it hurt. Because it felt good.

"Think you can take it, baby?" he rasped, fingers pressing into the softness of your hips.

"Mhmm," you hummed, finally tearing yourself away from his neck, proudly leaving a little red mark of your own before letting go of his cock and twisting around to fall onto all fours.

Dave moaned at the sight of you presenting yourself to him on a silver fucking platter before crawling forward.

He took hold of himself, all heavy and leaking, so he could notch at your entrance. He hummed a little, enjoying the way your warmth spread over his engorged tip, using it to spread your slick around to make it easier to first enter you.

Impatiently, you wiggled a little and tried to spear yourself on him, but he chuckled and grabbed your waist, making you still.

"Want it that bad?" he taunted, voice dropping low, the lust in his veins pumping hard and fast through every inch of his body.

"Yes," you whined, tilting your head back as if you were in pain. "Yes. Please, Dave, don't tease me."

And how could he deny you? He simply wasn't strong enough, his need for you so hot that it burned through his resolve in a matter of seconds.

His eyelids fluttered when his tip slipped past your folds, jaw dropped when he first pressed a few inches inside, face twisting and breath growing ragged when his hips finally came flush with your ass.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, blinking away the tears that suddenly burned his eyes. Shaky hands found your hips and he braced himself, taking a few deep breaths while he waited for your walls to relax and your whimpering to quiet down.

Dave swallowed and looked down, nearly coming apart right then and there at the sight.

"God, baby, you oughta see the way you stretch for me," he breathed, still staring down where you were connected. "That feel good? Hm? Talk to me," he pleaded before drawing back an inch just to watch more of your arousal get pushed out when he slid back inside.

"Yes," you hissed, "I'm so hot, Dave, it feels like I'm on fucking fire, please fucking move."

"Are you sure?" he asked, but his hips had already begun to rock into you without his permission. You nodded and let your eyes fall closed so you could focus on the way each one of his thrusts and grunts soothed the flames roaring inside you.

"Harder," you whispered, not even sure he heard it, but then a moment later his grip around you tightened and his hips snapped faster, the sounds of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room and making you dizzy.

You heard him whispering something to himself but you couldn't make it out. You craned your neck back, bleary eyes trying to find his but every forceful thrust of his hips jolted your entire body and sent you halfway up the bed just to have his massive hands drag you back down.

"Fuck it," he murmured before grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up so your back was pressed to his chest. You gasped in surprise and cried out at his relentless pace, never once missing a beat. One of your hands reached around to grab the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close so his mouth was directly next to your ear.

"So - fucking - tight. Want you so - fucking - bad," he whispered through clenched teeth. Both his arms circled around your middle in order to keep you steady, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin. You twisted your neck, seeking out his mouth so you could swallow down those words and have them echo like the beat of a drum inside you.

Your lips crashed together, messily licking and biting at one another while he grunted and growled, hammering into you with everything he had. The tip of his cock reached a spot deep within you that forced all the air from your lungs just to be followed by a sharp gasp. It was making you lightheaded, the persistent pattern - grunt, thrust, gasp, grunt, thrust, gasp - and then his hand traveled lower.

"Oh!" you cried out, your fingers slipping through the thick hair on the back of his head and body slumping a bit but he kept a firm hold around your ribs, still pressing you against his front while his fingers rubbed fast, precise circles over your clit.

Your thighs began to shake and your hips sunk lower, unable to keep yourself from giving into the pleasure mounting low in your belly. Your muscles fucking burned from the effort to stay upright, even with his help it was becoming impossible to do.

"Dave," you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as your head came to rest on his shoulder. It was all you could remember to say, Dave, Dave, Dave. Just like he said. And it was perfect because that was all he wanted to hear.

"You're close," he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, fingers working expertly over your clit and hips still snapping tirelessly against your ass. You just nodded, slack jawed, as you focused on your release. So close. So fucking close, you wanted to say, but no words came out.

"Give it to me," he growled, voice sounding like a command. Your eyes flew open and a moment later, you came. You bore down on him, pussy clenching around his thick shaft still slamming inside you, in and out, in and out, while you wailed his name over and over until you grew weak and your muscles threatened to give out.

Dave made a pleased sound before pushing you forward onto the bed. You fell onto your forearms with a huff, still in a rosy haze from your orgasm. One hand gripped your hip, the other your shoulder, and he used you. He fucking used you to get himself off, slamming into you as hard as he liked, chasing his release, puffing and growling above you until he finally stilled and you felt his spend slowly fill you up.

"Fuck!" Dave groaned, gaze pinned to the way he spilled out of you when he pulled out. "Fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered hoarsely, still panting for breath as he continued to watch. You whined and your hips began to drop, so he collapsed next to you and tugged you against him, spooning you with his face pressed into your shoulder and his hands soothingly stroking any part of you he could reach.

"I'll... I'll get you something in a minute," he muttered, chest still heaving as he held you close. You just shook your head and closed your eyes.

"It's okay," you whispered softly.

There was so much you wanted to say, but fear held you back. You wanted to tell him how incredible it was, how you never came that hard before in your life, how amazing you felt now that he finally gave you what you needed.

Once his breathing evened out, he began to nose gently at your back. He trailed up through your hair, pushing it aside until his tongue found the skin on the back of your neck. It felt so good, melting in his arms and sharing in a warm glow while he bit and licked at the back of your neck. It didn't even strike you as an odd thing to do, the pair of you were too deep to recognize it.

With a sigh, you lifted his left hand from your stomach and examined his long fingers, your own slowly tracing his as he continued to mindlessly suck at your neck.

"What's the story here?" you asked bravely, tapping twice on the tan line of his ring finger. "You never really said much."

He grunted into your skin and forced himself to unlatch from your neck.

"Was married," he said simply. "Didn't work out."

You hummed and laced your fingers with his while he watched from over your shoulder. His cock twitched alive against your thigh when you wiggled in his grasp.

"Why?"

He shrugged, lips dragging over your shoulder. If someone had asked him that six months ago, he would have had a much more emotional reaction. Anger mixed with pain, most likely. But you had somehow managed to dwindle it down to a light shrug.

"Don't think it was just one thing," he admitted.

You nodded solemnly, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.

"Does it still hurt to talk about?" you asked him. You wished you knew more but you feared you might burst the perfect little bubble you had found yourselves in.

Dave smiled and, with his free hand, lifted your leg so your ankle rested on the outside of his knee.

"Not anymore," he said right before sinking back inside you.

It was the dreams that finally made you both snap out of the lust filled stupor you were lost in.

Dave had spent the night and entire next day with you, only giving yourselves enough time to eat and rest in between the countless times you found yourself impaled on his cock. It was sometime in the mid afternoon when you had fallen asleep on his chest that you awoke with a start, unable to shaky an eerie feeling.

"Dave?"

His eyes snapped open and found yours, looking slightly rattled, himself.

You breathed a sigh of relief and nuzzled into his bare chest. "I had such a weird dream."

"Me, too," he said, voice thick with sleep. He swiped a palm over his face before stretching both arms above his head. "What was yours about?"

You went on to tell him about the very vivid dream you had about him, although the man in your dreams didn't look like Dave nor did he have the same name, you just somehow knew it was him. With your face heating up, you glazed over the part where you fucked like animals in heat for a week straight and all together left out the end where you had a full blown family together, figuring it would be a bit too much and it would most definitely scare him off. But much to your surprise, he detailed a dream of his own that was so similar, it gave you goosebumps.

"Maybe we need to get out of this apartment for five fucking minutes," you joked, yet still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of familiarity.

After a few moments where you both remained quiet and lost in thought, Dave spoke again.

"There was something else."

You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"I think we had... a family."

Dave closed his eyes as if he too felt like saying it would be too much too fast, but you shot up excitedly in bed.

"We had kids in my dream, too," you confessed, and the both of you stared at one another in shock. "And this isn't the first time, either," you added. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from your mind now as the words came tumbling from your lips. "I had them before we even had our first date."

Dave's eyes went wide and he sat up, as well.

"Shit," he muttered, "me, too. Thought I was crazy."

"Maybe we are," you huffed, still in complete disbelief. Then you remembered what Shannon had said when you poured your heart out to her and your brow furrowed before digging in the sheets for your phone.

"What is it?" he asked as he watched you.

"My friend, the one you met the night we had our date," you said as you busily focused on your phone. "She knows a little about this stuff. She's a little strange but -"

"Let's go talk to her," he said before you even had to ask. You sent your text and looked around your room.

Could you really have known one another in a past life?

You weren't sure how you got there, but in just a few short days you found yourselves standing outside the old Victorian house of Talia Carter, a friend of Shannon's whom she recommended the minute she read your text about your shared dreams.

Talia, or 'Duchess' as she preferred to be called, claimed to be clairvoyant and promised she would be able to do readings on you both to find out if your hunch was right or if you were both just certifiably insane.

Despite all the evidence, you still had your doubts as you climbed the old wooden steps of her porch. Talia swung the door open, her bright red lipstick laid on thick and stretched into a wide smile framed by her very long, straight dark hair. But her smile faded almost instantly once she saw you and she gripped the doorframe for support, alarming you both. She quickly shook her head and refocused her gaze on you both before apologizing and ushering you inside.

You hesitated for a moment and glanced up at Dave.

"My friend Shannon called, I'm -"

"I know, sweetheart," she said as if it were clear as day. "I know exactly who you are."

Dave's hand fell to your lower back and he peered inside her house before determining she wasn't some kind of obvious psycho before nodding to you and taking your hand. Talia bit back a smile and she stepped aside, holding the door open wide for you both.

"If you would like to follow me, I have a study where I do my readings just off the kitchen. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked over her shoulder, leading you past a dark cherry wooden dining room table and matching China cabinet, as well as countless green plants stuck on every flat surface.

"No, thank you," you said, gaze roaming around the room, temporarily stunned by the very unique Elizabethan style she chose. It seemed as though she liked her wallpaper dark and oriental rugs mismatched. The woodwork appeared to be all original, or at least it was made to look that way, and it was all meticulously cared for.

"I prefer to model my home after my own past life," she said when she caught you gawking at the beautiful wainscotting and then the glittery chandelier above her desk.

The two of you sunk down into a soft velvet sofa across from her.

"You remember your past life?" Dave asked, his hand falling to your knee, body curling protectively around you when he crossed a leg and leaned forward. Talia noticed but she didn't say a word. Not yet.

"Yes. I believe Shannon mentioned I preferred to go by Duchess," she explained as she pulled out some tarot cards as well as a few books from the built in bookshelf behind her. "I was the Duchess of Argyll and I still very much connect with that lifestyle, so I have tried to recreate it in my home."

"Well, you've done a beautiful job," you told her honestly. She paused and gave you a sweet smile before opening one of her books and flipping through the pages.

"You are very kind, thank you," she said, "but we are not here to talk about my past life. We are here to talk about yours."

You bit your lip and leaned closer to Dave. Without even looking up, she asked, "Hundreds of years ago, the human race was suffering and on the brink of going extinct. It's believed Mother Nature took over and created ranks among human beings in order to boost the population. Have you ever heard of Alphas and Omegas?"

You both frowned and shook your heads. When she found the page she wanted, she lit up and turned it around, pushing it across the desk so you could see.

"I could do a reading on you both, but it's simply not necessary," she said. You were about to lean forward to look at the page when you froze.

"Why?"

She grinned and sat back in her chair, looking at the two of you like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"I sensed it the moment I saw you. You were mates in a prior life," she replied. She pointed to Dave's hand on your knee. "You're very protective of her, yes?"

Dave shrugged and scooted closer to the edge of the sofa. "That isn't unusual."

"No, you're right," she said, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her desk, lacing her fingers together. "But tell me, do you have any noticeable scars? Maybe ones you have trouble remembering how they came to be?"

Your hand immediately came up to rub the back of your neck and Dave noticed. Visions of him licking and biting in that very same spot swam in your memories and you glanced up at him once again, watching as he came to the same realization.

"How did you get that?" he asked you softly. Your eyes darted wildly back and forth between his before answering.

"My mom and dad always told me different stories, I'm not - I was never really sure."

Then you recalled how fixated you were on the spot behind his ear the first time you had sex and you lunged forward, brushing his hair out of the way with a gasp.

"Where did -"

"I don't know," he said immediately, the energy in the room shifting as you both stumbled into something inexplicable. "I grew up in an orphanage. No one was ever able to tell me."

Your eyes watered for a moment at the thought of a young Dave growing up scared and all alone, but you forced yourself to put it out of your mind for now. You turned back to Talia, who was watching you both with an unreadable expression.

You told her everything. You told her about your dreams, the extraordinary pull between you, the intensity and passion when you had sex, the hopelessness you felt when you thought he rejected you. And most importantly, the calm and secure feeling whenever he was near.

She gave the book a little nudge and you took it on your lap so the two of you could read, but you were hardly absorbing any of it. The words knot, glands, scent marking, heat, imprinting floated across the page while she spoke, explaining everything she knew. And as crazy as it all sounded, neither of you could deny the signs.

You stayed for over an hour, asking question after question. She explained how your scars were most likely remnants of the scent glands that each of you pierced, which bonded you forever as mates. How the dreams that you both had were memories of your past life and the unbreakable bond you shared was what drew you together. When you mentioned the way your body felt like it was on fire, skin hot to the touch, she explained in more detail about heats and ruts and how it was your body's response to finding one another.

When you finally stood to leave, exhausted and unable to think of another question, she refused to take Dave's money. When he tried to insist, she held up her hands and shook her head firmly.

"You have no idea how rare this is for someone like me. Meeting the two of you is an experience I will never forget."

She even let you take home the book you had still open on your lap, your minds racing as you tried to keep up with the whirlwind of information thrown at you.

When she walked you to the door, the sun dipping low in the sky already, she placed a hand on each one of your shoulders and looked at you both intently.

"Promise me you will not squander this gift," she said. "You have no idea how unusual it is for mates to find one another again. The odds are astronomical and yet here you are, reunited by a twist of fate."

You had no idea what to say. You looked up at Dave sheepishly and he smiled warmly at you before saying, "We promise."

Once back in his car, silence surrounding you even though your minds were buzzing with activity, he reached for your hand.

"Do you believe her?" he asked. You bit the inside of your cheek and stared straight ahead down her long driveway before slowly nodding and turning to face him.

"I think I do."

A big grin stretched across his face and he brought the back of your hand up to his lips. "I think I do, too."

You giggled and ran your fingers through your hair, a rush of adrenaline burning through your veins.

"Now what?" you asked him, letting him drop your hand so he could shift his car into drive.

But before he pressed on the gas, he gave you one final look and said, "I don't know, but whatever it is, we'll do it together."

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Smile in the Dark- Alastor x Reader

Alastor x Fem!Reader

Plot: Alastor has never been in a true relationship with anyone, let alone the new and pretty hotel maid. But soon enough he finds he can’t wait to get his hands on you— and play a game of hide-and-seek while you’re at it.

Warnings: Smut, p in v, creampie, MDNI, slight fingering, cursing, fluff, possessive/controlling Alastor. Read at your own risk.

Alastor grinned at you from the doorway. He had asked you to come to his room that night, giving no clue as to what the invitation was for.

The two of you had known each other for months now. Ever since you had started working as a maid at the Hazbin Hotel, you had caught him staring at you once, then twice, then again. 

You remembered Vaggie’s words quite clearly—“Oh, don’t worry about Alastor. He’s just being a creepy ass as usual.” But somehow, the words didn’t quite catch. You found his demeanor charming, even intriguing. Always a gentleman— holding the door open for you, or complimenting your work. But always with an air of mystery, like an unsolved riddle. There was more to the sinner than met the eye.

Over time, you found yourself liking him more and more. After repeated interactions, you had finally asked him on a date. 

He was rather reluctant at first— the deer demon was not known for being the romantic type. But out of courtesy or an unexpected soft spot for you, you didn’t know, he had been sweet the entire time. Now you were, unofficially, dating.

“Good evening, my darling,” Alastor greeted you as you walked up to him.

“Evening, Alastor. Why did you call me here?” you asked. Alastor only chuckled.

“You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?” Without another word he steered you into the room, hand gripping your shoulder firmly. 

The dark red and black atmosphere immediately enveloped you, the carved deer on the bedposts glared down at you through the dim glow. 

It didn’t intimidate you, though. It only reminded you of Alastor, who you were comfortable with already.

Suddenly, the lights were switched off, leaving you in complete darkness. “Alastor…?” you said, a bit uncertainly.

“Afraid of the dark, are we, now? I only want to play a little game,” Alastor leered from the darkness. You could just make out his sinister glowing grin in front of you.

Without warning, you were whisked onto the bed, legs already being spread on the mattress. You tried to gasp out something, but a finger was placed over your mouth.

“Trust me, dear. It will be more fun this way.” You felt yourself getting wet at these words. Turns out Alastor was more than just a gentleman— he was a lustful one. Your clothes disappeared in a snap, and a pair of lips were locked on your neck, sucking down on your delicate skin. Alastor’s hand made repetitive circles on your clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation, head tilting back.

Completely helpless in the dark, all you could do was anticipate what the radio demon would do next. His finger dipped inside, curling expertly and grazing your g-spot.

“Al-“ you gasped.

“Sh— quiet down and be a good little slut for me, shall we?” You obliged, little sounds escaping your mouth as his motions increased in intensity. You clutched at his chest, wishing you could see his face. As if he could read your mind, he sneered at you.

“If you want to see me, you have to be a good girl first.” You nodded, wanting nothing more than to do what he asked. You guessed a maid shouldn’t be doing this, but right now you didn’t care.

You heard the sound of him coating his shaft in your wetness, preparing himself to enter you. Little by little, he stretched you out, walls already clenching around him as you felt him digging deeper. And then he was pounding into you, tearing you up at such a merciless pace that you couldn’t help but moan out his name. 

“F-fuck, Alastor!” you whined, wanting more, more, more. He allowed you a glimpse of him as he fucked you, a flash lighting up his face and illuminating his full, magnificent features.

“So perfect for me,” he seethed. “Letting me destroy you like the little slut you are.” He grabbed your waist as he thrusted harder still, ripping an orgasm out of you that you could only describe as pure bliss.

You came on his dick, getting such a rise out of him that he could make you cum even while you couldn’t see him.

He relented enough to release inside of you, his seed filing you to the brim while his cock twitched inside of you. He pulled out slowly, your liquids dripping out of you like a perfect potion.

He lay his head on your chest, breathing raggedly. You soaked in his smell as you lay with your hair tangled, comforted by his warmth.

He kissed your lips. “We certainly must do this more often.”

“Yes,” you replied. “And… with the lights off.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed my little game.”

“I did.” A pause. “Good night, Alastor.”

“Good night, my precious.”

[prodbyton]

જ⁀➴ dirty little secret chapter 7: bye baby

half smau, half written. wc. under 1k warnings: kissing

even after you and anton wanted more from each other physically after that night in his apartment, your schedules never aligned properly for you two to actually do anything. it left you both hot and bothered, sneaking off during the day to make out and grope each other before you had to part for the day.

like now, you were antons lap in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of your apartment, hands buried in his hair and his hands groping your ass as you two kiss each other like you'll never see each other again.

"yn-" anton breathes out in between your kisses, and you hum before going back to kissing him. "i have to go," his warning words make you stop, frowning against his lips before you pull away with a pout. you were just so cute, he felt bad knowing he had to leave you.

"you cant miss one practice?" you whine, pouting even more.

"im the captain," he almost laughs, if he could he would totally skip a practice to spend more time with you, but his roll was too important and you both knew that.

"don't you have a co captain?"

"yn..." you sigh, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and you understand that he has to go. you climb off of his lap, sitting on the other side of his backseat while you think of another way for you both to see each other.

"what about after practice then? i can sneak you in, i don't think my brother would mind you coming over" you hope that it convinces him, but the way his ears turn red after you say it makes you frown.

he wishes that your brother was one of his biggest obstacles in having you fully, it was too much of a risk for you to sneak him in, it was honestly a risk with him dropping you off at the apartment you shared with him, but he tried his best to not let that flood his nerves.

"i want you just as bad, but i wanna take you out first before we do anything" anton groans, running a hand through his hair. you cant help the smile that creeps on your face, the way he held himself back until you two were actually dating before you two went further made you grow more fond of the boy. but you cant deny that it also made you want him more.

"such a gentleman, and when is this date you speak of?"

"how about friday night? i have early practice, and i can pick you up after" you have to hold back a giggle from how cute he was with that hopeful smile on his face, and you pretend to think for a second before you finally answer him.

"i think i can clear out my schedule for that,"

"great," he leans over the empty space between you two so he can place a quick kiss to your lips "now i really have to go, okay?"

"fine," you roll your eyes, doing your fake pout once again as anton gets out of the car so he can open your door for you. once you're out of the car, you let anton engulf you in a tight hug. "you'll call me when you get home, right?" you murmur into his chest, and he presses his lips to your forehead while you two enjoy your last few minutes together for the day.

"of course, i'll call you baby"

"baby?" you pull back from him, blinking in surprise at the new name as you look up at him. he just smiles, a little nervous as he tries to gauge your reaction.

"do you like it?" you nod, bringing your hands up to the back of antons neck so you can pull him in for another kiss. it was softer, holding him close to you before you pull away, and you smirk when you hear him fail at holding back a whimper at the loss of contact.

"mhm, now go, don't be late for practice baby" you smile as you walk away, letting your hand drag along his chest as you leave and all anton can do is stare at you as you enter your building. it took everything in him to not forget about practice and go after you in that moment.

m.list | prev | next

a/n: bro tumblr actually stupid asf i had to rewrite half of this cuz it deleted my mf draft...

synopsis: living with your older brother had its perks, including easy access to his hot best friend

taglist is closed !!

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[whimsiwitchy]

cyg part six teaser...

hi everyone. I appreciate you all for being so patient with me as I work through my mess lol. here's a tiny teaser for the opening of part six to hold you over. part six will be out this weekend! enjoy <3

*spoilers below*

Waking up in Hugh’s arms was heaven. He was still asleep when you first opened your eyes, his soft snores tickling your ear. You were grateful that he didn’t have those loud old man snores like some of your past lovers had, though you were sure you wouldn’t mind if he did. Gently lifting the arm that was wrapped around your waist, you carefully rolled over to face him. As you studied his resting face, you felt overcome with a deep sentiment of gratitude. He was just as handsome asleep as he was awake. The face that almost always carried a smile was at peace, lips slightly ajar. You adored his face, the deep lines showing a life of joy and laughter. Each nook and cranny aging him beautifully over the years. It made you sad in a way. You wished you could have experienced life with him, wanting nothing more than to have the ‘right’ life with him. A life where your relationship with Hugh made sense and was accepted- but you would gladly take whatever time you could get with him. 

You placed your hand on his cheek, sliding your fingers delicately over the course hairs that covered his jaw. Your chest felt warm. The feelings you had for the man who slept so deeply before you had grown stronger than you’d anticipated, but Hugh made it so easy to fall for him. And you had fallen for him, you knew that now. If one thing for certain came out of this time you’d spent with Hugh, it was that you were unbelievably in love with him. You had always found yourself falling too fast for the wrong people but you had good faith that for once it would be right. For once, you wouldn’t get hurt. You trusted him to protect your heart and to do right by you. You knew he would. 

As much as you wanted to stay and count every wrinkle that laid upon his face, you had to pee really bad. You gave him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and wiggled slowly out of his grip. You gave him one last look over before heading down the hall to the bathroom. As you sat there, memories of the night before danced around your mind. The way he kissed you, touched you. He made you feel like you were worth something. It was a feeling you weren’t used to, always feeling used by other men and deep down you know that all you were to them was just some young girl to fuck. You never actually meant anything to them. Hugh was different. Being with him felt right. You couldn’t find any other words to describe the feeling. He hadn’t brought you here to have sex,  for once it was you who had made that decision. He bought you flowers and a cake to congratulate you on an achievement that no one else cared to celebrate with you. He cared for you in some capacity and it made you feel horrible, because even with all this confirmation, you still had doubts.

[d4minnie]

Hey... I loved your fics so much... can you please write a story where Gojo and reader(female reader) are married but geto Noncons her when Gojo wasn't at home and when Gojo come back to home and saw those.... Geto made Gojo believe that the reader made him do that but actually she didn't she loves Gojo not Geto...but Geto told Gojo that.... ( Pls give it a interesting ending)💖

Pairing: Geto suguru x Afab!Reader

Warnings: Non con

wc: 1,661

MINORS DNI

i'm reallyyyy sorry I didn't know how to give it an interesting ending so I gave it a normal one

“See you later, babe.” You leaned in to kiss Satoru goodbye as he stepped out the door, a familiar sense of longing settling in your chest as you watched him walk away. His boss had been relentless lately, piling on projects and late nights, leaving little time for the moments you both cherished. With a soft sigh, you turned back to the quiet of your home.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, feeling dimmer without Satoru. You poured yourself a glass of wine, the deep color swirling in the glass, a stark contrast to your mood. After running a warm bath, you sank into the bubbles, letting the water envelop you. You closed your eyes, wishing you could express how much you missed those moments together and how the distance was wearing on you. When you finally emerged from the bath, feeling slightly more relaxed, you glanced at the clock—it was still early. You settled onto the couch with a cozy blanket and a book, but the story barely registered. Eventually, the book slipped from your hands as sleep took over, the quiet of the house wrapping around you.

When you woke later, the sun had dipped low in the sky. “Ugh, Satoru still isn’t home,” you grumbled. Just then, the doorbell rang. “Coming!” you called, hoping it was him. But when you opened the door, your heart sank at the sight of your husband’s friend, Keto—wait, no, it must be Geto.

“Not who you were expecting?” he chuckled.

“Yeah, Satoru’s not home, but I’ll let him know you stopped by,” you replied, trying to close the door. He wedged his foot in the way, stopping you.

“I’m not here for Satoru,” he said, barging in and grabbing hold of you, prompting a startled yelp from your lips.

"W-what the hell! Let me go!" you shouted, hitting his back as he dragged you toward you and Satoru’s room.

He threw you onto the bed and began tearing off all of your clothes. Panicking, you tried to crawl away, but all it did was seem to tempt him further. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you towards the edge of the bed.

“Stop,” you said, “please i'm begging you—“

“—keep begging me,” he encouraged, spitting over his tip to lubricate his entry into your cunt.

He gasped as he felt himself slip inside, feeling your soft walls take his shape. “P-please what about Satoru?” you pleaded, adding more desperation into your tone. However, Geto had planned too long to stop now. He pushed himself deeper inside you, thriving at how your pussy clenched around his member. You felt so good around him as if you were made just for him. He started rutting even faster into your cunt at an inhumane pace.

His eyes were hazy, and his jaw hung slightly open—his expression almost feverish yet stunning, the moonlight glistening against his features. His fingers started rubbing onto your cunt while the his other hand pinned the both of your legs. You pushed at him, but the position he had you locked in disallowed you to do a single thing trapping you beneath him. He continued pounding into you, his hands roaming around your body making sure he didn't miss a spot.

Admist his pussydrunk haze he hadn't realised you raising your hand and before it was too late you scratched his forehead trying even harder to get him off you. He grinned and as though something primal beneath him had freshly awoken, his movement against your sore cunt became rougher, harder, almost violent as his own pleasure quickly built to an almost dizzying state.With an almost breathless grunt, still pounding into you, his tone of voice became aggressively possessive "M- mine ah Not Satoru s- shit" he rammed himself even harder against you with more determination before both your release finally closing in at long, long last.

He pulled out, leaving you passed out on the bed, and stepped into the shared bathroom for a shower. He hadn’t even heard the footsteps approaching the house, but that didn’t matter—he had a plan in mind. After finishing his shower and slipping into Satoru’s clothes just because he felt like it, he walked into the living room and spotted Satoru.

“Oh my god,” Satoru sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I thought something happened with the bedroom door locked and the front door wide open. I was worried.”

“Hmm, Satoru, I need to tell you something, but we should sit down for this,” Geto said, adopting a serious tone. Satoru raised an eyebrow, confusion flickering across his face, but he followed Geto to the couch anyway.

Once seated, Geto took a deep breath, feigning a solemn expression. “I don’t know how to say this, but your wife called me over. We both got a little drunk, and one thing led to another. She kept coming on to me, even after I told her it was wrong. It was like she wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal, trying to mask the thrill of the lie.

A wave of hurt and disbelief washed over Satoru’s face—this was the last thing he expected to hear. “Huh? What? What are you talking about?!” he yelled, standing up, his voice rising in pitch.

“I’m sorry, man, but she wouldn’t leave me alone,” Geto replied, forcing a faux-sheepish look. “I tried to push her away, but she kept insisting. You know how it can get when drinks are involved.”

Satoru shook his head, disbelief etched in his features. “This can’t be happening. I trust her, I—”

“Look, I didn’t want it to happen either,” Geto interrupted, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. “But you know how she can be. I thought you should know.”

“J- FUCK, just leave. I need a moment to myself,” Satoru grumbled, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His thoughts raced, trying to process what he’d just heard. The air felt heavy, thick with tension and betrayal.

“Sorry,” Geto said, standing up slowly, his facade slipping just a bit. He could see Satoru was crumbling, and the satisfaction of his deception stirred something dark within him. As he walked toward the door, he glanced back one last time. “Just… think about it, okay? I’m here if you need to talk.”

Satoru barely acknowledged him, his gaze lost in thought. The door clicked shut behind Geto, leaving Satoru alone in the heavy silence. His mind spiraled with images of you and Geto, the trust he’d placed in both of you shattered in an instant.

He sank back onto the couch, head in his hands, replaying Geto’s words. Doubt seeped in, mingling with the confusion and hurt. How could this happen? How could the people he trusted most betray him

like this?

[rockermybuddie]

Make up

Tommy x Evan “Buck”

Summary: After a week of avoiding each other after an bad argument Tommy shows up to Evans apartment to make up.

—————

Evan walks into his apartment exhausted after a long two days at work. He kind of wishes he could just fall into Tommys arms and crash but he’s refusing to be the first one to give in after his argument with Tommy, a week ago. Evan is always the first to forgive, this time its Tommys.

This week as been rough on him but he’s managing.

Evan walks into the bathroom and takes a shower to wash away all the dirt and sweat from work. When he gets out he wraps a towel around his waist and walks into the kitchen to start making dinner.

Theres a knock at his door, he furrows his brows trying to think of who that could be. He walks over to the door and looks through the peep hole to see who is there since hes only wearing a towel.

To his surprise its Tommy. Evan opens the door and Tommys eyes immediately drop to Evans stomach that has droplets of condensation it and the towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Tommy? What are you doing here?” Evan asks like hes not excited that his boyfriend is here. “I came here to talk.” Tommy finally says forcing his eyes back up to Evans face. Not that did anything different because his eyes went directly to Evans mouth that he so badly wants to make out with.

Evan steps aside letting Tommy walk into the apartment. He locks the door before going back to the kitchen to get something to eat or maybe to just act casual like hes not waiting for the words “i’m sorry” to come out of Tommys mouth.

Tommy stands on the other side of the table watching Evan move around the kitchen. He hasnt seen him in a week, Tommy didnt think Evan would last a day without seeing him but when Evan never walked back through his door he was kind of shocked but proud that Evan is finally holding his side without folding first.

“So i was thinking about our argument.” Tommy says breaking the silence. “Oh, you did?” Evan says without looking up at Tommy. “Yeah, you are right. I overstepped at Eddies and i’m sorry.” Tommy says. Evan stops what hes doing and looks up and across to Tommy just standing there, hands in his pockets rocking back and forth on his heels to his toes.

“But you were so confident…” Evan began to speak but Tommy cut him off. “Evan will you just accept my apology?” He asks. Tommys standing next to him now. Unsure of how he got next to him so fast.

“Yes.” Evan says as his eyes fall to Tommys lips. He can tell all Tommy wants right now is to kiss him. But he cant lie either hes been craving Tommys touch.

“Good.” Tommys voice was deep his lips connecting to Evans immediately and his tounge making its way into his not too long after.

Evan moves his hands to the bottom seam of Tommys shirt as he begins to pull it up over his head, only breaking their kiss so the shirt could come off.

Their lips crash against each again as Tommy pushes Evan back against the counter. The cold surface on his back sending shivers up his spine.

Tommy pulls off Evans towel revealing his bulging dripping cock. “Miss me?” Tommy tease as his hand wraps around it causing a small whimper to escape Evans mouth.

Evan feels Tommys strong chest and hard nipples as Tommy jerks him off. Eventually Tommy pants come off and he’s dripping with cum already.

He flips Evan around and bends him over on the counter, he grabs the lube from the drawer. He doesn’t know why Evan has this in his kitchen but it doesn’t matter right now.

Tommy lubes himself up and puts some on his fingers. He shoves his fingers inside Evan as he grabs the edge of the counter.

Tommy pulls out his fingers and slaps Evans bare ass before shoving himself into him. He couldn’t wait any longer, hes been craving this for a week.

Tommys hand cover Evans mouth when he lets out a loud scream. “Shhhh its midnight people are sleeping.” Tommy grunts out. Since they are at Evans apartment and not Tommys house they need to be quiet. Evan isn’t really good at that when it comes to this.

“Touch me.” Evan begs putting his forehead to the cold counter top. Tommys hand wraps around the base of his cock and makes its way to the head as he takes in Tommy from behind.

Moments later they both finish leaving a sticky slimy mess in Tommys hand and down Evans back. Tommy grabs the towel from Evans shower and wipes him off before washing his hands in the sink.

Tommy turns around and sees a more exhausted Evan then the one he saw when he arrived. “Come on lets go to bed.” Tommy scoops up Evan with ease and carrys him up the stairs to the bed.

Evan was more than happy to be carried, he didnt think he would be able to walk anyways, he could barley stand. The only thing holding him up was the counter.

Tommy laid Evan down on the bed, didnt bother putting clothes on him that would be too much work. He crawled in bed next to him spooning him as he felt Evan drift off asleep. He placed a gentle kiss to the back of his head even though it was a bit damp from the sweat.

Everything is how it should be now.

———

A/n: This was my first i guess smutty fanfic i’ve ever posted so forgive me if it was cringey, im not good at smut lol. I’m reading more fanfics for inspiration and to learn how to be a better writer.

[nocturnesanomaly]

Chapter 7: Keep watching the skies

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 7: Keep watching the skies

Wordcount: 6.4k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Grooming, Implied sexual assault/rape, non-consensual drug use,

Description: You follow up on your own lead, convinced it's the only way, leading the rest of the 141 on a hunt to find you.

A/N: Not sure I got all the typos, let me know if you find any <3

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If Price was ever going to grant any of their wishes, Johnny prayed to the lord that it would be to get better beds. Even if he and the taskforce had slept in worse places than this, on the ground in half fallen buildings, in bundles of hay or random items, it didn't keep Johnny from being grumpy about the lack of space and stiff mattresses.

He wasn't sure why Laswell hadn't accounted for the one missing bed. Sometimes he thought that she expected one of them to take the janky couch, but she couldn't really, could she? It was what Simon did most nights, or at least Johnny was pretty sure he did. He typically didn't come into the room during nights, letting Johnny snore away on the little space there already was. Then again, that man never truly slept much on missions.

Simon got the optimal amount of sleep he needed to function for a day, and not a second longer. It was a habit that was hard to coax him out of when he and Johnny went back home. When they had first bought an apartment together, it even took a few weeks before Johnny managed to get Simon into a somewhat normal sleep rhythm.

One thing he found that worked, was letting Simon listen to his heartbeat. It seemed to calm the man for whatever reason. Johnny supposed he understood, it was something consistent, a lifeline in the most literal sense. It assured someone that the other was still alive, that their heart was still beating and their lungs still breathing.

They had both spend a lot of long nights like that. Nights after missions with too close calls, nights fuelled with terrors and horrid images on their minds, nights where it was as simple as the fact that one of them couldn't fall asleep.

Johnny didn't know when Simon had moved from the couch to laying on top of him and squeezing half the air out of his lungs, but he was sure woken up by it. The first rays of the morning sun peeked through the blinds of the window, and highlighted the dust particles floating around in the room.

Simon was a steady weight on top of him. His breathing the only thing inconsistent from his otherwise still form. He reached out, smoothing his hands over the muscles of Simon's back, feeling him sigh further into his hold.

He was still awake then.

"Mornin' wee lad," Johnny whispered teasingly into Simon's ear, conveniently placed right next to him from how he was hiding his face in his neck.

Simon grumbled something unintelligible against Johnny's skin. "Shut it MacTavish..." was about the only thing he could make out of it. It was enough to incite a round of his personal infectious laughter.

The sheets were jumbled between both of their legs, creating an odd display of tangled limbs probably resembling some deformed eldritch horror from an outsider’s perspective.

"Didn't think ye would actually join me...thought ye didn't want affection when spider's around," Johnny mumbles cheekily yet still pulls the massive man even closer. He closes his eyes again, enjoying the weight on his chest, the comforting assurance he'd been craving for all too long.

"They're not here..."

Groggily, Johnny opens his eyes again to catch a peek of the other bed. Surely enough there was no form occupying it, the bed made with military precision. "Mh...got an early start then..." a way too early start even for his own standard.

"They barely sleep..." Simon grumbles and let's out a long huff, resigning to the fact he isn't falling back asleep anytime soon.

"Ye alright love...?" Johnny reaches up to rub his hand through Simon's short hair. A rare occasion for him to take off his mask, even here. Johnny would enjoy every second of it. With gentle movements he guides Simon's head a bit further up so he can place soft kisses to his face. Over his scars, his nose, his cheeks, his lips.

Simon let's out a sigh, lazily kissing him back. "M'fine...jus' exhausted," he did sound it.

Johnny nods quietly, pressing another kiss to his forehead. It had been a long time since they'd taken time just for themselves, their apartment was practically just sitting back collecting dust from how little they managed to actually use it.

"We should take a vacation when we're done here," Johnny suggests.

Simon doesn't get any time to reply before the door is thrown open. Johnny shoots an arm over his shoulders, to shield his face with his arm just in case. The both of them relax seeing Kyle's face linger in the doorway, he looked around the room settling on the two in a pile with a sigh.

"Would you two lovebirds get a move on," Kyle huffs and crosses his arms.

Johnny groans dramatically, making a show of how exhausting Kyle's request really is. "You could always just join us Garrick," he suggests instead, wiggling his eyebrows long enough to make both men groan.

"I'm good," Kyle shakes his head but can hardly hide the smile on his face, "any of you seen Spider? We can't find 'em."

"The fuck do ye mean ye can't find 'em, they can't have gotten that far out," Johnny paces around in the kitchen. His usual energy spiking at the odd occurrence of an unpredictable event. The facts were staring him the face. You were nowhere in the house, nowhere around the house, told nobody and left no note. You were just gone.

You wouldn't just have run away, would you?

He looks over at Simon. He'd put his mask back on, his eyes closed behind it. He still seemed half asleep, nursing a cup of hot tea in his hands.

"They could have gone to town, taking a look around and forgot to tell anyone?" Kyle throws one option on the table. He'd prepared breakfast for himself, sitting opposite of Simon munching down on it.

"We need tae go find them," Johnny says and rubs his nose. There's something uneasy settling in his system, not knowing where you are, what you were up to. He was sure you were capable, that you knew what you were doing, but you had told no one. Even if you were fine, there had to be some stern talk to make sure you wouldn't pull a stunt like this again. Not even Price was liking this at all.

And speaking of Price. Johnny's attention sharpens when the captain comes back into the kitchen. "Laswell heard nothing either, but she mentioned they talked of the mountains" Price shakes his head lightly. "They likely went for them, but we have the town to look into as well."

"We'll split up, cover more ground, they are likely fine on their own but I’d like to have a talk with them so bring them back. Ghost, Soap you take the surrounding area, follow the trail towards the foot of the mountains. Me and Gaz will take a visit to the town, sniff around and see what else we can figure out about this community."

Simon is already on the move, abandoning his still steaming tea at the table. Johnny is hot on his heels, refusing to let him go and make some stupid choice in the heat of it. He still didn't fully understand it. The lingering connection between the two of you, but he knew that it was important. He wasn't going to let him down.

"Listen up My Angel, this is one our newest members. My very own brother, Graham," The Father introduces you to the buffer man standing in front of you. He's taller than him, keeps a short buzzcut you've come to expect from anybody here. It didn't take long before it was enforced on both the men and women, didn't matter what anybody said to it.

The collective has grown significantly and fast. Michael even insisted on being called The Father. You didn't quite understand why. He never explained himself, merely enforced it like he enforced the haircuts. You guessed it was to keep a resemblance between him and God, but you found it more creepy than holy.

His connections expanded a lot more over a very short time. People from far and wide was informed about what you all did here, and they travelled all the way to join you. It was a great feeling. You quickly received a lot more responsibilities for the younger sheep, but you found a lot of the exercises were more cathartic than anything.

"It's good to meet you," Graham speaks your name with a cold indifference. He wasn't very interested in anything that wasn't his brother. He crossed his arms over his chest, looked expectantly at The Father.

You're distracted. That much is obvious to both men on either side of you. Despite doing your best to keep your focus, you keep drifting towards different thoughts. Your gaze continuously looking towards the gate where the mail picked up from town would usually come through.

It's been several weeks, almost two months.

Simon still hasn't answered you.

You felt The Fathers hand gently push against your back, guiding you forward. "Graham trains more unorthodox K9's," he explains while making sure to place you between the both of them, "he specialized in dogs and wolves before he transferred here."

"Don't oversell it Michael," Graham grumbles. He looks off to the side, observing the newer recruits running drills around a makeshift obstacle course.

The Father clears his throat. In all the time you've known him, you've never seen him even close to nervous. "Point remaining...he's going to...train you...afterwards you're going to help him train up the rest," he sounds as if he isn't sure. The final details not yet decided.

Your eyebrows furrow at that. You already have the formal training; you're learning rapidly from shadowing The Father and you don't think you're doing half bad. Still, you needed more training? What else did you have to learn?

"Don't worry your pretty head angel," his hand finds a firm grip on the back on your neck, "just be good, follow orders and everything will turn out just fine."

"Good, again."

Your head was spinning from the pain. He'd had you going for hours at a time, didn't let you stop till you lost consciousness. Your thighs ached, your heart pounding out of your chest. The objective was simple. Shoot the targets he'd set up.

You'd finally completed a full round, and Graham's expression hadn't even changed a bit. He didn't care.

It's not like he was making it any easier on you. Whatever medicine he'd shot into your blood at the start was starting to make your head throb. You could still see the broken glass of the syringe laying amidst the sand and dirt. It glinted in the lowering sunlight.

The wooden targets were starting to get this bad habit of taking form, of looking more and more like moving people. People with angry faces, people with hurtful words, people with guns and ill intent. Around them the shadows crept, licking up against the figures and swallowing them hole. You weren't given much time to question as you were flung through the obstacle course another time.

In the beginning he put on a song on a speaker. An older one, slow and rather beautiful, a love song you think.

It's been on loop ever since. He seems obsessed with it, humming along with the tune for the hundred time as you run through the course. You hit your targets with a shake in your arm, making you miss a few a couple of times. It staggers your progress, and it's like you can feel his displeased look in the back of your neck.

You keep going, shooting at the shadowy figures that remain stationary. He's not saying anything you don't think, but still, you can hear his comments in your ears.

Do better

You're better than this

Wrong

Follow my orders

You miss the last target, by a stroke of bad luck. The ground comes closer all too rapidly when your body decides to give out. It refused to remain standing, to continue the strain that could no longer be received properly.

You heave for air, your grip on the gun all too lose. It falls to the ground and you just manage to push it out of the way before you collapse all the way onto your back. The air is too warm for this, your body already drenched in sweat.

He comes to hover above you.

You don't have time to squirm away.

Graham pulls up your shirt, takes his knife and adds another cut next to the other five. Your scream falls on deaf ears. He was ruthless in his violence. He knew exactly where to cut, knew exactly how deep to make it so you'd lose blood without dying. He timed the seconds in your blood loss, he kept an obsessive eye on your movements, your expressions, until he knew your tells better than you did.

He was lethally precise.

Graham hauls you back up to your feet, shoving the gun back in your hand and turns you back to the obstacle course.

"Cull the herd."

Somewhere along the way, the vials became less mandatory. Mr. Graham stopped forcing them on you one random night. It should've relieved you, no longer being woken up before you normally did with violent movements and a syringe pressed into your skin, but the abrupt change dysregulates you.

You still didn't sleep easy, expecting to be unnaturally woken up by either Mr. Graham or The Father with whatever they had decided they needed from you. Not having the altering substance in your system started feeling weird. You began to crave it again, the precision you had with it, the strength and clearness in your mind. You missed how clearly your targets would be highlighted for you.

So, you started injecting it on your own.

Mr. Graham never objected to it. He supplied you whenever you were low with nothing more than a knowing smile and a strong hand on your shoulder. Whether he ever regretted it, he never told you, but he did notice the change in your mental state. The rapid decline like falling down a ladder, you'd grab unto it, try to save yourself, only for it throw you off once again.

At first, he didn't mind it, even gave you an extra length of patience whenever you'd start to space out outside of fighting, or when you'd take longer to process his words when things were too calm for you.

But then you started to get snappy, too eager for the fight your body ached for.

You hadn't even realized it was the wrong thing before you had done it. Maybe the day had been too long, maybe you were overworked, too tired. It didn't matter, it was you that fired the shot. You had taken the injection earlier than usual, double the dose so it would last until training.

As always, Mr. Graham had met you on the field but he wasn't alone this time. The Father, being ever so gracious, decided to observe you both this time. You had stood dutifully next to Mr. Graham, your head bowed, posture straight, your mind a strange mix of muddy and sharp. Shadows crept at the corner of your vision, making you twitch.

You felt unsteady. Your trigger finger twitching with an odd need to hunt, to expel the uncomfortable energy swirling in you, an energy that needed to be used. All the excess adrenaline seemed to even be noticed by The Father.

"Are you alright, My Angel?"

Mr. Graham gives you a look that's hard to discern. Like he's trying to figure out where on the scale you are from collapsing and going rabid. He gets his answer in the worst way he'd have wanted it.

Something too real moves in your vision, rounding the corner of a building. A small shadowed figure, too stark in the contrast of the white wall. It smiled cruelly, moved erratically and it triggered every sensor in your brain. You act without thinking.

A loud squeaking sound comes from the creature. It collapses to the ground like a dying animal. The shadows slink away revealing the silhouette of a dog, laying gasping on the ground, whimpering and clinging to the life you took from it.

None of them react at first.

Three pairs of eyes watching the life drain. One shocked, one calm, one furious.

You don't even hear the angry words coming out of Mr. Graham's mouth. Your world is spinning, your head is buzzing and you still haven't quite recognized what you had just done. Which of them you had just killed.

He grabs your arm, drags you along to no protest from The Father. You don't remember the way, or where he took you. You only remember the pain of being thrown into the dark room of stone walls. There's no window, no light, and nobody else.

"I'll come get you once you've learned to calm the fuck down."

Those words are all he leaves you with before closing the door. Your breathing is unsteady when you lean against the cold wall and slowly lower yourself to the ground. It's unnerving. You know they're there. They're always there. Watching you, taunting you, baiting you into doing something.

They didn't make noise before; they didn't talk before but now in the darkness they still feel the need to make their presence known.

Calm down calm down calm down

You don't know whether it's you or something else that keeps repeating it. Your heart rate elevates, your body starts to shake. You try to scream out for help but your lips don't move. You don't even hear the little whimpers coming from your throat.

They creep around in the dark. They inch closer. They caress your skin. They fester inside your head.

Spider?

You freeze up in your corner at the familiar voice inside your mind. You don't want to look because you know who you'll see.

"No no no no no no."

Your hands clutch around your head, pulling at your hair.

"Go away!"

I brought food

"No go away! Please! Don't- don't do this."

Go on, I could hear your growling stomach from the gate

"Please!"

I made it

"You're not- you're- not- not-"

Did you hurt yourself?

"Leave me alone! You're not real!"

Whenever you're ready, little Spider

The snow has a blinding purity that's always mesmerized you. It stains so easily, the slightest touch disturbs the perfectly laid coat, creating chaos in the pillows of comfort and sanity. You'd spent most of the morning, most of the day, trekking through that purity and soiling it with the dirt underneath your boots.

There had always been a specific kind of thrill in your chest when you defied orders directly given. A small part of you taken back in your own hands, for better or for worse. You used to thrive so well under watch and order. Even if that's not the case anymore, you'd really ought to listen to the words of your betters.

At least then maybe you wouldn't be here. Standing as still as a statue, having a staring contest with a wolf and its red eyes. They're terribly vibrant. Reminiscent of the blood you could spill now.

Your hand clutched around your gun, ready to move at the order of a split-second decision. You're not here to hunt, you have to remind yourself. Never mind the wolf, never mind your thoughts. It doesn't matter that you used to hunt with them, that they used to sniff out your target for you.

It doesn't matter It doesn't matter It doesn't matter It doesn't matter it does-

The thing isn't even full grown. You'd have been more inclined to leave it alone if it wasn't for the bleeding cross running down it's snout. The red mixed with its fur in a beautiful symmetry. It's growling at you, you think. It makes you wonder if this is what your old targets used to feel when the wolves would corner them. Unlikely. They usually kept a face mixed with fear and hopelessness. Runaway members of the collective never lasted long under the knife.

There's a part of you that doesn't dare look away from it. The fatigue in your eyes almost do it for you, the snow around the creature makes it melt into the surroundings. The wolf was too focused, too interested in the way you looked, in the way you smelled.

He's still training them

They were likely right. If Mr. Graham was still alive, still with the collective, he'd be doing what he'd always been doing.

Cull the herd

Be the guide, the cold example

Cull the herd

And if that was the case, it wouldn't only be wolves lurking around out here. You'd need to relay this to Price, or Laswell, without rousing too much suspicion. It was a mere hunch, a feeling in your gut, but one you'd learnt to trust long ago.

You start to slowly move backwards, if you were tactical about it, you could still come out of this unscathed. Something flickers in the corner of your vision. All it takes is a moments distraction and the creature lunges at you.

The gunshot echoes in your ears. Your instincts took over, fired for you, and in a rare moment of luck you actually manage to hit. The wolf falls to the snow, its left eye is half gone and blood oozes out of it. The snow becomes dirty in its blood.

You take a step closer to it, observing the dead creature. The cross is gone. Something else flickers in the corner of your vision, something bigger and a lot faster. Luck doesn't strike twice, favouring others in a moment of misfortune.

Sharp teeth sink into your shin. You cry out, despite the second wolf only managing to hang onto more clothes than skin, it still penetrates. Scalding pain shoots up your leg. A second gunshot sounding out. You're not sure how you managed to hit it properly this close, but the wolf falls to the ground next to its mate.

You sink to the ground next to them, breathing heavily as if you'd run half a marathon. Your brain runs loops around itself trying to understand what had happened, why both of them had attacked like that, and why the bleeding crosses on their heads were no longer there.

Was it a trick from him? A trick of your mind?

It would take a lot for you to even attempt to call yourself sane any longer but this felt out of hand. Despite your own distorted reality, when it came to the cult you could usually rely on the rampant voices in your head. Were you really turning this paranoid?

With groans and sputters, you manage to move yourself around enough to take a look at your leg. It could've been worse; the damage wasn't deep but you wouldn't be making it to the mountains like this. You let out a curse to the heavens. You'd been so close to achieving your goal before somebody came looking for you, and now you'd have to backtrack.

You had the two options, and you knew you had to choose the boring one.

A higher pitched scream in the distance catches your attention, followed along with a loud splash and arguing not that far from you. The snow carried the sound a bit further than normal but it wouldn't be more than a minute’s walk from your location.

And just when you thought you could make your way back with no complications.

You hoist yourself back on your feet, letting out a hiss as your leg protests to the movement with more pain shot up all the way to your thigh. You lean on a nearby tree, perking your ears to listen to the nearby voices.

At first you can't make out what they're saying but...they're familiar.

Simon and Soap.

Your stomach drops.

Price must have sent them out to look for you. Part of you scolds yourself for not leaving some sort of note or message. No matter how elusive. At least then they might not have come out for you. You could've gotten further, if it hadn't been for the sake of those pesky wolves.

You run a hand over your face, the gloves taking some of the fallen snow off your eyebrows. You walk in the direction of their voices, using their argument to steer you in the right direction.

There was safety in numbers now that they were out here. You weren't keen on being mauled over by another pack of wolves.

"For fucks sake Johnny, I told you to watch where you're placing those feet of yours!"

"Not my fault the bloody stones are so slippery in this weather!"

"Bloody hell just get your arse up!"

You peek out between a set of bushes, the thicket giving you enough cover to observe the situation before you approached them. You tilt your head, your eyebrows turning a bit up in surprise at the sight.

Soap, coming out the water from one of the deeper creeks, completely wet.

Your lip twitches, and you feel the urge to bubble up with laughter. You don't know how he fell in, and you don't really need to know to see the entire event as hilarious.

"Bloody river, stupid weather, stupid snow" he grumbles angrily as he tries to dust off the water like it was a simple speck of dirt.

Simon sighs heavily, his entire gear moving along up and down with him. "You need to go back, gonna get hypothermia if you stay out here," he says sternly. There's concern laced in the order, but it's an undeniable order nonetheless.

"No way...am not letting you stay out here alone, Price told us tae look for 'em together," Soap protests.

"Don't need to look much further," you sigh and speak up.

You emerge from the thicket, startling the both of them at the same time. They're drawn guns are trained on you in an instant, and in return your own gun is trained on Soap. Force of habit and all that.

Simon relaxes when he gets a proper look at you. Soap following soon after.

"Good, you're not dead then" he speaks in a relieved manner. Did he really think you'd act that recklessly? Probably.

"You really think I'd let myself get killed over something that idiotic?"

He looks at you for a moment, but not because he needed to give it any thought. No, his eyes aren't displaying a complex need for that, because he knows the answer. He's giving you the chance to take it back, to explain the limp in your walk. You don't.

"No," he says just as sternly in the crass voice of his.

"Ghost is right," you say and turn towards soap and his half assed attempt at squeezing water out of his gear, "we need to get you back home...get you warmed up."

"Aye."

The entirety of the town is already giving Price the creeps. He's seen his fair share of things in his time, the awful, the creepy, the monstrous. But the feeling this town gives him? Unlike most things he's encountered.

There's no hostility, nothing but the purest of hospitality even for mere tourists. There's something wrong with the smiles, their incessant need to accommodate practically anything he asks for.

He opens the door to the car, holding the two coffee cups against his chest. Garrick reaches over, takes them from him when he gets himself comfortable in the front seat. "I think I got your order right...don't kill me if it isn't, got a bit distracted in line," Price grumbles and leans back in his seat.

Garrick takes a sip of his own, then handing back Price's cup to him. "It's just fine cap, thanks" he mumbles and drinks some more. He let's out a satisfied groan and relaxes back into the seat. "Despite how weird this place is, at least they know how to make coffee."

"Hm that we can agree on," Price takes a sip of his. It's not bad, but he's definitely had better. The shop he went to would do better serving tea on the menu as well.

He'd parked the car in one of the open parking lots, not many seemed to come here. Most of the day it remained practically empty except for the few people coming to and from town. They'd spent the last two hours walking through town, posing as the tourists they undeniable were today. They hadn't learnt much, except for the fact the locals remembered faces too well for comfort.

Though it was to be expected, the town wasn't too big.

"Walked by the church..." Price says with a sigh, "struck up conversation with a few of the locals changing up the sign outside."

"Got anything useful out of them?" Garrick asks as if he'd conducted a whole interrogation.

"They've got daily mass...but most people come on Sundays as to be expected," he tells him before taking another sip, "a few of us should attend on Sunday."

Garrick let's out a louder groan, likely already picking up what he's putting down. The man clearly didn't want to, but like anything else they'd do here in this town, it was all work. Just work.

Price takes another long gulp of his coffee. The energy barely ever worked for him these days, the stress getting to his bones. He looks out towards the bustling little market a bit further up the long road. There wasn't many, but most of them would come through the market at least once a day. Garrick had mentioned a few familiar faces he'd spoken to in his other trips to town.

"Captain, do you think they'll...." he goes quiet, hesitating to finish his question.

"They'll find them," Price says assuredly.

"That's not..."

The captain doesn't bother looking at him, gives him a moment to think his question through. "Speak your mind, Garrick," he urges.

"How much do we actually know about them?" he knows why he's asking. Price had his own doubts, his own concerns, when Laswell first presented your file on his desk and insisted this was the only way.

He hadn't fully shed his doubts yet.

"We know enough, sergeant" it's not the answer he wants nor the answer he needs but it's the answer Price has for him. He'd have to do more digging, for the safety of the team, for the prosperity of the mission itself. You were too big a mystery, one where the only thing he could rely on was Laswell's word.

"They've been helpful, they'll continue to be helpful, it'll have to be enough for now." Price adds on shortly after.

 Garrick says nothing in return, simply continues to drink his coffee dissatisfied.

Price starts up the car, intending to have the rest of the way home in silence. And it was, much to his admiration. The sergeant could have a talkative tongue when he got excited about something, he'd think this whole situation would give him a few things to say.

Instead, it leaves him a quiet contemplating mess. Much like the rest of them.

He only ever speaks up in a low grumble when he sees the tip of the house revealing itself in the distance, only to render himself quiet once again.

The silence stretches on until Kyle sees the three figures bickering at the front door. "Isn't that..." he trails out as he realizes they probably don't have the key for the home. He does his best at holding back his laughter. It earns him a side glare from Price.

"Seems like they found 'em."

Price turns the car around and parks it in its usual spot next to the temporary home. "The fuck happened to you?!" Garrick says bemused by the sight of Soap.

Price does raise a questioning brow as he exits the car after Garrick. They were only supposed to go get Spider, why the man was wet as a dog was lost on him.

"Fell in the river..." Soap grumbles.

Garrick fails to hold in his laughter this time around, snorting on the spot. "I know you like water but maybe you should stay away from the literal ice water mate," he claps Soap on the back a few times.

Soap pushes him away annoyed, "agh away n' bile yer heid!"

Price rolls his eyes, pushing past the two to unlock the front door. As soon as it's open, you dart past him to head inside in the warmth with a surprising urgency. He looks to Simon, coming to stand beside him to move inside as well.

"They're fine...mostly fine...we're all fine," he assures him.

He eyes you suspiciously. His boys might've said you were fine, you might've said you were fine to them. Little observation told him that your limping leg wasn't all that fucking fine.

He followed you out back, the rest remaining in the living room to keep MacTavish warm. "Spider, slow it up" he spoke up causing you to freeze in place. He walked with steady steps until he could place himself in front of you.

"Come, I need to talk to you, and we need to take a look at that," he gestures to the leg that has a stained pantleg. He turns back around to walk to his and Garrick's room. He doesn't bother looking back to see if you're following, he has a deep-rooted feeling that you will.

You may be a rulebreaker when you get the confidence, but there's still obedience in you. From where he doesn't understand just yet, but it doesn't take all of his wisdom to gather a lot went down when you were hunting the cult on your own.

He holds the door open for you. Your eyes meet as you make your way inside, there's that stubbornness he's used to seeing in Simon. "Sit," he points to one of the beds pressed into the corner while he closes the door.

You do as he says, your voice stuck in your throat. He rummages through the cabinets, finds the first aid kit he always saved a few of. He didn't even need to tell you to roll up your pantleg, you'd taken the hint way before.

The wounds weren't deep, but whatever you'd been bitten by had been out to be vicious. "You'll need to get a doctor to look at this...lucky for you the town's got a local practice."

You tense up at that, dodge his touch as he tries to keep your leg steady enough to clean. "It's fine..." you say hastily, "It just needs to be cleaned I don't need to see anyone."

"Yes you do and that's an order," Price is stern in his voice.

One thing was to go out of your way to disobey the laid-out deal between the two of you, to run away to look for clues on your own, but this? He wasn't about to let you walk about with an injury that'll make you hurt yourself even more.

You go quiet at that. It's enough for him to grab your calf and put a wet rag against your wound. You flinch but make no sound. Your muscles are tense under his grip and your eyes shut tight.

He allows you the moment of silence, understanding the discomfort of it. He doubted you'd be able to answer anything if he even asked you right now. He cleans off the excess blood, checking the toughness of the teeth punctures. It wasn't as serious as it looked, but you still needed a checkup, he wasn't changing his mind about that.

He removes the rag, and binds the wound. "Did you find anything?" he doesn't look at you as he asks, merely focusing on cleaning up the opened supplies.

"No..." you speak in a low whisper; he wouldn't have heard unless he was this close.

You don't elaborate, and he doesn't find the energy in him to ask.

"Next time you want to go on an adventure like that you take someone with you, or at the very least inform me," he's back to speaking sternly, the voice of a captain that's been carefully crafted over the years in service.

"I can't have rogue soldiers running around, is that understood?" he looks up to catch your eyes.

You hold his stare with an uncomfortable intensity, trying to be as intimidating as he is.

"Yes sir."

He pats your calf, tugging down your pant leg once again. That time you held back your flinch, but it was obvious in your eyes to him. He takes a moment to observe you, trying to dig through your rougher exterior, to see if you were really softer under in it all.

Had you been soft once?

He calls your name in a quiet voice, makes a point to use a softer voice with rounder edges.

"There's parts of your file not even I have access to," he starts slow, careful, then pauses. You're wary of him, more than the others. He chalks it up to his authority over you, the one you can't quite find your place underneath.

"What's haunting you that much...that you won't even let me in on surprise plans...we're all a team here we-"

You rise from your seat with no warning. You're quick to make your way around him, careful to not step on any of the scattered things on the floor. He doesn't stop you nor does he continue what he was about to pry out of you.

He understands in some underhanded way. He'd dealt with Simon a lot longer than he'd dealt with you. There were undeniable similarities yet still something entirely different between the two.

"You'll go to town first thing tomorrow morning, I'll get Ghost to take you" he speaks up from his seat on the floor. You stop somewhere close to the door, listening to his words, his order. You don't answer him, but he knows you heard him, that you'll heed him this once.

You leave the room, closing the door with a care for potential noise.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @chickennn-soupp @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @lilynotdilly @spicyspicyliving @kaoyamamegami @ellabellabunny123 @woodlandgirl22-blog-blog @haipasa

[porcelainseashore]

Coffee & Secrets (3)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

AO3 Link

Chapter 3: Venture

As the days flew by, quickly turning into weeks and the weeks culminating in months, Leon grew busier, taking on additional responsibilities from his colleagues. Just as you had predicted, he was more than qualified and capable of handling his own in the role of a police officer. Despite that, he always found the time to visit your shop, even if it was for a quick coffee break during a night shift. No matter how grueling it was, he would be there. Sometimes, he would even get yelled at by his patrol partner for taking too long, though they were often placated by a free pick-me-up you doled out, which Leon insisted on footing the bill without fail.

One of these nights, he strolled in with Lieutenant Branagh, chatting jovially as they grabbed the usual front row seats.

“How’s my favorite barista doing?” Marvin greeted you, unclasping his arms as he brought you in for a quick hug over the counter.

“Not too shabby, how about you? How’s the girls?”

Leon eyed the two of you curiously; the familiarity with which you interacted with each other catching him slightly off-guard.

“They’re doing great, growing up so fast. My eldest might surpass her old man in a year’s time—just you wait,” he chortled, settling himself in.

“Remember her?” He passed you a recent photo of his daughter from his wallet.

“No way,” you guffawed, feeling the glossy paper nestle itself between your fingers. “She’s changed so much!”

“She’s a fine, young lady now, with a good head over her shoulders,” he responded, his eyes brimming with pride. “Just like yourself.”

“Thanks Marv,” you said, your response heartfelt as you returned the photo to him. “So, the usual?”

Rapping his fingers rhythmically on the table, he confirmed, “The usual.”

“Hey.” It was soft, unassuming, and so unapologetically Leon. 

A subtle smile broke out across his lips as he nodded at you. No hug—maybe it was too soon for hugs and he was not comfortable enough.

“Hey,” you acknowledged, nodding back with a faint smile of your own.

“I wish I could say ‘the usual’, but I don’t have one yet,” he admitted. “By the way, I’m getting this round.” He turned and peered over at Marvin who stood up halfway to protest.

“Naw, come on, put your money away, boy,” the older man commanded.

But Leon was not having any of it. “I insist, Lieutenant.” Holding his hand up before Marvin, he continued, “These few months, you’ve gone out of the way to mentor and support me. It’s the least I could do.”

At this, Marvin raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, then I’ll accept your offer graciously, rookie.”

You saw Leon scoff lightly at the nickname as he turned his attention towards you, his features mellowing. “I’ll take whatever you brew for me tonight,” he decided.

Just as you spun around to complete the order, he murmured, the lilt of his voice carried across by the wind, “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Leon,” you whispered back, noticing the crinkle in his eyes, the way he subconsciously puffed out his chest, and the fleeting glimpse of happiness that washed over his face.

Marvin glanced between the two of you as a knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he said nothing, trusting in the passage of time to make its intentions clear.

When you served their drinks, Marvin slurped his down voraciously. “Ooh, the kick is still there. De-licious!” he exclaimed.

“What’s that?” Leon quizzed.

“Kopi Jahe—coffee and ginger,” Marvin clarified. “It’s Indonesian, if I’m not wrong. Perfect for my lactose-intolerant stomach.” He patted his belly to emphasize his point.

“Whatcha get?” he asked in return.

The younger officer blushed as he looked at you. “Guess I’ll have to taste it to find out.”

As always, he sniffed it before taking a tentative sip from the cup. “Mmm…” His eyes squeezed shut while he focused on the flavors. “Hmm…”

“Mint?” His bright blues greeted you again.

“Coffee, mint and honey,” you affirmed, flourishing it with a name, “Fire and Ice.”

Before he had a chance to respond, the door chime rang, and your eyes darted to your next customer of the night.

Ben. Good ol’ Ben Bertolucci.

“A Triple Espresso, please,” he called out, already striding towards his usual sitting corner, while simultaneously giving the two policemen a long, hard look. 

“Evening, officers,” he said curtly, giving them a sharp nod. They tipped their hats back, paying no mind to his soured mood as they dived into another conversation of their own.

Firing up the coffee machine, you ground the beans into a fine powder and let the pressurized hot water seep through the puck. The richly aromatic smell of a dark roast filled the air as the concentrated, viscous liquid dripped into the awaiting demitasse.

During this intermediary period, you unwittingly eavesdropped on the friendly chat between the officers.

“How do you know her again, Lieutenant?”

“Oh, I’ve been here a good number of times back in the day. Times when I really needed it. Times when all I wanted was a comforting drink and a space to sort out my mess. I happened to stumble across this shop—”

“Me too.”

“Hmpf, guess it’s that kinda place… let’s count ourselves lucky then. Anyway, enough about me. What about you?”

“Uh, what about me, sir?”

“You got any plans for your future, son? Pretty sure you didn’t just end up in Raccoon City with those perfect grades.”

“Oh, um, yeah. I guess. Now that you put it that way, uh, I’ve always wanted to investigate the Arklay Murders.”

“The Arklay Murders, huh? Shooting for the detective route?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, have you ever considered applying for S.T.A.R.S.?”

“Wh-what? Um, no, sir. Didn’t think I would qualify for something like that yet.”

“I’ve seen how you work. You're a fast learner, diligent, and competent. I know talent when I see it. You just need to work on your confidence a little, rookie. Keep this up and you’ll have my letter of recommendation on your desk by next year.”

“Wow, th-thanks, Lieutenant… I’m just not sure—”

“Look, you don’t have to make a decision now. All I’m asking is for you to think about it, alright?”

Reluctantly tearing yourself away from the rest of the discussion, you picked up the demitasse, which seemed to weigh like stone as you trudged over to Ben, setting it down on his makeshift desk. Heaps of documents were strewn across its surface in a haphazard manner as he scribbled furiously on his notepad, circling items in a red marker.

“Oh, hey, thanks,” he mumbled, still absorbed in his writing. “Hope you don’t mind, but it’s gonna be a long night.”

“Not at all, Ben,” you said, frowning at the grainy images of what appeared to be the Chief of Police, Brian Irons, in the background.

When he saw you peeking at his work, he shuffled apprehensively in his seat, attempting to use his arm to block your view. “Sorry, but this is top secret stuff.”

“I understand,” you replied empathetically. “Don’t worry, it’s safe with me.”

He snorted at your remark, but eased up, absentmindedly stroking his beard as he spoke, “Appreciate it. Don’t wanna rub people the wrong way, like those folks over there.” He jutted his chin out in Leon and Marvin’s direction.

“Seems like the RPD has taken a liking to this place,” he added with a hint of disdain.

You shook your head and laughed. “Not all of my customers are police officers, Ben.”

Narrowing his eyes at the two, he piped up, “Just watch yourself, that’s my advice. In my world, they’re pigs—the whole lot of ’em. Probably why the term ‘ACAB’ exists, eh?” He wagged his finger. “Food for thought.”

“You’ve probably seen a lot of abuse in your line of work,” you speculated, figuring that his poor experience with the force had shaped his current opinion.

“No shit,” he huffed before composing himself. “Well, as far as I can tell, Branagh’s… tolerable. Dull, but tolerable. The kid over there though, I don’t trust him, seems a bit green.”

You glanced over at Leon briefly. Almost as if he sensed your presence, his eyes shifted away from Marvin, colliding with yours, and a smile tinged with uncertainty unfolded on his face.

He’ll come into his own, you thought, smiling back reassuringly.

“So…” 

Ben’s gruff voice snapped you out of your reverie as you faced him again, but you didn’t miss a beat. “So, you’re obviously swamped. Ever imagined hiring an intern?”

“Why? Having second thoughts about your business?” he smirked in amusement.

“Nah, just a suggestion,” you replied blithely as you clutched the tray across your chest and tottered back to the counter. “You should put a call out. I’m sure a bunch of people would be interested in the work you do.”

Back at the other table, Marvin rose to leave, slapping Leon’s back encouragingly. “Well, it’s been a pleasure, but if I don’t head home in the next five minutes, I’ll end up on the sofa tonight.”

After you said your goodbyes, Leon leaned against the side of the counter, adjusting the hem of his uniform as he looked between the door and you, seemingly debating whether he should call it a night too. However, he decided otherwise.

“Um, you don’t mind if I stay a little longer, do you?”

“Not at all.” You indicated towards the typically vacant chairs in the room. “Take all the time you need.”

He did not sit down, hanging around you in silence for a few minutes before he said what was on his mind. “Did you always want to be a barista when you grew up?”

That stumped you. It was not very often that you received personal questions or interest in what you were doing. Maybe some even felt bad to ask. You were far more used to listening to people, and not the other way around.

“No, not really,” you answered truthfully. “To be frank, I don’t think I ever knew.”

“So, what made you decide?”

You hummed, tapping your chin as you pondered his question. “It was something I kinda just fell into,” you explained. “I saw an opportunity and took my chance. I guess I’ve always been idealistic and wanting to help people…”

“I’ve always wanted that too…” he chimed in gently as his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours. He jerked his hand away as soon as he realized, as if he had received an electric shock.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he continued, “I became who I am because, when I was young, I saw someone do this very same job. He helped others, ordinary people, including me.”

“The man saved my life,” he stressed, pausing as if recalling a distant memory, before he divulged, “I told everyone, ‘That’s who I want to be when I grow up!’ Helping civilians, doing the little things that change their lives.”

“Now it feels like I’m only getting further away from it,” he sighed despondently. “Solving mystery cases like Scooby-Doo and joining an elite team…”

Your fingertips grazed his knuckles. “Nothing’s stopping you.”

“What?” He looked at you, startled.

“Nothing’s stopping you from helping others, just because you end up doing something else,” you answered plainly.

It took a while for your words to sink in before he could react to them. “You’re— I don’t know how you do it,” he chuckled in disbelief to himself. “You make me want to tell you everything. That’s your superpower.”

“I’m just me,” you shrugged. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And that’s exactly how I like you.”

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[sol-kha-ne-lubri-if]

ros' reaction to mc having a hickey on their neck only to find out it's a mosquito bite later on?

Dear God you've been in inbox purgatory for a long while I'm so sorry, anyways, I'm gonna assume this is where they're crushing on you (not in a relationship) rather than the opposite lmao

AMBROSE ~

They've never been one to allow their siblings to deter them from doing whatever they please, so whyever would they stop now?

Especially when he has such a valid cause to it.

You see, it was your fault— that's what he was telling himself anyway. You just had to arrive in the dining hall with such a— such a blasphemous mark on your neck, proud for all to see, this should count as a slight against Baeurae! Fae knew you got around, that's not what was pissing them off about this whole thing...

It's the fact that you didn't approach them first of all.

Ambrose thought of himself as someone within your circle you could rely on, you know? Someone you— someone who could tell you which creatures were worth your time! You're an absolute beauty, everyone could be made aware of that just by looking at you! So why— why have you not told him a thing of what happened to lay such a— such an offensive thing on your skin?! What messy work it was as well, and how come there was only one? He really knew whoever had done it was a true loser then. If it were him, he would have pulled you in and not let you go until he could taste your—

"Mooooorning, you~" Ambrose hears Dottie chirp and he sits upright with his smile plastered upon his lips as though that was enough to prove to himself that he was perfectly fine with this— all of this. "Someone slept well, I denounce~!"

"If only!" you bemoan as you collapse into the chair and scratch at the mark on your neck. It's here that Ambrose sees just how upset you seemed to be, the way your body tenses so severely, the way your brow knits together, and you bury your nails into your own skin before Ambrose reaches out, making sure fae's hand was seen by you, and he carefully pulls your hand away before you scratch too deep. "My roommate— that dumbass— forgot to lock our godforsaken window the night before and a flupoflim wound up having gotten offensed by whatever dream they may have sensed of me and bit me right in the goddamn neck! I swear, I'm going to..."

"A flupoflim..." Ambrose repeats quietly to himself, biting his tongue to keep his smile from widening even further as he relaxes his hold on you far more, intertwining your fingers and slowly guiding you into his chest, his gloved thumb rubbing circles over the back of your palm as their cheek presses to your hair while you continue rambling about the pest in your room.

A small laugh shakes his chest, his eyes relaxing, half-listening to the way his sister plots with you on how to fume the flupoflims from the academy as he slowly raises your joint hands and drags his fingertips down from your palm to carefully brush against your pulsepoint.

"What a kerfuffle for my poor darling ditzy." Ambrose drawls, bring your wrist close to his face so he could press his lips to it, feeling the way your artificial heart beat inside. "Might I suggest a word of my own as remedy?"

Dottie ~

Dottie walks through the halls with her posse a few steps behind her, an idle smile on her expression as their voices carry through the grand halls, even though she had them step away from her so she could enjoy the peace and quiet to clear her thoughts. In moments as this, she would typically walk with you and your impecc-uliar companion. However, she doesn't know how much she can stand walking within your vicinity without wishing to slice at your neck and watch your good pour out like a fountain.

Maybe if she did that, the abomination on your neck would go away.

It was such a messy fucking job as well, it weren't even even, and you clearly didn't have that good a night if you were walking around with just one on your neck. If it were her, she would have mauled you for all to see! She would have tore at your neck until you'd have to be fixed up with stitches!

But no, apparently you decided you weren't good enough for her and you decided to go for some lowlife who clearly couldn't appreciate your beauty in the way she does—!

"—uite annoying, yeah." she's pulled out of her thoughts when she suddenly hears your voice around the corner, and she pauses, raising a brow as she hears your voice carried through the hall. "Maybe if you hadn't left the damn window open, I wouldn't be walking around with the bite of a flupoflim on my perfect skin! Do you even know just how itchy this fucking—!"

"It's a fly bite, calm down!"

"Of course YOU would be saying that, you're not the one who had gotten bitten by the damn thing— oh, Dottie?"

She had appeared around the corner with her books tucked below her chest and her hair gently blowing in nonexistent wind, before she strolls up to you with the air of majesty you came to know of (and expect) from her presence alone.

"There you are~ I was thinking of relaxing in the bathhouse whilst I set my books aside!" she chirps, stepping up to you and sliding a hand around your waist, pulling you close to her while she brushes her lips against your earlobe.

"Your friend is free to join us as well, if they so please~ In any case, I hear you have a flupoflim problem?"

She smoothly turns you and your companion around, allowing for said flupoflims to swoop in from the windows by her command to clean after the bodies their mistress had left behind, as well as all the ichorous organs that littered the floor.

She'd rather you not see such a distasteful sight~

Loriette Kei ~

"You've something there, I see." their face openly snarls at the sight of the offending mark on your neck, amidst the many other ones you allowed him to leave on you since it was his turn that day.

"I've a little something everywhere, if you couldn't tell." you respond dryly, feeling around your neck. He always mauled you, practically, as if he was trying to prove a point to his older sister and cousins. "You're not exactly the gentlest lover."

"Oh I can be gentle as a feather, you realize?" his strings envelop his body as his form shifts rapidly into a smaller one he was able to hop onto your shoulders with. "You don't give me many a reason to be gentle, is all. You're so... difficult sometimes, and by that, I mean any which time. Whatever you do or see that I may never think to be," their tail brushes against the bottom of your chin before they hop off your shoulder to sit on your lap, shifting back into his doll form to lean forward and pin you against the bed, a bit of their inky-black seeping through the cracks and running down his skin. "Is somehow always something you so readily use against me."

"I'm just looking out for whatever I deem to decree." you respond, your head resting back against the soft sheets of your dorm bed. You didn't often like sleeping in a bed that wasn't your own, after all, your bed was definitely the comfiest in the academy, and you were sure of that. "Now would you please tell me?"

"This," Loriette keeps himself hovered over your body while his strings reach forth to slowly wrap around your neck, the ends tickling against the mark he had seen earlier before they disappear, and his face is streaked with more of the void he kept inside himself.

"Oh, ugh. That." you roll your eyes and tilt your head to the window that allows you to look over sonder at the many bodies below your dorm. "My dormmate, Stesmi pray for them, didn't close the window before sleeping the night before, a flupoflim came and—"

Loriette Kei interrupted you by bursting out laughing, and rolling off and onto your bed, covering his face in one hand while his tail swished to and fro. A flupoflim... he had gotten jealous over one of those nasty little buggers.

"Hey, hey... forgive me, dearly, I weren't laughing at you per say, truly." he was quick to pull you close when he saw you were about to leave the bed, still chuckling over your pouty expression before burying his face into your neck.

"My... what am I to do with you, dear Alice?"

Lorelei Kei ~

"Oh that's a nasty piece of work, I see..."

She was the first person you thought to go to regarding your bite. Your companion had forgotten to close the window all the way last night before falling asleep and a flupoflim had entered and bit you since it... apparently didn't like your dream or something of that sort? Whatever, honestly. You wanted it gone, it was itching like a motherfucker.

"Right? I can hardly even remember what I were fucking dreaming about! I swear, the one time I decide to indulge myself and this is what happens!" you complain, moving your hair out of the way to allow her to get a better look at the bite you had received for daring to dream.

It wasn't even fucking worth it either, the dream wasn't even worth noting enough to remember.

"I've a salve if you wish to apply that. I'm terribly sorry for the flupoflims, I know I've squashed a good few against my neck for such a transgression before." she offers with a small frown, pulling a small bottle from her dress pocket before she tips it turvy against her fingers and a small bit drips out.

"You're an absolute darling, Lorelei Kei. Honestly, I'd adore for you to do this for me, thank you kindly..." you sigh, shivering when you feel her fingers massaging the bite on your neck. "You made this yourself then?"

"Mm... yes, yes I did." she responds, feeling her lips curl up a little as she carefully sits down before you, and she makes sure the salve is spread evenly along the bite. "It's a simple mixture, really. My noveur told me the importance of not relying all on my strings to heal... though that was more so because the way my strings heal is a bit grotesque. Not that I care."

"Why did you create a salve if you don't care then?"

She doesn't respond for a moment, lifting her hand once the salve was applied and blowing gentle air to the area to help it dry a little better, making you gulp.

"Because you might think my healing ways are grotesque."

Nadia ~

"You can't ignore me forever." you tell her firmly, watching as she continues to work at her desk, writing a letter to her kingdom's form of government in her room.

"Nadia, this is childish."

"No it isn't." she says simply, standing up from her desk and grabbing a bowl of fruits she hadn't yet touched before she tosses it in front of you, the spinning bowl filling her dorm with an unpleasant sound as it, miraculously, doesn't begin multiplying by the dozens or growing bigger. Then again, that was also likely because she was wearing her gloves.

"Yes it is— you're even responding like a child." you tell her with a small frown, tilting the bowl towards you to look at its contents before settling on a berry that had nearly fallen out. "Had I committed a slight against you once more? Add onto mine list of many that you refuse to tell me? Look, I'm well aware that my beauty's been known for rendering others speechless, but—"

"I am the one acting childish. I would like to keep acting childish."

Oh, you didn't expect her to just outright admit it. You watch as she sits down about a cushion away from you. "What are you—"

"That mark on your neck," he mentions, nodding her head towards you, making you lift a hand up to what you knew she was talking about. "It's... disgusting. I don't want to look at it. I want to be upset as I refuse to look at it. You are making me upset."

"Nadia, this is a mere—"

"I know what it is," they interrupt you, biting their tongue before sighing as he looks away. "But... please, just don't say anything, or I may die of mortification. I'm usually much better at controlling my own emotions. But that... that thing on your neck— I know what it is, rationally, but even knowing this, just the sight of it, the implication of what it could be, I'm sick of it."

You stare at her a moment, your lips quirking up as you realize why she isn't looking at you. She isn't actually mad... what she really is makes you pop the berry in your mouth, giving you an excuse to shut up.

"... Please, get rid of it...?"

"... I will, so long as you help me."

Noré ~

What on earth had been getting into her these days...

She found herself at your beck and call much more earnestly than they first believed themself to be, first of all. This wasn't anything new, they had done this with anyone and everyone that had passed by them that hallway.

What was getting to him now was that... thing, thing on your neck. It was terribly ugly. It didn't suit you. He would know what suits you and what doesn't, he's completely memorized the sort of style you adore so dearly.

He found himself glued to your side, hanging onto your every word as you speak, your hand repeatedly reaching up to rub at the spot he was eyeing and everytime you did, she felt the pit in her stomach grow wider and wider until it felt as though it would swallow her whole.

"Must you be so enamoured with whatever it is that has you recalling as you rub that?" it slips out of their mouth before they can even think to keep it inside. "You realize that I'm in your company, yes? How terribly rude of you to treat a ruler this way, I ought to try you for—"

"Treason?" you finish, shaking your head. You didn't believe him. Of course you didn't, they never gave you any reason to believe in his words, ever. "Alright, Mocking Turtle. Riddle me this—"

"I'm no hatter, but go on and riddle me what." he responds blandly, hands clenched around her own wrists behind their own back. "Riddle me how?"

"Lethargic eyes and weary bones, they try to rest yet nature would oppose," you reach up to rub the area again. "A draft to fill, the moon to shine, whatever could float decides offense to a dream of mine. Whatever does it do?"

"... Indeed, whatever does it do?"

"It bites you." you respond with a small groan. "Fucking windows and dormmates and... ugh, it's absolutely killing me."

"Oh, no, I don't believe it so." Noré responds from beside you. "For if it were truly killing you, you'd be but flesh and bone."

"You jest, but it truly feels as though the ichor were being—" you cut yourself off as you look to them again, the way they smile feels a bit more relaxed than before. "And what's suddenly got you in such a good mood?"

He blinks at your words, his eyes no longer smiling, though his lips stretch upwards a bit more. "Indeed, whatever does?" they hum, keeping step with you and linking your arms together, tugging you closer to their side as they do.

"Whatever, I suppose you've riddled me true."

[oo-delallymrcrow]

Locked in a Closet

Summary: you and Frost get locked in a closet after searching for something important. It gets hot in there real fast

A/N: NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! This was taking me awhile but it's here finally! Please enjoy @amethyst-gemstone I worked so hard 😫

This was an unexpected turn. You and Frost had snuck into a shop to try and find important information on where to find someones missing sister. Until a light shined into the shop and you quickly pulled Frost into the closest door. And thats now you found yourselves locked in a closet. It was small, cramped, and pitch dark. 

With how quick you pulled Frost in, you were still holding onto the front of his robe as his arms stretched above you to hold himself up, not wanting to crush you in this cramped space. You felt the way his chest moved and winced as light shined brighter under the door, whoever this was planned on being here for awhile.

“Frost,” you whispered, peering up as he had to tuck his chin to catch your eyes. “I think we might be stuck here.”

“Hold on,” he closed his eyes, “let me get through to someone with my mind so they can cause a distraction.”

You nodded but realized he didn't see that so hummed in agreement. The tabaxi scrunched his face in concentration, and you had to bite back a giggle at how cute he looked. As a few moments passed, listening to whoever was in here move around, he finally opened his eyes. The yellow in them shining a little brighter when you were this close.

“I talked to Kremy and he is trying to get the guys together to do something.”  

As he said this, you noticed the flick in his ear and the quick twitch in his tail. There was something else he wasn't telling you.

“What else?”

He hummed as he stared down at you but moved his head to the side.

“Nothing else.”

You huffed as he didn't share anything else and shifted to try and get some distance when you froze. Frost's leg was in-between yours and it made your spine tingle at the sudden feeling of rubbing against him. You inhaled sharply and felt your face grow warm. His ears twitched again as he turned to face you. 

“Are you alright (Y/N)?”

“Peachy,” you mumbled as you tried to shift again.

You couldn’t stare at Frost too long with how red your face was. You closed your eyes and tried to think of something that could distract you from this situation. Taking in a deep breath, to only smell Frost. It couldn't be helped with how his whole body seemed to be around you but gods you wished something would make this better. 

It was that moment the Frost then moved, accidently pushing his leg against you more. It made you whimper, legs going tense as you shot your hand out to stop Frost. He seemed to have froze as you shakily inhaled.

“Frost, I'm sorry this is embarrassing but please do not move.”

He didn't say anything as you steadied your breathing. As you took a few minutes to compose yourself, you opened your eyes to Frost watching you, taking that exact moment to repeat the motion again. You cursed and gripped the front of his robe as the pressure of his thigh made you feel that tingle again.

“Frost-”

“We might be here for a while. We should take advantage of that.”

He leaned down and kissed you to muffle the whimper you let out as he placed his hands on your waist. Gripping it tightly and guiding your movements as you wrapped an arm around his neck to pull him closer.

The way you were being moved and the pressure being right on your clit made your whole body feel on fire. You had to pull away from the kiss for breath but that didn't stop Frost from pressing a kiss to your jaw and running his sharp teeth down your neck. You let out a moan before he pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

“You have to be quiet or else we'll get caught. Then that will spoil all the fun.”

You swallowed and gave him a quick nod before he continued what he was doing. Kissing your jaw before going down your neck, he licked up your throat and you shuttered as your hips pushed harder against him. Frost gave out a quiet hiss as his hips pushed against your leg, realizing he could rut up against you. You gasped as you felt how hard he was. You pushed your leg up against him before he growled, hoisting you up, and pressing you against the wall. You let out a quiet moan before burrowing your face into the side of his neck. 

“we don't have a lot of time,” he huffed, “so I hope you enjoy this.”

Before you could ask what he meant, you felt something rub your clit. Your head shot up to see Frost's face, his eyes closed in concentration, as you realized he was using his mage hand to play with you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt the hand slowly insert a finger into you. You had to throw a hand over your mouth to stop the small squeal as it moved in and out over and over again. You grasped onto his shoulders as you bucked up against him. You felt the feeling disappear as he let out a small exhale before he concentrated again.

Pushing two fingers into you as you groaned against your hand. The stretch felt so good as he moved them against you, curling them slightly to make your toes curl and your back to arch.

“F-fuck Frost,” you whined out as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You held him closer as he pressed a kiss to your jaw and sped up his movements. Your thighs began to shake as the rhythm of his fingers began to build your orgasm before he pressed his hips against you. You had to bite your lip, drawing a small amount of blood, as his cock pressed against your clit. You bucked your hips against him once, twice, before you were pushed over the edge. You tried your hardest to keep quiet as the orgasm washed over you. He slowed the movement of his fingers, easing you down from your high, as you collapsed back into the wall.

You blearily opened your eyes as Frost pressed his lips to yours. You hummed against his mouth as the mage hand disappeared and you felt empty again. 

“Frost,” you whispered as he pulled back to gaze at you. “That was fucking intense.”

“Hmm, yes. Did you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy it? I loved it.”

He chuckled as he gave you another kiss, “good. I think I'll being doing that again in the future.”

A sudden knock made you both tense and watch the door before a familiar voice came through.

“If you two are done we're ready to go.”

“Be right there Kremy.”

You closed your eyes, both in embarrassment and relief, as it was only your friends. Frost slowly put you down, steadying you as your legs shook, before fixing yourself up. He smiled at you as you took his hand and walked out of the closet. Avoiding a few of their stares as Gricko congratulated us both.

[scribblestatic]

I promise y'all I'm not trying to slow burn y'all to the confrontation; I just thought of this situation considering Liu Qingge's dead in this universe and I had to write it first qwq

As an apology, this one is much longer than the others. I even put a Read More on it, it's that long.

Prev: Part 3

---

Luo Binghe isolated Shen Yuan for a while at the beginning. He was exceptionally unhealthy and had a hard time holding conversations at first due to exhaustion. However, after a few weeks, his body started filling in and his hair wasn't nearly as fragile.

By this point, the wives had heard that Shen Qingqiu was removed from the Water Prison and taken to Luo Binghe's quarters. Of course, some of the ladies wanted to know why, considering all of the horrors Shen Qingqiu forced on his young student. Little Palace Mistress in particular was ready to whip him to shreds like she had done several times before.

However, instead of the others, the first one to see him is Liu Mingyan.

She had snuck in, back before Luo Binghe more heavily warded his quarters from his still-large harem.

She found him in Binghe's bed, still sallow but looking healthier, hair spread out on the pillow, both eyes closed. The one without an eyeball had a flattened, drooping eyelid uncovered by an eyepatch at the moment. She stared down at him for a good while, noting how the sheets didn't fill with his limbs like they did for others. Gazing at how his chest moved with each breath.

Eventually, she started to move, raising the dagger she had in her hand.

"...Excuse me."

Her eyes flicked up to his face, seeing his remaining eye open.

From his gaze, she ended up freezing.

After all, there was no way the Shen Qingqiu she knew had such a calm, almost kind look to him.

"This one would usually not hinder you on your quest for revenge... However, it seems Luo Binghe desires this one alive. I, ah, cannot say how he would react upon returning to see me dead." His eye looks away. "And, this one isn't the Shen Qingqiu you are familiar with. Apparently you can tell from my qi? Please check as you wish."

He shifted a bit, raising his right arm before pausing. After all, he only had about half of his bicep left.

"Ah. Right. I don't have wrists anymore."

They paused in an awkward silence, and Liu Mingyan lowered the dagger.

"...Your voice sounds different."

"Does it? For some reason, I can't tell. It sounds like me, but also doesn't sound like me. But I guess this one doesn't sound like Shen Jiu."

"Who is that."

"Ah, Shen Qingqiu. Or, well, he was." The amputated man in the bed smiled waveringly, and expression she never once thought she'd ever see on such a face. How did he manage to make such sharp eyes soften like that? "This one is Shen Yuan though. Luo Binghe summoned me here... Not exactly sure why, but I'm sure it's for a good reason."

His manner of speech was still polite, but his tone was more casual. And tired, a little like it took some effort for him to interact with her. There were also bags below his present eye, the eyelid to the other one having lifted slightly from muscle memory. She saw the scarring inside, her own eye twitching in unwilling sympathetic pain.

The eyelid shut tightly a moment later.

"Ah, excuse me. This one is sorry you have to see me in such a state. I'm sure it's quite ugly."

She stared down at him a while longer before she left without saying anything else.

Of course, once Luo Binghe returned and Shen Yuan talked about Liu Mingyan's visit (sans the dagger, of course), the demon emperor responded by more heavily warding his quarters and giving a firm talking to his harem about not visiting his shizun.

(Why, they wondered, did he say that word with affection now when it previously only curled from his mouth doused in hatred?)

Still, while Liu Mingyan pondered over the strange spirit taking up residence in Shen Qingqiu's body, the spirit, Shen Yuan, asked to be able to visit her. Luo Binghe told her this, his arms crossed and appearing very unsatisfied.

"He cannot come to you. So you go to him."

Luo Binghe wasn't one to order her around, not usually. Unless he needed martial assistance, for her to follow him during the many battles they fought in together at that point, or they wanted to share body heat, he left her to herself. She had a firm position in the harem, a powerful one at that, so it was not often she received any sort of order.

But he ordered her to visit Shen Yuan, who had wanted to somehow visit her himself.

Strange...

--

"Ah, this one didn't really think about his mobility when I asked to visit you. This one apologizes to have disturbed you."

This time, he's dressed in more layers than just his night clothes. He also has an eyepatch over his empty right socket. Instead of a top-do, his hair is tied with a ribbon along his lower back, still going easy on the styles as his hair recovers. He seems more comfortable than he was when she first saw him.

Again, that sheepishly polite look on his face. The likelihood that this was just some other scheme by Shen Qingqiu to harm Luo Binghe in some way seemed increasingly less likely. Besides, he had said something about being summoned into the body.

She really should've checked his soul that night. Luo Binghe had told her not to touch him, and at that moment, he was currently sitting in a nearby chair, acting as though he wasn't paying attention by reading a book.

"...Hmm. You haven't disturbed me. This Mingyan was also interested in seeing you again."

"For certain, you must have questions. This one probably produced more than answered them when we first met. I hope to clear up what I can."

So, she asks about what he meant that he was Shen Yuan, and he said he wasn't Shen Jiu but someone else. He's dodgy when she asks where he came from, but he does at least say that he's from another world, which...sounds quite like what Luo Binghe had said after he temporarily disappeared after a battle, instead replaced by some strange replica of him.

The other him had been tall, his hair curling like a curtain of waves along his back. His skin was darker, body more built with muscle and health. He was, indeed, incredibly handsome.

If not for the fact he had been extremely hostile.

He fought viciously, nearly killing Sha Hualing in one of her usual attempts to fight their lord husband, only realizing that he wasn't him and shifting to fighting him with the intent to kill. But instead, he used a sword that seemed to be Xin Mo, but wrapped in bindings that hindered its presence and power. Moreover, the moves he used, the talismans, the sword forms...

He had been trained properly in Qing Jing's martial arts, only seemingly lacking in some experience. But he overcame her with sheer force of power and technique.

After he managed to leave, their lord husband later returned, a strange braid having made its way into his hair.

He has yet to take it down, even now.

He returned with distress and a renewed anger toward Shen Qingqiu. From what she could hear, he had roared in fury at him, demanding to know why he couldn't have been "like him." Why he deserved vitriol from him at all.

It seemed to hurt Luo Binghe more to have conclusive evidence that Shen Qingqiu could've been different than it had been to imagine it.

...Was this "Shen Yuan" supposed to be a different Shen Qingqiu, summoned into the broken body of another version of himself?

Shen Yuan cringes when she asks, saying he would never have been anything like that "scum villain." Their souls have to be entirely different. It just so happens he occupied this empty body and Luo Binghe...wants something from him, and that he'll do what he can to help with whatever it is.

Liu Mingyan sends a look toward Luo Binghe, who gazes at the back of Shen Yuan's head, not even facing his book anymore.

She understands it then.

She's unsure what spell he'd used, but it does seem Shen Yuan truly is another soul summoned into Shen Qingqiu's body. The child who had wanted a kind shizun...he never healed. Is this his way of getting what he wants now? But, isn't this a loss of some sort?

Sure, the soul inside Shen Qingqiu is polite and kind, if not a bit oblivious, but it's not Shen Jiu (his name before courtesy, apparently). The true Shen Qingqiu never changed, even until he had to be replaced.

And now, Shen Qingqiu no longer has to suffer for the sins he committed, like murdering her brother.

Dissatisfaction curls in her heart... But it's not something to take out on the soul now inside his body. So, even if she doesn't quite return the sentiment, she at least isn't rude to him.

After their meeting ends, she talks to Ning Yingying, who had been worrying about the situation.

She seems relieved that Shen Qingqiu's soul is gone.

--

After several months, here's how some major ladies relate with Shen Yuan:

Liu Mingyan: Good Friendship

After their meeting, they didn't really talk much until she found him reading one of her books and he waxed poetic about its good, bad, ugly, and beautiful points. He turned so pale when she revealed she'd written it, but she also found herself appreciative of his honesty with her work. She starts showing him her drafts, which he reviews just as honestly as he did before, and they become more friendly.

Shen Yuan temporarily recedes from their friendship after he starts having more Shen Jiu dreams, and after she asks him what's wrong enough times, he finally has a sit down with her and confesses that he might actually be Shen Jiu, and he doesn't feel he deserves her friendship. They do become strained for a good minute again, but she eventually asks him to tell her why he killed Liu Qingge.

He was going to lie, but instead, he tells the truth—he hadn't meant to. In the dreams, he's trying desperately to save Liu Qingge, but his own poor control and cultivation accidentally kills him. He never confessed that it was an accident out of guilt and shame and that he felt he basically murdered Liu Qingge. The fact Shen Yuan starts crying during this distresses him further, as he feels it's even more proof that he might be Shen Jiu.

But Liu Mingyan is distressed for a different reason, since it means she took her anger and revenge out on a man who had actually tried to save her brother. They both don't talk for a while again, neither feeling like they deserve to associate with the other. However, when they both try to apologize, they say the other doesn't need to: Liu Mingyan because Shen Jiu was a grown man and should've told the truth, even if he didn't feel he'd be believed, and Shen Yuan because he might not even be Shen Jiu, and even if he was, then she's the one who wrong him more.

Shen Yuan insists that she was only working off what information she received and she couldn't be held accountable for that, but Liu Mingyan says that she would hold herself accountable for her response, and that she has to accept that she was in the wrong. Because Shen Qingqiu never said he had killed Liu Qingge, and had she not been caught up in her feelings, she could've seen how silent he was about accusations toward him, even if they were wild.

That makes Shen Yuan go quiet since he's thinking about how often Shen Jiu stays silent to accusations that, via his dreams, he's realizing weren't ever true.

After some time, their relationship heals, and they start talking again. He sees her as someone reliable and straightforward, and she sees him as someone incredibly forgiving, who has a kind heart that's honestly too soft for the dangerous world they live in. So, she ends up becoming something of a guardian friend for him whenever Binghe's away. She also enjoys talking about trashy smut novels with him while learning how to write even better prose and storylines.

Ning Yingying: Currently? Strained.

At first, he becomes very close to her after Liu Mingyan told her that Shen Qingqiu's soul was replaced by someone else. She quickly went to get to know him and learn more about him, chatting it up and being her outgoing, friendly self. However, after a few times, Shen Yuan can sense that there's something a tad strained about how she associates with him under it all.

She's the first one he tells about the strange Shen Jiu dreams, which took him a while to decide to tell anyone about anyway.

She, ah, did not react well.

Ning Yingying had turned pale and left the room hurriedly. The attendants at the time started talking about him "showing his true colors" on the grapevine (which prompts him to confess to Binghe and eventually prompts Liu Mingyan's visit and his confession to her about possibly being Shen Jiu). Shen Yuan first thinks she ran away from him because he had sexually groomed her, and he even recedes from accepting Luo Binghe's attention as well, which put them in a rocky spot.

But then he has a dream about Shen Jiu's relationship with Ning Yingying, and...

No. Nothing.

If anything, he just had a familial relationship with her. Shen Jiu thought of Ning Yingying as a daughter.

He watched Shen Jiu keep her from working in the Warm Red Pavilion when she was perhaps too young to remember, right around the same time he dreams that he actually went there to avoid being around the men on the peak. He paid special attention to her because of his distaste for men, to the point he doted on her too much.

When he brought Luo Binghe onto his peak just to spite Liu Qingge, Ning Yingying's attention on him didn't spark jealousy, but fear.

He was afraid that Luo Binghe would become like Qiu Jianluo, and Ning Yingying would become like Qiu Haitang. That fueled his unjustified hatred and mistreatment toward Luo Binghe, as though expecting him specifically to become just like the man who assaulted him...

And didn't he? Didn't Luo Binghe become that person in the end? All because of a self-fulfilling prophecy that didn't have to be that way if Shen Jiu trusted someone else and got help. He turned Luo Binghe into his worst nightmare. And Ning Yingying...lied to help get him imprisoned.

Remember the pause during Liu Mingyan's part when they were apologizing to each other? That was him thinking about Shen Jiu's problem: he never spoke up, assuming no one would believe him. He helped cause his own problems...but he couldn't even blame it all on Shen Jiu's secretive nature anymore.

Not long after he and Liu Mingyan make up (with some remaining strain with Binghe, but the man hasn't abandoned taking care of him, thankfully), he dreams about Ning Yingying's false account of his lewd nature. And he feels, in his own chest, that Shen Jiu felt utterly abandoned by everyone in the world. Meanwhile, he kept quiet, thinking that it would help separate himself from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, because despite his cattiness, he genuinely loved his position and felt pride in rising to power. The bamboo forest and the quiet pool had been his sanctuary.

He was satisfied with allowing himself to be destroyed if it meant the sect would survive. And his sect siblings just...let it happen. And so did Ning Yingying, pushing it along with her false testimony.

...Perhaps she saw the writing on the wall. Maybe she knew that Luo Binghe would seek to repay every grievance. Despite his sacrifice, Qing Jing Peak was lost, his sanctuary burnt to the ground. Because of his stupid pride, because of false testimonies and beliefs, and because his sect members hated him just as much as he despised himself.

If that was the the case, then Shen Yuan can't blame her for choosing the path to survival. She knew Luo Binghe loved her, and he taught her to care for herself. And that she did. So really, could he blame her for applying what he taught her to do? No. No, he couldn't. And he wouldn't.

She survived and is living well. As much as his heart hurts at the betrayal, he should've been a better person. Perhaps then, he could've kept the people he loved closer to him...

Shen Yuan blinked, realizing he forgot to think of it as Shen Jiu and not himself.

Ning Yingying has yet to speak to him again as of the time for his crowning ceremony, but at least he knows from a severely apologetic Luo Binghe that it's because she confessed the truth of her lie. She was present at his wedding, though they didn't speak much. He continues to extend an invitation to see her. She continues to deny it, so for now, he's leaving the door to communication quietly open.

This is getting a bit too long, so one last one for now!

Sha Hualing: Antagonistic, but actually friendly

It helps, in this case, that Shen Yuan's aware that Sha Hualing, born and raised as a demon, beats up on and teases people she likes. Of course, she can't actually beat up on him since Luo Binghe promised severe pain if she ever does. So, instead, she teases him. A lot.

At first, it was really meanspirited. She said a few things about his limbs that no reasonable person should laugh at. But Shen Yuan had joked back at her, firmly thinking he isn't Shen Jiu (and later, upon thinking he might be Shen Jiu, thinking he deserves it), so it didn't matter. She was thrown off at first, but found herself liking him for having thick skin.

After he and Liu Mingyan start having book club, Sha Hualing skulks around and teased him in more meanspirited but non-physically harmful ways, like poking him, flipping his hair over his head, or picking him up and holding him like a stuffed animal.

Although Shen Yuan can be oblivious, he starts recognizing her behavior as jealousy and eventually point-blank asks her if she's jealous of his time with Binghe. She huffs and doesn't react much, so, since he is now more aware of his own sexuality, he thinks further and askes if she's jealous of the time he spends with Liu Mingyan.

Sha Hualing sputters and huffs and calls him a fool, and Shen Yuan's expression steadily shifts from surprise to the most trollish grin she'd ever seen. She keeps insisting that wasn't the case, but Shen Yuan, having smelt blood in the water, brings out all his previous internet troll behavior to the point even she has to retreat.

Though, he does tell her later that he wouldn't tell Liu Mingyan if she doesn't want him to, which she appreciates. She eventually admits to him that she likes her, and though she was married to Luo Binghe, she wouldn't mind spending time romancing Liu Mingyan. Shen Yuan figures that since the two are in a harem (he hadn't married in yet), it isn't wrong for wives to love each other. Though, it turns out that was actually quite modern thinking, since it was expected for harem members to only dedicate themselves to their husband.

Shen Yuan: "...Eh? Since when do you follow those sorts of rules?"

Sha Hualing: *surprised Pikachu face* "Oh wow, you're right."

So, Sha Hualing askes Liu Mingyan out, and now they are dating while still being married to Luo Binghe, who, as it turns out, didn't care at all whether or not they had sex or dated each other.

When Shen Yuan receded from his friendship with Liu Mingyan upon starting to think he might actually be Shen Jiu, she's the one who motivated Liu Mingyan to try speaking with him. He told Mingyan about the dream and the truth, and they both stopped talking for less than a week before apologizing to each other. Sha Hualing calls them both foolish later on, and Shen Yuan gripes at her, who gripes right back.

Also, unbeknownst to Shen Yuan, Sha Hualing is part of the reason why Ning Yingying hasn't come back to talk to him again. Sure, Sha Hualing is a demon who betrayed her family to have power with Luo Binghe, but that's a demon's way. She teases Ning Yingying, calling her more like a demon than a human, which is an otherwise friendly jab, but, like with Shen Yuan's limbs, stabs close to home a tad too much.

So, it turns into a genuine fight, with Ning Yingying saying how she didn't like what Sha Hualing did to her own father, but Sha Hualing just says the equivalent of, "Hey pot, I'm the kettle. But at least I'm honest about it," which actually does kinda rub Sha Hualing the wrong way.

As of the crowning ceremony, Sha Hualing is friendly antagonistic toward Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe, dating Liu Mingyan, and mildly dismissive toward Ning Yingying.

---

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: here

[avengerscompound]

Shared Experience - Chapter 10

Shared Experience - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Injuries, blood, blood-drinking, sex talk and touching.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Rose Astor

Word Count: 1972

Summary:  Rose Astor met her end in 1920, joining the ranks of the living dead two years after the birth of Steve Rogers.  A century later the two meet in battle - a beacon of light clashing with a creature of the night.  Despite their differences, the two bond over their shared life experiences.  Can a vampire become an Avenger?  Can two such different beings create a life together?

Chapter 10

Blood spilled into Rose’s mouth and down her chin, warm, salty, and nourishing.  Rose tried to turn her head, to pull away, to stop from swallowing the very thing that could keep her alive.  She had never wanted something as much as this before, yet simultaneously she wanted it to stop, to push away and fight this from happening.  Steve was trying to feed her after spending months telling her no and she wanted it so badly, but if she started, she wasn’t sure that she could stop.

There was no stopping it.  Her injuries were too severe and even if she was strong enough physically to push him away, when she was this close to death she lost all humanity.  The instinct to survive pushed away all mortal thoughts and her body acted outside her control.  It would have been hard not just to bite him if he wasn’t bleeding freely into her mouth.  The fact he was, made it impossible.

She latched on, her hands going to his forearm and holding it in place as she drank.  Each swallow of the thick hot liquid reenergized her.  Her wounds knitted and her flesh filled back out.  Color returned to her skin.  The heat from the blood radiated through her until she felt like a furnace in the middle of the snowy forest.

Never had she felt the effect of blood so fully and to such an extreme as drinking from Steve now.  It was like drinking straight from the sun.  His blood surged through her, making her feel stronger and more alive than she could ever remember feeling.  Within minutes, she felt strong enough to run again, yet she couldn’t pull herself away.

Steve moaned.  It was a low and deep sound that reverberated out from his chest.  She looked up at him.  His head had lolled back on his shoulders and the look of pure bliss etched into his features made her tingle right through to her core.  She knew what it was like for the people she fed from.  The near-orgasmic feeling that vampires created for their victims was a defense mechanism.  It stopped them from struggling and meant the Vampire had more control over the outcome.

God, how she wished this wasn’t happening like this.  In the middle of the Russian Wilderness, buried in snow, and surrounded by HYDRA was not where she wanted to be sharing this with Steve.  She wanted to do this at home, in her bed, his cock buried as deep into her cunt as he could go.  She reached down and put her hand on his cock.  He was rock hard, even through the thick fabric of his combat wear she could feel the press of his cock.  He moaned again and pulled her closer to him.  “Rose…”

It was her name that snapped her out of it.  The way he breathed it, the love that it carried even in the throes of pleasure.  She released him and pulled back, scrambling away from him.  She needed a moment to compose herself and while the wound on his wrist was still open, she wouldn’t be able to.  It would heal quickly now she wasn’t feeding - another side effect of her feeding.  The wounds healed with no scar, so no one could guess what had happened.

Steve looked up at her dazed.  “Rose?” he asked.

“Just give me a second,” she panted.  Not that she was breathing heavily.  She wasn’t breathing at all.  It was just a way to regulate the blood flow and shake off the feeding frenzy that had taken over her.  “Are you okay?  Did I drink too much?”

Steve shook his head and looked down at his wrist.  The wound was mostly healed and he rubbed his hand over it.  “I’m okay… what was that?”

“That’s why it’s taken me so long to separate feeding from sex,” she said.  “Are you sure you’re okay?  We should probably get out of here.”

He stood and while he still looked a little dazed, he was steady on his feet.  She stood, shaking off the layer of snow that was clinging to her.  “We should find the others,” she said.  “I’ll need to go to ground soon.  Dawn is coming.”

Steve pointed the way he came.  “It’s that way, but we’ll have to move fast if you’re going to make it.”

“I guess we’ll go as far as I can.  If I need to bury myself, that’s okay.  You can mark it and find me tomorrow night,” she said.

He nodded.  “Let’s go,” he said.

The two began to run, tearing along the frozen landscape toward the rest of the Avengers.  The cold air stung Rose’s cheeks, yet she couldn’t remember ever feeling warmer or more alive.  Something about Steve’s blood had invigorated her.  It had given her some sense of life again.  More than that, it made her feel slightly high.

She kept her pace steady despite wanting to take off and test her limits.  She thought with this new boost she could run over water.  She felt invincible.

At the speed they moved, she was sure she’d find the jet and the others before the sun rose.  Unfortunately, she’d misjudged exactly how long she’d been awake for.  Lethargy began to kick in and she felt the animalistic urge to start to dig.  She kept pushing, determined to find something, and just as the first rays of light rose to the East, she spotted a small ice fishing cabin.  There were no signs of life around at all and while there was the risk of someone coming during the day, with all the HYDRA activity in the area, it was safe to assume no one would be coming to use it.

Surprising as it was to find any shelter in the Russian wilderness, the fact she could see sunlight and yet was both still awake and not burning was more surprising.

She pointed at the cabin to Steve. “I’m going there.  I need to get out of the open.”

He simply nodded and she ran as fast as she could, a mere blur in the snow, pushing the limits of her abilities.  Her skin was starting to blister and her energy waned as she reached the building that was no more than a box with a slanted roof.  With a massive heave, she shoved the pile of snow away from the door, yanked it open, and hurried inside.  Once out of the sun, her skin immediately healed, giving her an almost tanned look.  The cabin had bunks built into the far wall, each with a lumpy hole-ridden mattress and dusty blankets piled on them.  Closer to the door was a wood stove, and some shelves with tinned food and a bottle of what looked like moonshine.  Rose didn’t take long to take it in.  She rushed to the bed, pulled down the upper mattress to create a walled box under the lowest bunk, grabbed the blanket, and crawled under it.  As soon as the blanket was covering her entire body, her eyes closed.  She had lost consciousness before Steve had even reached the cabin.

Rose woke all at once.  She had expected to be colder than she was, but aside from the fact that whatever was in Steve’s blood had made her own body heat to above the ambient temperature, warmth radiated out from the other side of the room.  She shimmed out under the mattress that was protecting her from the light.  Steve was sitting on a rickety fold-out chair by the stove, looking over something on his tablet.  With the large coat he had on, he looked far too big for the chair and she wondered how it was even still in one piece.

He looked up at the sound and a smile lit up his features. “Wow,” he said.  “You look - different.”

She looked down at herself to try and see what he was talking about.  All she could see was the tattered ruins of her uniform.  She didn’t need coats like the others, but the outfit covered her neck to toe, including her hands.  There was a tear in the fabric on her chest, but the wound under it was completely healed.  “What is it?”

“You have a tan,” he said.  “I was worried when the sun came up.  You normally go into autopilot as soon as it gets close to dawn so you get somewhere dark and protected.  What happened?”

She shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine.  I felt that urge, but I was able to overrule it, and when the sun started coming up, it burned but -” she shrugged.  “I guess it was your blood.  The super-serum.  I feel - alive.  Or as close to it as I have been since I was turned.”

Steve seemed to assess her.  The weight of his gaze was heavy and she felt like she was under a magnifying glass.  She wrapped her arms around her body, almost as if she was trying to protect herself.  “Is it always like that?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“The way you felt?” she asked.  He gave a short nod in reply.  “Yes.  I think it’s a survival thing.  It’s safer for us if you enjoy the experience.”

He didn’t say anything and she started to worry his feelings had changed about her.  She hadn’t wanted this.  She’d tried to resist feeding from him, but he’d forced it.  “Are you angry with me?” she asked.

He blinked and shook his head.  “Oh god, no,” he said, holding out his arms.  She moved into them instinctively and he held her close to his chest.  The steady even thud of his heart soothing her along with the strong arms.  “No, honey.  How could I be angry with you?  You’ve never lied to me about what you are.  This is just new - for both of us.  I wonder what it means.”

“I’m sure it will wear off,” she said.  “Like when you eat white bread.  A blood sugar spike and then drop.  By the time I need to feed again, it’ll be like it never happened.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I guess we’ll see.”

Rose closed her eyes and just let Steve hold her.  Yesterday had been a lot.  She’d had worse days in her life, but they’d been a long time ago.  Never had she had someone there to just comfort her like this after so much stress and pain.  Usually, the person she had to be with after it, was the same person who had inflicted the pain in the first place.

She pulled back slowly and looked up at him.  “Should we find the others?” she asked.

Steve laughed.  “Oh, they’re just outside,” he said.  He opened the door of the cabin to show her the view of the lake.  On the far side, the lights from the Quin reflected off the ice from the lake, glittering like stars.  The sounds of the rest of the team talking and preparing to leave floated over on the arctic wind.  “I stayed here through the day.  I thought a wood cabin near a town and a HYDRA base might be a little risky to leave you unguarded.  If someone else came to use it or hide in it, they’d just need to start a fire and that would be the end of you.  The rest of the team was off finalizing everything.  SHIELD arrived.  They made their arrests.  The base is in the process of being cleared out of illegal equipment.”

Rose sighed in relief and leaned against him again.  “So we can go home?”

“Yeah, we have some prisoners that need to be taken to the Raft,” he said.  “But yes, we can go home.”

// NEXT

[nmbrtobio]

sunaxreader

fluff, angst.

********•********•*********•*********•**********

you’re staring at him.

he’s across the cafeteria laughing with his friends being happy like nothing had happened ever since you guys broke up a two months ago.

you can’t get over him. you can’t get over this brown hair, his eyes, the hoodie he’s wearing right now. the one that he gave you. he’s not wearing the necklace you gave him a year ago on his birthday, he’s probably wearing some other chain around his neck.

you wish he texted you. you wished that he’ll make eye contact with you right now.

sometimes you swear you feel his eyes on you but when you try to meet his, his back is facing towards you.

the boy you loved, and that you think loved you, is acting like nothing happened.

“y/n cmon we gotta get to class!” your friend yelled at you, and you nodded not looking away from suna. as you stand up and look up at him one more time you guys make eye contact.

one second. two seconds. three seconds. four-

your friend yanked you away and atsumu got in sunas way. you felt a pain in your chest. and hate, because that’s the first time he’s looked at you since these past two months.

———————————————————————

you went to a club with your four friends, all dressed in pretty skin tight dresses, and all dolled up. you’re wearing the black dress suna loved on you. you didn’t do it on purpose, your friends picked it out for you.

tonight you just wanna drink though and feel something, anything. maybe cause of the alcohol stored here, or for the cute looking guys around here. maybe someone.

you’re currently now on the bathroom counter kissing… what was his name again? you weren’t sure, but you weren’t turned on by this, or weren’t interested, and didn’t feel anything. he’s kissing down your neck and he made it down to your collarbone, before you made an excuse to walk away, “hey we should do this another time you know? my friends are looking for me it’s an emergency.” he looked bummed out but he let you go.

you went to the bar, and had a drink after drink, and now on the dance floor with your girls, laughing and having fun. you’re head is pounding a bit but it’s no big deal, you’re still having fun. but now you have to go to the bathroom and throw up.

“hey i’ll be right back.”

your speed walking to the bathroom now, and suna just keeps popping back up in your head. when you guys would go to parties together and dance with him and the others, or you’ll be dancing and he’ll make sure no one will come your way. or like when you drank to much he’ll hold your hair when you threw up.

it’s all coming out of you as your leaned over the toilet, throwing it all up. and now your crying, because you missed suna and he acted like everything was fine today, because he’s not here to hold your hand, or watch you as you dance, and maybe because he’s not here as your date, and not the guy you make out with in the bathroom.

your balling your eyes out, and there’s snot coming out your nose. your mascara is running down and your wiping your tears that’s repeatedly going down.

and all of a sudden your phone is in your hands, and you click on sunas contact.

ring…

ring…

ri-

there’s silence.

“hello?” you sniffle and start sobbing harder, cause you missed his voice so much.

sniff, “hi rin.” it just comes out so naturally.

“you know rin, i’m at a club, and i really miss you- likeim crying- i’m crying next to a toilet, because i miss you isn’t that funny?” your words are a little slurred. “rin i miss you. i fucking haye you i don’t get it why-why did you have to leave me. i could hate you but i can’t i can’t hate you, why do you act like nothing happened to us like we were never deeply in love.”

suna on the other line is still quiet.

“you know- i miss you, i miss us. please suna i can’t do this without you suna.”

“i love you y/n.” now your crying even more and suna hears you throwing up in the back, crying again right after, “where are you baby?” he says as you hear his car keys and the sound of his front door closing.

“you still have my location.” you say as you begin wiping the tears again. “suna don’t leave me please i’m not ready. you’re still always in my mind.”

“are you in love with anyone else? cause i’m not in love with anyone else, and what’s so fucking crazy is that it’s always been you.” your words are getting more slurred and your getting tired. “i’m almost there, can you walk out to the front for me? or do you need help?”

you slowly start getting up still having tears rolling down, and say yes. you walk out of the stalls with your heels in your hands and head outside, and you sit on the steps waiting for suna. he’s speaking to you but you fell asleep as soon as you sat down and leaned against the wall.

Sunas pov

Suna reached the club and saw you lying against the wall sitting on the steps. he hangs up the phone and rushes out of the car. he missed you so much.

he walked over to your sleepy body and woke you up, “cmon just walk to the car for me. i’ll hold you up.” you slowly opened your eyes and saw suna, “hi my love” saying in a whisper. and then your crying, again. he smiles and helps you up to walk towards his car, “please don’t leave me again, i’ll be lonely.”

as much as he doesn’t want to, he has to. it hurts his heart so much, that when he’s looking at you you’re never looking back at him, how he misses your hair, your eyes, your voice. he’ll say everything he wants to tonight, because he knows you’ll forget it the next morning. “i wish i could bring you everywhere with me y/n, and i wish you could love yourself the way i do. maybe once we both learn to put away our pride and learn how to communicate, i’ll run back to you. i always will.”

“to answer your question from earlier, no. i haven’t loved someone else because i still look for you through a crowd of hundreds of people. sometimes i still even check if you come to my volleyball games, even when you are there, i think your there for me and not for sakusa.”

he puts you in the passenger seat, and drives you home.

you forget everything the next morning, and suna told sakusa what happened. what you think happened last night is that you drank too much and you called sakusa to come get you.

.•.•.•.•…•.•.•..••..•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•..•.•.•.•.•••…

i did not go over this, so there may be some spelling mistakes and bad grammar. should i make a part two?

-nmbrtobio

[sad-emo-dip-dye]

Stage play kunidazai being silly, if you even care