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animeismyhappyplace · 3 months

Text

My Deerest Darling

Synopsis: When Alastor's rut hits he needs someone he can truly trust to help him out, luckily for him Y/N just arrived at the Hazbin Hotel.

Set around episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel and may contain some spoilers for the series.

Word Count: 5K (5,045)

Trigger Warnings: 18+!!!

Platonic friends who share a close bond and care for each other, tiny pinch of angst at the start, possessive behavior, swearing, a deal is made, pet names (dear, darling), his demon form is here, marking and love bites, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, porn with some plot, ambiguous ending I suppose 😜

Authors Note: I know that Alastor is AroAce canonically so I wanted to write this like he's in a stressful situation, one he can't really control, and chooses to experience it with a close friend.

I've never written an Ace character before so I hope I do him at least some justice ☺️.

I've taken the route, after a little bit of research, that over time he could form a sexual attraction if it was the right circumstances and he'd known the person for a very long time but it'd still be something that rarely happens.

Y/N walks down through the streets of Pentagram City frowning as she walks past more fires and explosions than she could count, she'd even had to side step past a bird looking sinner screaming about being doomed come the next Externation Day.

She was making her way to the Hazbin Hotel to see an old friend. She walks up the large wooden doors somewhat hesitant, it's been a long time since she last spoke to Alastor but more information was needed about Pride Ring's next steps given the recent news.

Giving herself a moment to calm the nerves drumming across her veins she takes a moment to smooth out her outfit and tuck any flyaway hairs back into place before giving the door a few sharp knocks.

She waits for a few moments with seemingly no activity inside the large hotel until she hears a gruff voice complain “... Why the fuck do I have to answer the door? Not enough that I'm already the fuckin' bartender…”

Her eyes widen as she instantly recognises the voice, almost laughing as a rather grumpy looking cat reluctantly answers the door “What the fuck do you wa...Y/N?”

Husk's wide yellow eyes stare at her his jaw basically hanging on the floor, the awkwardness of the situation making her rock on the balls of her feet nervously “Hey Husker, long time no see”

Y/N swallows the lump forming in her throat as she notices his body is still somewhat stiff “uhh didn't realise you were back in the Pride Ring”

The woman simply nods at his statement “came back when I heard the announcement ‘bout the angelic fuckers dropping on us faster than usual”

“Right…” he answers guardedly, his eyes looking her up and down, making her own drop to the concrete leading up to the hotel's entrance “is Alastor here?”

Husk clears his throat gesturing for her to come in while stepping aside, she gives him a tight lipped smile entering cautiously.

Her eyes flit around the room as she takes in her surroundings, her soft gaze settling on some portraits of Lucifer and his family. She gets so lost in thought she almost doesn't realise a certain demon is watching her with intrigue.

Static fills the air making her blood run cold as her eyes snap to the radio demon himself, Alastor.

“Well well well, you're certainly the last person I'd have expected to see here, my dear”

Nervously she wrings her hands together, unable to look at him as his red eyes bore into her face “can we talk?”

A wide smile spreads across Alastor's face as he stares at his old friend. His head tilts slightly as he looks her up and down with curiosity, his piercing red eyes glowing ominously as he nods.

"Why of course my dear~ come, let's find a quiet place to talk"

He turns his back on her as he gestures for her to follow him with a simple point of his long finger.

Y/N nods following silently, passing through a few vacant corridors before stopping at a room Alastor finally seems happy with.

He again gestures for her to walk in, letting her go first like the gentleman he is with a large smile on his face as he shuts the door behind them.

Turning to face her, he tilts his head expectantly waiting for her to speak but when nothing but silence fills the air he clears his throat "so to what do we owe this rare pleasure?"

A frown sets deep in across her forehead as she sighs "you needn't be so formal with me Alastor, we've known each other a long time..."

Rolling his eyes he clicks his tongue at her "yes, until you suddenly disappeared"

His eyes narrow as he spits out "how fun that was"

She visibly winches as his words cut at her heart, her head hanging in shame "I know... I'm sorry…”

Alastor's eyebrow raises as she explains herself. His eyes narrow slightly, a look of distrust glittering across his large orbs but it quickly fades as he watches her body language.

She's clearly uncomfortable at having to face him returning from an absence just as long as his own. He steps a bit closer to her, his movements are slow and deliberate as he meets her eyes curiosity getting the better of him.

"Hmm yes well I must ask..."

The corner of his mouth curls up into a predatory smile as his voice lowers with an air of menace in his words. "Where have you been hiding my dear?" He says in a low tone, hand grabbing at his mic.

She goes to speak but then notices his shadows beginning to move around the room, almost touching her legs as they surround her, raising her eyebrow at him she finally gives him the answer he's been looking for.

"Wrath, a friend of mine told me something very interesting. I'd be happy to tell you what they said, you know since we're so close" she smiles almost wickedly.

A hint of laughter escapes his lips at her words before he raises his eyebrows at her with genuine curiosity.

"Please do go on my dear~ don't leave me in such suspense" Alastor leans forwards resting on his mic.

A small chuckle leaves her lips at his rapid mood swing but she concedes nodding "while scavenging for weapons they found a body, a rather holy looking body wouldn't you say?"

She walks close to him, handing over a picture of a headless exterminator.

The Radio Demon stares down at the picture, his eyes widen as his smile broadens. His lips curl into a menacing grin as he slowly nods his head.

"Yes...I would indeed"

His eyes light up with interest as he raises his eyebrow, a curious glint sparkling in his cherry red eyes.

"Tell me my dear, how did the creature meet its gruesome end?”

A deep sigh of disappointment leaves her lips at his question, her arms folding in front of her stomach "ah that I don't know, my dear Alastor"

A wide smile stretches over her lips pulling tightly at her rosy cheeks "though I figure if anyone could find out what happened, it'd be you"

A small chuckle escapes his lips as he considers her words.

"Hmmm..."

He paces around the room, his long legs striding effortlessly with a soft hiss of static sounding with each step.

"Yes. That's quite possible indeed"

He walks over to her stopping just in front of her body and smiles, the glint in his eyes becoming more intense as his voice drops into a lower tone.

"I suppose could do a bit of investigating, for the right price of course~"

His long fingers curl over her hair patting gently as his hand settles on her head.

She turns her head to look up at him humming softly at his words "a deal? What'd you have in mind?"

A smug grin crosses his lips as he raises an eyebrow. In this moment, his presence is intense, his aura of power and danger surrounding her like a heavy blanket of shadows.

"Simple enough~"

He pauses before continuing in the same suave voice, his eyes narrowing as he leans down towards her face.

"I'll get all the information I can on the dead angel and you... will owe me one small favour to be cashed in any time of my choosing”

"Simple enough until I know what it is you want from me" a small pout settles across her lips as she thinks over his proposition and in the end she holds her hand out to him.

The aura in the room drastically changes. Green stitches appear along Alastor's mouth covering his sharp teeth, his eye colour changing to bright green, his pupils shifting to radio dials and his dark antlers growing in size curving around his head.

"Is it done?”

His demonic form disappears as quickly as it appeared. A chuckle escaped his lips as he reached out to gently stroke her hair humming almost softly.

"Good girl~ we have ourselves a deal"

His voice becomes more even as the quiet of the room returns.

"I don't suppose you could do me a favour? work your magic and convince that little princess you're helping to let me stay here?" she chuckles under her breath.

A sly grin spreads across the handsome demon's face as he chuckles softly. His eyes light up with mischief and he taps his mic as his voice softens.

"Why yes I believe I could. Come with me my dear and let's go see Charlie”

She smiles at the taller demon appreciatively as they begin walking to the door.

"Would it be strange for me to say I've missed you and your mysterious ways?" She asks with a small giggle falling from her lips.

A low chuckle escapes the demon as he teases her "how sentimental of you"

"Not at all my dear"

His eyes soften for a very brief moment and he's clearing his throat.

"Please. Follow me”

Charlie had accepted Y/N’s presence quicker than she'd expected but it worked in her favour so she hadn't questioned it much simply looking towards Alastor who shrugged his shoulders with his ever present smile spread across his face.

She worked hard to dodge Husk's probing questions during breakfast, anxiety rising until he'd finally dropped the subject after multiple prompts from Charlie and Vaggie.

Her worries now shifted to Alastor who'd been strangely quiet since they made their deal, his eyes darting around the room rapidly almost as if he was waiting for something.

She had decided to corner him in the afternoon after realising he'd spoken only twice so far all day, it was concerning to say the least.

She steadily ascends the winding stairs leading up to his radio tower, finding him hunched over the console, his back rising and falling rapidly as his breathing looked laboured.

“Alastor?” She asks with a soft tone.

As she speaks, his body jerks up with a sharp intake of breath. He straightens himself, and his breathing becomes more controlled as he turns to face her. Alastor's expression remains neutral but his eyes narrow as he stares at her.

"Yes my dear? What is it?"

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his long claws digging into his skin as he continued to stare at her, still not quite meeting her eyes.

She stares at him for a moment brows knitting together in a small frown as she watches beads of sweat trail down his cheeks from his forehead "just wanted to check on you, you've been awfully quiet today"

Questioning eyes wander down until they stop at his clenched fists "you seem out of sorts"

He looks down at his hands as his breathing becomes slightly more erratic. His body seems to tense up as he realises she's watching him intently.

"No no I'm fine, probably just... the time of year"

His eyes narrow in annoyance glancing over her shoulder towards the large red door.

She doesn't seem convinced as she slowly moves closer "you sure? Cause you really do seem-"

She teaches her hand out to touch his forehead wanting to check his temperature 'can demons even get sick?' she wonders as his body reacts quickly, reaching out to grab onto her arm stopping her as his hand tightens its grip.

His skin feels hot to the touch, almost burning her skin as he holds her hand firmly, gripping it so tightly it almost hurts.

His breathing grows sharper as his eyes bore into her own, his ears flattening against his head.

"S-sorry Alastor, too close?" She whispers as she tries to pull away, fearing she's made him uncomfortable.

The demon seems to snap back to reality, eyes wide and blinking rapidly before letting go of her hand looking at her with a slightly irritated expression.

He doesn't reply, just shakes his head, pushing past her to grab his mic before storming away back to the hotel.

Y/N stands in the silent radio tower frozen in pure confusion at his actions.

She looks down at her skin wondering if there'd be a burn mark left behind from his touch but of course there wasn't, shaking her head she sighs before leaving the tower herself.

✨ Later That Day ✨

The next time she sees Alastor his behaviour is even more strange. She had been having a few drinks at the bar with Husk and Angel Dust, telling the friendly spider demon all about her early days as a sinner and how she'd managed to slowly befriend the standoffish overlord.

Alastor had entered the large space calm as ever, his eyes finding the trio quickly, red eyes narrowing at Husk as he handed Y/N a new drink, his hand momentarily brushing against her fingers but it's enough.

A loud and low growl rumbles in Alastor's chest as he storms over to the group, startling Y/N so much she jumps dropping the glass.

His long slender fingers wrap around her wrist as he pulls her off the bar stool and into his chest, his left arm winding around her waist in an almost protective manner making her yelp as her face is thrust into his chest.

Red eyes narrow at the two men as his pupils transform into radio dials, large antlers growing as his chest shakes with anger “ĐØ₦'₮ ₮ØɄ₵Ⱨ ⱧɆⱤ” black shadowy tentacles shoot out and grab onto Husk's red bowtie pulling him into the edge of the bar as the radio demons smile widens in demonic glee.

Y/N's hands grip onto Alastor's shirt tugging harshly “Alastor! Alastor STOP” she shouts trying to push him backwards to get his attention.

His body stiffens as the shadows recede dropping Husk onto the floor, his pupils changing back to their regular shape as his gaze shifts down to her body still pressed tightly against his own.

A look of panic crosses the demon's face as he pushes Y/N away from his body. His eyebrows furrow for a moment before he's stalking out of the room, slamming the door as leaves. Y/N's breaths are shallow as her heart thunders in her chest.

“Uh what in the fuck was that?” Angel asks incredulously while helping Husk to his feet, his eyes flicking between her and his friend.

“I-I don't know… I've never…” her mind is racing as she tries to think back to their many years of friendship but she'd never seen him act that way before and it scared her.

Without realising her feet are moving to follow in his footsteps, she needs to find out what was going on.

She searches all around the hotel but doesn't find a single trace of her friend. Giving up and finally trudging back to her bedroom for a much needed rest, she kicks the door open, not even bothering to shut it before flopping face first onto her bed.

Her temples are pulsing wildly with pain at the headache she's given herself trying to figure out Alastor's strange actions, her fingers rub deep circles against her head making her groan until the sound of her door slamming shut makes her jump up so quickly she almost falls off her bed.

The door slams with a rather loud bang showing Alastor walking further into the room, a small smirk playing on his lips as he steps toward her.

"Đīđ Ī ꞩȼⱥɍē ɏꝋᵾ đēⱥɍ? You should really be more careful leaving your door open like that anyone could walk in"

His eyes darted over her body as sweat drops from his fringe to the floor, his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of red matching his hair.

"Alastor? What's going on? You're not acting like yourself" she shifts backwards on the bed until her back hits the headboard, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Alastor continues to walk towards her with an unsettling grin plastered across his face.

"Ah...You're quite right about that my dear, it's that time of the year for me unfortunately."

In a sudden move, he's leaning over her, placing a hand underneath her chin gripping it tightly.

He is so close to her now she can feel his warm breath on her cheeks.

"That time of year?" She asks confused, her eyes looking up to watch his facial expressions.

Alastor leans in closer resting his forehead against hers as their breathing synchronises.

"Mating season my dear, I'm in rut"

Shock paints across her face as she starts to stutter ‘rut? As in…’

"I-I thought you didn't usually like se-”

His voice is low, breathing laboured as his breath tickles her skin causing her cheeks to heat up at the close contact.

"you're right I don't usually enjoy... physical touch... but my instincts are becoming too difficult to control"

His body almost trembles as his claws grip her bed sheets "you're one of oldest and closest friends my dear if it's going to happen... I want it to be you"

She shakes her head slightly as he rests his nose against her own "don't want to make you feel uncomfortable or make you do something you'll regret"

"I'm slowly losing my mind here dear"

The demon pushes her back as his voice drops to a whisper.

"I've managed to resist as much as possible but it physically hurts"

He raises his hands slowly to brush her fringe away revealing her forehead as he almost nuzzles against the soft skin.

"please..." he pleads as his voice cracks.

Her eyebrows furrow unsure if this is something he actually wants.

"Only if you're sure Alastor, I don't want..." she whispers slowly, lifting her hand to push the soaked hair away from his eyes.

Alastor shakes his head, growing frustrated and desperate.

"I want this. I need this"

His voice trembles with desperation as his body shakes, the heat coming from his body almost burning her own as she attempts to soothe him.

"Be a doll darling and help me…”

"Okay" she whispers, hands trailing down his cheeks to rest on his jaw as she tugs his face down ever so slightly to brush her lips against his in a feather light kiss.

Alastor tries to hold back, tries to be gentle with her but he's feeling so needy his body has a mind of its own, his fingers grasping at her arms pulling her body close to his own

A whine leaves her lips as his body dwarfs her own, pushing her down onto her back. Her hair is splayed out over her pillows as his large body leans over her own.

His breath becomes ragged as his body reacts to their close proximity. His hips rock forward, the growing tent in his pants pressing against her body and causing her cheeks to flush brightly.

"You're body is so soft my dear"

His voice breaks as he trails kisses along her neck, his large sharp teeth nipping at her throat moving down to her collarbone.

Alastor can't help but groan as his heated body touches hers, need drumming through his veins as he rocks his hips into her body showing her how desperate he is for release.

His long fingers have her hands pinned down so he has full control.

His tongue slips out to softly lick the underside of her collarbone, his breath hot against her skin as he moves one hand to grip her own, his claws sinking into her flesh.

His mouth leaves her neck as he trails kisses along the side of her nose, neck and cheeks before finally settling back on her lips, his breathing growing heavy.

Once satisfied he pulls back, tearing off his red blazer jacket throwing it somewhere to the side before starting on his bow tie and shirt letting them land beside his jacket.

With his heated chest exposed Y/N uses the opportunity to let her fingers explore, they trail over his pecs to his sides before travelling upwards to his neck pulling his body back to her own.

Alastor lets out a low groan as his body reacts to her hands, his breath growing deeper as she moves her hands over his body.

His claws bite into the bed sheets causing small rivets to appear in the fabric.

"Dear" He mutters as his voice breaks

"I don't think I can resist much longer…”

Her slender fingers move quickly, lifting her shirt over her head and throwing it off to the side. Next she unclips her bra sighing in relief as cold air hits her nipples.

She gives Alastor a small smirk as she sees his eyes raking over her bare body.

Alastor's pupils contract as she removes her clothing, he takes in every inch of her exposed body as he watches her movements with an intense gaze.

His eyes trace her curves, looking her up and down with a look of approval before he opens his mouth to compliment her, his voice cracking.

"You've got to be one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen"

A low possessive growl leaves his throat as he uses his clawed fingers to shred her skirt, throwing the pieces on the floor.

"Mine”

She nods whimpering softly, trailing her hands down her body rubbing over her nipples then moving down to her panties.

She pulls them down and throws them off to the side, spreading her legs for Alastor to see how soaked she is, her small fingers rub small circles against her clit as Alastor's hungry eyes watch every moment.

A growl leaves his chest again as he watches her fingers move over herself spreading the wetness over her folds, his breathing rapidly increasing as she toys with herself.

"So adorable..."

His words leave his lips as low rumbles as he stares at her body, his jaw growing tighter and the muscles in his body tensing as he watches her with such a hungry look.

Alastor moves his hands to her thighs spreading them impossibly wide so he can slide between them and better watch her movements, tongue peaking out to lick over his lips.

Having Alastor's dark eyes watching her makes her heart thud rapidly in her chest, tilting her head back as she enters two fingers into her dripping pussy.

With her head tilted back Alastor can see every mark he's left across her neck making his hands clench down on her thighs possessively.

Alastor's eyes flicker between the marks he's left on her skin and her wet heat.

His fingers are digging into her thighs as he watches her with hunger, Alastor's breath catches in his throat as he watches her movements, his teeth gritting with each thrust of her fingers.

"Need a taste…”

Wrapping his fingers around her wrist he pulls removing her fingers from her body, groaning as he watches her slick dripping from her fingers.

He moves quickly, pulling her fingers forward and into his waiting mouth, his tongue lapping at the digits with a moan as he tastes her juices.

Alastor grunts in approval as his tongue laps at her fingers, his chest heaving as his body reacts to her taste.

"More..." he grumbles greedily before his teeth drag along the soft skin of her hand as his tongue continues to lick away at her juices.

His body is growing more desperate for release, his breath becoming more shaky.

Watching the demon almost devour her fingers sends fresh need throbbing through her body as she whines "need you Alastor"

His lips curl into a cruel smirk as he lets her hand drop to the bed.

"So eager~"

He grins leaning down over her body making sure his growing length is pressed against her bare body, his eyes growing hot as he meets her gaze.

"I'm going to make you scream darling"

His voice is heavy with desire as he starts to lean in for a kiss.

Y/N reciprocates his kiss greedily as her own need grows, her hands drop to his pants tugging them down along with his boxers, finally releasing his length as a long moan leaves his lips.

Her fingers wrap around his dick, moving her hand down his length feeling it throb in her hand.

The demon's eyes roll back in his head as he feels her warm hands wrap around his length, a groan rumbling deep in his throat. He arches his back into her touch, his hips bucking slightly as she begins to stroke him “don't be a tease now dear”

Alastor growls low in his throat, thrusting his hips forward as he feels the tight heat engulf him causing them both to moan loudly as he fills her to the brim.

His fingers curl around her legs wrapping them around his hips as he starts to thrust into her.

Y/N's eyes roll back as Alastor sets an almost bruising pace, her arms looping around his head to keep her steady.

Her breaths come out as little hiccups as Alastor's thrusts push her further up the bed.

The demon's thrusts grow harder and faster, his hips slamming against hers as he takes her with a feral growl. His monocle slips from his eye, clattering to the floor as he loses himself in the primal need to claim and breed.

His hands reach out to grip onto the bed, his claws sinking into the mattress as the pleasure overwhelms his body.

Sharp nails nip into the skin of Alastor's neck as he pounds into her, her head tipping back burying into the pillows as all thoughts fly out of her head.

"A-A... Al..." her soft moans are muffled as his head dips to press needy kisses to her lips.

His growl vibrates throughout his body as he feels her nails dig into his skin, her voice sending shivers down his spine.

He bites down on her lip, his tongue flicking over the wound, licking up the blood he's drawn as hunger claws at his chest.

Alastor's rough and fast pace starts to rock the bed against the wall, every thrust causing the bed to shake. Her moans and whines increase in volume.

His hips slam into hers over and over again, his cock buried deep inside her as he takes what he wants.

“Look at my good girl, taking me so well…”

With a feral growl, Alastor picks up the pace even more, his hips slamming into hers in a primal rhythm. His eyes wild with lust and possession as he takes her, his body trembling as he tries to control his demonic strength.

"QɄłɆ₮ ĐɆ₳Ɽ, your sweet sounds are for my ears Ø₦ⱠɎ”

Alastor's deer-like ears twitching madly as they react to each sound that leaves her throat.

Y/N's so lost in the pleasure the demon is giving her that she doesn't realise the long dark antlers that have started to sprout from his red locks.

Her eyes squeezed shut with her hand slapped over her mouth as she attempted to quieten down her noises.

Y/N's muffled whines pitch in volume as pleasure courses through her veins.

"A-Al... 'm c-close" she whimpers, pulling his body down to hers, pulling him so close his chest is slotted against her own.

Her fingers slip between their bodies to rub tight circles against her swollen clit, her walls clenching down on Alastor's cock as her thighs shake against his bucking hips.

Alastor feels the pleasure building within him, his body tensing as he reaches his climax. His eyes squeezed shut as he thrust harder into her one last time, his hot seed filling her up with each thrust.

Feeling Alastor come undone and throb against her walls sendings her over the edge, her body stiffening as she cums hard with Alastor's cock bullying her sweet spot.

Almost instinctively as he's climaxing Alastor buries his face in the crook of Y/N’s neck, licking a long stripe up the sweaty skin before his long sharp teeth sink into the soft supple skin. He keeps his teeth in place until she's finished cumming on his cock, finally pulling away he licks up the blood that slowly weeps out of the holes. He's smirking proudly while looking at the marks that are scattered across her upper body.

She's panting hard, her fingers trailing up to her neck to feel the marks Alastor has left behind as she's held close to Alastor's body, they stay slotted together until both of their breathing starts to settle down.

As their breathing slows, Alastor opens his eyes to look down at Y/N, a satisfied smirk on his face. He leans in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead before pulling out of her with a soft pop, flopping down on the bed beside her.

Y/N turns to lay on her side, head propped up on her hand as she watches his face.

"Feeling better?" she can't help but giggle as his head turns to look at her.

"Much," he replies with a chuckle, humming as he runs his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down. He glances back at her and smirks "for now”

He chuckles softly, enjoying her wide eyed reaction to his words. His long arms reach out cradling her to his body as he strokes her hair "come rest for now dear, you're going to need it”

She gulps as he smiles at her deviously.

Back in the main seating area of the lobby the group sat together looking thoroughly traumatised at hearing the pairs… activities.

Sir Pentious is covering the ears of his little egg boys, Angel has a knowing smirk on his face watching as Husk shakes his head muttering curses under his breath, Nifty thankfully is nowhere to be seen and Vaggie is holding Charlie close as Charlie's eyes are wide, her mouth dropped open in shock.

The room is eerily quiet, no one daring to break the uncomfortable silence until Charlie clears her throat “at least they're done now, right?…” She looks to Vaggie for moral support as Angel Dust bursts out laughing "who knew tall, dark and creepy could fuck" He's holding his stomach and shaking his head as he walks to the bar.

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soaps-mohawk · 2 months

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 8: The Thing About Ghost

Summary: You should have expected something bad would happen. You just didn't expect this. Perhaps something good could come of it after all.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, slight Gaz x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, PTSD, nightmares, violence, medical stuff

A/N: I started this chapter this morning. It just came spilling forth and thus you're getting a bonus update this week. I'm honestly so glad to have this one done. Now I can finally say something more than "you'll see" when you ask about Ghost.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You reach a hand out from under the mountain of blankets, fumbling blindly across your nightstand until you reach your vibrating phone. You pull it under the blankets, blinking blearily at the name on the screen.

Kyle.

“Hello?” You mumble sleepily, your eyes already drooping again.

“Oh, so you can hear your phone vibrating but not me knocking at your door for fifteen minutes?”

You let out a quiet groan, burrowing back under the covers. “Comfy.”

“I’m sure you are, but it’s breakfast time, love.”

You let out a quiet groan, still not moving. “Not hungry.”

“You need to eat, love. You’ll be grumpy all morning if you don’t.”

He’s right. If you skip breakfast, you’ll get snippy and hangry. Yet, the comfort of your bed is calling, threatening to lull you back to sleep again.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me again.”

You startle back awake, groaning. “I wasn’t.”

“Come on, love. I don’t want to have to get Soap to kick in your door.”

You let out a loud, dramatic groan before grumbling acquiescence. You slide out from under your covers until you’re sitting on the floor, rubbing your eyes. You don’t bother hanging up as you set your phone on the nightstand before crawling over to the door, just close enough that you can reach up and unlock it.

You sit back on the floor, hair mussed and still in your pajamas. The door slowly swings open, Gaz leaning against the doorframe. He smiles softly down at you as you yawn, blinking up at him sleepily.

“That’s cute, but if we don’t get to breakfast, Price might send the cavalry searching.” He says.

You grumble, pushing yourself up to stand before you grab a sweatshirt and shoes, running your fingers through your hair to make it at least semi-presentable.

You lean against Gaz as you walk to the mess, resting your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. It’s quieter in the mess than normal, Gaz leading you through the line to get food, making your tray for you before you shuffle over to the table where the others are. You sit down next to Price, letting out a yawn as you stare sleepily down at your tray.

“Was starting tae get worried about ye.” Soap grins at you.

“Yeah, heard her phone vibrating but not me knocking for fifteen minutes.” Gaz says, taking the seat next to you.

“I was comfy.” You shrug, picking up your fork.

“Guess I don’t have to bother asking how you slept.” Price says, grinning fondly down at you.

“Like a rock.” You say, before taking a bite of sausage.

“Good.” He says, almost beaming with pride that your little shopping spree yesterday worked, and that the added comfort in your room helped.

Your face warms under his gaze, practically able to feel him preening with pride. It makes something twist in your stomach, knowing that you made him feel that way.

The moment is broken as Ghost sighs, standing from the table to dump his tray and leave the mess.

Soap shakes his head as you watch him go, a frown pulling at your brows. “Don’ mind him. He could do with some soft blankets and more pillows of his own.”

The image of Ghost curled up with fluffy blankets and a stuffed strawberry of his own has you laughing loudly, not even bothered by the looks you get from the tables around you.

You lounge against Gaz’s chest, his arm wrapped around your chest. Your back vibrates every so often as he chuckles at something that happens on the TV. You’re focused on your book, content with a lazy Sunday afternoon.

“Don’ you two look cozy,” Soap says entering the rec room. “Don’ mind me.” He kneels on the couch next to your feet before flattening himself out between your legs until his head lands in your lap.

Your cheeks warm as he sighs out a breath, making himself comfortable. You set your book aside, electing to run your fingers through his mohawk. You wonder if you can put him to sleep that way like you almost achieved with Gaz. He lets out a content hum as your nails scratch at his scalp, running your fingers over the short cropped sides of his head.

You let yourself relax further against Gaz, absentmindedly massaging Soap’s scalp. Your gaze is on the TV but you’re not really watching, too caught up in the bliss of the moment to really care.

The moment is ruined as Soap’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He lets out a groan, shuffling around to fish it out, lifting his head to stare at the screen.

“Have to take this.” He murmurs, pushing himself up off of your lap.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips before leaning over your shoulder, kissing Gaz. Your eyes widen as he leaves the room, your heart starting to race. Of course they kiss each other. It’s probably the most natural thing in the world to them. You’ve just never seen it.

Much less be stuck in the middle of it.

The images begin to flood your mind, your face getting warmer and warmer. The mental imagine of being sandwiched between them while they kiss over your shoulder, hands everywhere, skin against skin.

“Enjoyed that, did you?” Gaz’s voice is husky in your ear, his lips brushing the delicate skin.

Of course he can smell the hike of sweetness in your scent. His hand drops from where it had been wrapped across your chest, his hand trailing down until it rests against your stomach. His lips press against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, tongue darting out to taste.

“Soon.” He murmurs, before leaning back, resting against the couch once more.

Your face is burning hot, heart thumping in your chest. A shiver runs down your spine at the idea, your body relaxing further back against Gaz’s, your stomach fluttering as the warmth of his hand seeps through your shirt.

You’re ready when he knocks, standing in front of your door again. You open it before he’s finished knocking, his hand falling back to his side. He stares at you for a breath before he turns on his heel, making his way from the barracks.

You scramble after him as usual, following him into the gym and into the private room. You follow his lead of removing your shoes and jacket, falling into what’s become a routine for the two of you.

“We’ll work on combos again.” He says, wrapping your hands for you, before his own.

You go back through what you had done last time, all the combos you’d learned. Well, he told you. You’ve forgotten most of them after the exhaustion and a couple days off. You can tell he’s agitated already as he walks you through the combos, correcting your punches and stance.

“Move your feet when you punch.” He says, kicking your back leg out from under you, dropping you onto your knee. “Otherwise you’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re going to hurt me doing shit like that.” You murmur, fixing your stance again.

He grabs punch mitts, moving to stand in front of you. He calls out numbers, working through combos and punches. You miss a lot, still trying to memorize which punch belongs to which number and which order to swing your fists in. Part of you wants to drive your fist straight up the middle and into his face.

A sudden hit to your shoulder sends you sprawling to the mat. You lay there for a second before looking up at him in shock.

“What was that?” You say, getting back to your feet.

“Dodge or block, just like I taught you.” He says, swinging at you again with the mitt, forcing you back a step. “Your opponent won’t be standing still. You have to know how to throw punches and avoid the ones coming at you.”

You huff out a breath, trying to stay aware and throw the right punch. You don’t manage to block or dodge every one, your shoulders getting sore as he hits you. He’s not pulling his punches by much, and you can imagine the bruises you’ll sport later. You’re getting tired fast, the combination of the physical effort and the brain power growing to be too much at this intensity so soon.

A solid hit to the center of your chest as you sprawling out on the mat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a horrible wheezing sound. For a moment you think he might have actually injured you, fear in your eyes as he looms over you.

“Get up.” He says, shoulders squared like he’s the one in a fight.

“Give me a second.” You say, still trying to catch your breath. “I need a break.”

“There are no breaks in a fight.” He says.

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think maybe I should just give up and die if I ever get in a fight.” You snap.

Something flashes through his gaze, the mitts hitting the floor with a thud. He grabs the front of your tank top, lifting you to your feet. He holds you in front of him, leaning down until you’re eye to eye.

“You think it’s that easy to die? When the time comes you can just lay down and let it happen?” He growls, emotions flickering like flames in his eyes.

“If this is what it’s going to take to live, then yeah.” You say, not backing down despite the prickling feeling at the back of your neck.

“You have no idea what it’s like, when death is looming over you. The fear, the regret, the overwhelming push to fight to survive.” He’s close enough that if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you could have felt his breath on your face.

“I don’t know because I’m not like you. I’m not a fighter, I’m not trained like you. When I asked you to teach me to defend myself, this is not what I meant.” You say, shoving against his chest.

It takes him by surprise enough that he stumbles back a step. He catches himself easily, hands closing into fists at his sides. He’s ready to fight, you can see it. You’ve unlocked the alpha, angered the beast within him.

His scent bowls over you, sending you scrambling back out of instinct. The prickling at the back of your neck intensifies and you try to clear your head, preparing you for this fight. You don’t stand a chance, you know that. Going off instinct alone, he could overpower you easily.

Despite everything in your brain telling you to run away, you do the opposite, racing towards him. He catches you before you can hit him, your feet leaving the ground as he slams you into the mat. You kick and claw at him, catching him in the ribs but it doesn’t even seem to phase him.

“What was your plan?” He growls, pressing harder against your chest as he keeps you pinned. “Try to take me off my feet? I’m bigger and stronger than you. That’s never going to work.”

“Then stop being such a dick!” You yell, landing a kick against his hip. “You’re just a bully. A big bully. You’re just like my dad!”

Both of you freeze at your words, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. His hand closes around the neck of your tanktop and for half a moment you’re scared he might sink his hand in and pull your spine right out through your chest. Instead he releases you, pushing himself up with a growl and making for his shoes.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he slips them on, grabbing his things before leaving out the door.

You stare at the door wide eyed as it slams closed. You’re still laying there, chest heaving. You stare at it, half expecting it to open back up, for him to come back. He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? He’s not supposed to. You’re supposed to have one of them with you at all times.

You push yourself up onto shaky legs, slowly approaching the door, half expecting it to fly back open. Maybe he’s just standing right outside, maybe he’s just taking a breath and clearing his head. The handle is cold against your heated skin as you pull it open, sticking your head out.

The hallway is empty.

You quickly duck back inside, closing the door. He wouldn’t leave you. He wouldn’t leave you. Maybe he went to the bathroom. Maybe he just needed a moment to clear his head. Maybe he’s coming back.

You sink onto the bench, trying to control your breathing as it starts to get heavy. You can feel that buzzing sensation in your head, your fingers and toes starting to go numb with panic. The one time you leave your phone behind, it’s the one time you need it. Maybe he’s coming back.

You continue to sit there, waiting, fingers trembling as you put your shoes back on. Someone has to notice your absence eventually. Someone will notice you’re not in your room and you’re not answering your phone. Someone will come looking.

Or is this a test?

You’re panicking now, breaths coming in short gasps. You can’t just walk out of here using the front door. There’s alphas and betas crawling all over the gym and there could be a hundred between you and the barracks now. Someone will stop you. Someone will make a scene.

You can’t reach the windows. Even then, they don’t open and it would be a straight drop to the ground on the other side. You can’t go out the front, but there’s an emergency exit just a few feet down the hallway the other direction. The medical center is the closest building to the gym. Even if Dr. Keller isn’t in her office this early, any of them would be the most likely to help you, to alert Price to your abandoned state.

You have to get out of the gym. Your scent will reach the others in the building eventually, and someone will take notice. Someone will be bold enough to come after the lone omega. You’re panicking, your entire body trembling. Just out the door to the left and through the emergency exit. Then it’s just a few hundred yards to the medical center and then down the hall to Dr. Keller’s office.

You can make it. You spent three months running with the CIA. Speed has always been your strength. Get out the door before anyone notices. You have to get out before someone notices and blocks your exit.

Your mind goes blank as you throw open the door, feet slipping as you race around the corner and down to the emergency door. You don’t even feel the ache in your shoulder as you jam yourself against the door, not caring if it sets off an alarm as you shove your way out to the cool morning air. Your feet move without your brain needing to tell you as you sprint towards the medical building. There’s no one outside, no one milling in the area. No one sees you as you race through the doors, the automatic sliding doors almost catching you as you speed through them and down the hall. Your shoes squeak on the laminate floor, squealing as you slide to a stop in front of Dr. Keller’s office.

You don’t even check if the light is on before you’re frantically knocking. Your breaths are coming in shallow gasps, black dots dancing in your vision as you fight to get air into your lungs. You need to be somewhere safe, you need somewhere safe before you pass out. You can’t pass out in the hallway. It’s not safe.

You nearly fall as the door swings open, stumbling into the office. Dr. Keller says your name but you barely hear it, your legs giving out. She catches you before you fall, easing you into a chair. You sink into the plushness, shaking violently as you stare at her with wide, panicked eyes.

“What is it?” She asks. “What happened?”

“He...he left me!” You sob, your body starting to curl in on itself. “He...he just left me!”

Dr. Keller’s voice sounds far away as she speaks, your vision starting to tunnel. You barely register the blanket being draped around your shoulders, the soft fabric tickling your cheeks.

You don’t hear Dr. Keller on the phone, far too gone in your distress to hear the urgency in her normally calm and composed tone.

Dr. Keller opens the door almost as soon as the knock sounds. Price is slightly out of breath, having reached the office faster than she had expected him to.

“She’s in distress.” Dr. Keller explains as she lets Price into the office, shutting and locking the door behind him. “I need you to be clear headed.” She tells the alpha. “We can worry about why later, right now we need to get her calmed down, understood?”

“Yes, Doctor” He nods, fighting the urge to recoil at the sharp bitter tang of omega distress heavy in the air.

He’s angry, beyond angry but he knows he can’t let that take over right now.

“You’ll need to hold her.” Dr. Keller says, approaching where you’re sitting on the chair. You’re hunched over, arms clutched to your chest as you gasp and wheeze, almost hyperventilating. “It might be easiest on the floor.”

It’s like moving a stone statue as he takes you into his arms, muscles tense and joints locked as your body attempts to protect itself. He sinks to the floor with you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you to support you.

“Slow deep breaths.” Dr. Keller pushes your head against his chest. “Get her to copy you. If her blood pressure gets too high, or she passes out we might risk losing her to her omega, and that will be dangerous for all of us.”

“I know.” Price says as he puts a hand on your head, keeping you against his chest. “I’ve seen it happen.” He presses his cheek against the top of your head, taking slow, even breaths. “Come on, sweetheart. Alpha’s got you. Need you to breathe for me.”

Dr. Keller slips a blood pressure monitor around your arm, fighting the stiffness of your limbs as she sticks a pulse monitor to your chest. Price continues to speak to you, trying to get you to relax.

Slowly as the minutes pass, your breathing begins to slow. Dr. Keller monitors your blood pressure and heart rate, watching it slowly begin to come down as the presence of your alpha soothes your distressing omega.

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your arm gently.

Your breathing slows, but your breaths are still heavy and shaky as you slowly begin to sink into Price’s hold, your muscles slowly relaxing from their tense state. You let out a high-pitched whine as the discomfort begins to set in, tears leaking from your eyes.

“I know.” Dr. Keller says gently. “You’re doing so good.”

You begin to shake uncontrollably again, Price tightening his hold around you. His hand moves to the back of your neck instinctively, gently massaging the tense muscles.

“It’s just the adrenaline.” Dr. Keller explains, moving to the closet and pulling out a stuffed bear. She kneels back down, working your arms away from your chest just enough that she can slip the bear into your arms. “Squeeze that for me.” She says, pushing on your arms until you take over, squeezing the bear to your chest.

You’re still crying as the shaking slowly begins to subside, another whine leaving your lips. You continue to squeeze the bear to your chest, brows pulling into a frown.

“Don’ feel good.” You slur, taking a deep breath in.

“I know, honey, I know.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your leg. “You did really good, coming down from that. Just keep breathing and relaxing for me.”

You continue to follow Price’s breathing, trying to will your muscles to relax in your exhausted state. Price continues stroking the back of your neck, his heart thumping steadily beneath your ear.

“One more squeeze on your arm and then I can take the monitor off.” Dr. Keller says, taking your blood pressure one more time. “It’s normal if she’s a bit achy and sore for a couple days.” She explains to Price. “She might be a bit disoriented later too. The best thing she can do is rest and someone should stay with her at all times just in case.”

Price leans his chin against your head, fighting the anger building within him. Something happened to cause this, and he has an inkling as to what it was. He tightens his hold around you as you sink into him even more, the shaking starting to subside.

“You don’t sedate for distress?” He asks as Dr. Keller removes the heart monitor and the blood pressure cuff from you.

Dr. Keller shakes her head. “Sedation can make distress worse in some cases. It’s jarring and disorienting and in some cases the omega might wake up and continue distressing. It’s only useful in cases of an actual medical emergency, or if there’s no alpha to provide a sense of safety and the omega starts to take over. Then they become a danger to everyone around them and themselves.”

“I know how devastating that can be.” He says, staring down at you. “The worst people in the world like to use omegas as shields and bait. Sometimes there’s no other way...they get caught in the middle of bullets flying and explosions. The scent of blood and fear around them.” He shakes his head. “Even if they survive that, even if you save them, it’s too much and you just lose them to the omega.”

“It makes me sick.” Dr. Keller shakes her head. “They’re human beings just like you and me and they get treated like chattel. They’re seen as nothing but property and valued only by what they can be used for. Omegas are incredible beings. In ancient cultures they were revered, worshiped. Some cultures believed they were closest to the gods, and some thought they were gods sent to earth to bless those that deserved it. How far humanity has fallen.”

“You have a lot of respect for omegas.” Price says.

“Respect, love, care. Someone in this world has to. That’s why I became a specialist.” Dr. Keller smiles. “Didn’t think I’d end up here, but if I can help even just one omega, that’s more than enough for me.” She pushes herself up to stand. “Let’s get her back to the barracks. She’ll be more comfortable in a familiar atmosphere.”

Price pushes himself to stand, keeping you close to his chest. Dr. Keller locks her office behind her before following Price as he carries you from the medical center.

“She needs to eat.” Dr. Keller says. “She won’t feel like it, but she needs the calories after that. She might be emotional and resistant for a bit, but once she’s fully awake she’ll be alright. Well...that might be a bad way to describe it. If anything happens, or she starts getting worse. Call me.”

“I will.” Price tightens his grip for a moment, pushing down the anger. He can’t let it take over yet. He still has you to take care of. He still has his omega to look after.

Dr. Keller opens the door to the barracks for him, watching him walk down the hallway for a moment before turning and leaving.

Price opens your door, carrying you into your room. He lays you on your bed, making sure you’re comfortable before he steps back out the door. The scent of distress is heavy on him still, as is his building anger.

“MacTavish! Garrick!” He shouts, both of the beta’s doors opening almost immediately. “Have either of you seen Lieutenant Riley this morning?”

Johnny frowns, both of them approaching the obviously agitated alpha. “Naw, I havenae seen him all mornin’.”

“I thought he was training this morning.” Kyle says, a frown pulling at his brows too. “Did something happen?”

He steps back into your room, the two betas following. Kyle sucks in a breath as he stares at you laying there, seemingly peacefully but the quickly suffocating scent tells him otherwise. He moves to your side, sinking down on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Wha’ happened?” Johnny asks, a subtle tremble to his voice.

“There was an incident this morning.” Price says, digging into the very depths of his training to keep his head on straight. “Sent her into distress.”

“That bastard.” Johnny growls. “When I find him-”

“Easy.” Price says, putting a hand on the beta’s chest to stop him from his rampage. “You and I are going to get some food and then come back here. Garrick, you stay with our girl. If anything starts to go wrong, you call Dr. Keller first, then me. Then, I’ve got ghost hunting to do.”

“Ye sure we’re alright, bein’ in her nest like this?”

“It’s not much of a nest. Besides, our girl needs us.”

“‘S cozy, that’s for sure.”

“Could get used to it.”

You have no control over the whine that’s pulled from your chest as you’re thrust into consciousness. You feel a bit like you’ve been hit by a truck, tossed from an airplane with no parachute, and like you just ran a marathon with no training, all at once.

“Easy, love.”

Hands smooth over your face, calluses rough on your burning skin. You feel hot, yet not warm enough at the same time. Your skin is prickling, needing freedom but to be held tighter than you already are. Someone is in front of you, their hand the one on your face. Someone else is behind you, wrapped around your back, arms keeping you held tightly against them.

“Can ye open yer eyes for me, pretty girl?”

Your eyelids feel like they’re made of lead. You don’t want to. You want to keep your eyes closed and sink back into oblivion where nothing hurts and you’re not confused. You let out another quiet whine before you force your eyes open, staring up at the blurry shape above you.

“That’s it, lovely.” Soap says, his fingers still stroking your face. “That’s a good girl.”

“Soap?” You whine, your voice cracking.

He shushes you, tucking your face against his neck, letting you inhale his scent. “We've got ye, lamb.”

Another hand trails down your arm, gently squeezing. You're sore, even your breaths make your body ache.

“You remember what happened, love?�� Gaz says quietly, his hand the one gently stroking your arm.

You inhale sharply, trying to clear the fog in your mind. “Ghost...” You breathe, the images coming to your mind but the words are lost. “Left me.”

“Aye.” Soap says, sounding hurt and disappointed. “He was being a right bastard and left ye in the gym alone. Ye ran for the med center. Found the doctor.”

“I...” You take a shaky breath, remembering the panic, the feeling of getting further and further from your body. “I was distressing.”

Gaz hums, wrapping his arms around you. “You distressed, love. Dr. Keller got Price in there in time, worked you through it.”

You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself go limp between them. It makes sense why you feel so awful, why your head is swimming. “What time is it?”

“Just after lunch.” Gaz says.

“Gave us hell tryin’ tae feed ye.” Soap says. “Half fightin’ us, half out of it.”

“Ghost?” You ask, almost afraid to find out the answer.

“Got quite the verbal lashing from Cap'n Price.” Soap says. “Was gone for an hour yellin’ at him.”

It doesn't feel like enough, but you won't admit that out loud. You lean back against Gaz, letting both of their scents wash over you.

“How do you feel, love?” Gaz asks.

“Hurts.” You murmur, wrapping an arm around Soap.

“I know. I'm sorry you had to go through this.” Gaz says pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Just relax, love. We've got you.”

You let your eyes slip closed again, relaxing between the two betas. You don't care that they're in your room, squished together in your bed with you. You need them and their support.

You'd prefer having Price too, but you won’t dare say that out loud.

You fade in and out of sleep, letting them help you up a couple times as they move around, and move you around, helping you stretch to ease the ache in your joints and muscles. You wind up laying on Soap as Gaz goes to get dinner, his arms wrapped around your middle as you rest on his chest.

“I am sorry about Simon.” He says quietly, lips brushing your forehead.

“Don’t apologize for him.” You murmur. “It was partially my fault. I was egging him on.”

“He shouldnae done tha’ though.” Soap says. “Leavin’ ye like that. ‘S dangerous, and not just for you.”

“I did good. I got out without running into anyone.” You say, trying to reassure yourself before you lose it again.

“You did perfectly.” A voice says, making you jump.

Soap gently rubs your back as you blink up at Price. He’s standing in the doorway, holding two trays of food. You hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Go on and eat in the mess, Johnny.” Price says, setting the trays on your desk. “I’ve got her for now.”

Soap gently eases you off of him, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone with Price. He carries over a tray, setting it on your nightstand before kneeling down in front of you. He turns on your lamp, illuminating the room more than it was with your nightlight and the fading light outside.

“How do you feel?” He asks, taking your hand in his.

“Sore.” You say, squeezing his fingers. “But less than I was earlier. Moving around helped.” You sniffle, wiping the tear that escapes. “A bit weepy too.”

Price smiles softly at you. “That’s expected. I’d be more worried if you weren’t.” He cups your face. “You did the right thing, taking the back exit and going for Dr. Keller’s office.”

“Was closer.” You murmur. “Less risk of running into someone.”

Price nods. “I doubt anyone would have stopped you, but that is still a risk.” He grabs the tray from the nightstand. “Eat up. I know you don’t feel like it, but you need it.”

It’s almost like he read your mind. He moves to your desk, sitting in the chair. The food looks less appetizing than usual, but you know he’s right. Omegas expend a lot of energy while in distress. You’ll feel better if you eat. From the sounds of it, Gaz and Soap had attempted to feed you while you were still out of it, though you’re not sure how successful they were.

You eat mostly in silence, but you don’t mind. You don’t have the brain power to think enough for a conversation, and you’re more than happy to just bask in Price’s calming presence.

Gaz and Soap return after dinner, Price taking his leave again. You’re sure he’s busy, especially after this incident, but you can’t help but feel the sting of it just a bit. He had helped you through your distress, calming you down. You want him to lay next to you, to hold the back of your neck and remind you that he’s here, that he’s got you.

That he’ll never leave you like that.

Instead you curl up between Soap and Gaz, letting the calming present of betas relax you back to sleep.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. Soap is gone, but Gaz is still pressed against your back, breathing evenly. You grab one of the phones off the nightstand, glancing at the time. It’s just past one a.m. You’re feeling thirsty again, and like you need to stretch your legs. Gaz is coiled around you, and you’re not sure how to get out without waking him up. You don’t want to disturb him, and you want a second to breathe and clear your head without the influence of his scent.

You carefully roll away enough to grab the strawberry pillow off the floor from where it likely rolled after Soap left. You slowly ease it between your bodies until he’s wrapped around the pillow, settling with a sigh. You let out a quiet breath, rising from the bed slowly and padding quietly to the door. Your eyes are on him as you unlock it, slipping out quickly. You leave it cracked open before sneaking down the hallway towards the rec room.

It’s quiet in the barracks, almost eerily so as you slip into the empty room, heading for the fridge. You stand there, half debating on a beer instead of water. Perhaps a little alcohol might numb at least some of the ache in your joins, or at least clear your mind a bit. You hate the taste of beer, though, and Gaz would know immediately.

You sigh, grabbing a water, the back of your neck prickling as you stand up. You close the fridge door, whirling around, a scream caught in your throat.

“Are you going to scream?” Ghost’s voice rumbles from behind his mask. He’s standing just inside the rec room, blocking the doorway.

“Are you going to hurt me?” You ask, flattening yourself against the fridge.

“Why would I do that?” He has the gaul to sound almost confused.

“You seemed pretty eager to this morning.” You say, clutching the water bottle to your chest. “You abandoned me.”

“I didn’t. I was right behind you the whole time, until you went into the med center.” He explains, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” You snap, getting agitated by the alpha and how he’s treated you thus far. “You just up and left me by myself in a vulnerable place. How was I supposed to know you were still there? For all I knew you were halfway back to the barracks. Was I just supposed to blindly trust that you would be there, that you would follow me if I decided to brave walking past a bunch of worked up alphas? I can’t trust that. I can’t trust you like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you haven’t given me a reason to!” You almost shout it, just managing to keep control over your volume so you don’t accidentally wake the others. “You don’t like me, you keep treating me like shit. Just going off of that, I wouldn’t put it past you to just up and leave me to fend for myself.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“But you did! You did today! You put me in danger! I distressed because of you! I haven’t distressed since-” You cut yourself off, deflating a bit at your near slip of words. You’re not sure you want to open that can of worms, allow for that kind of vulnerability with the alpha that had nearly killed you earlier. But, maybe you do need that kind of vulnerability. Maybe he needs it. “Since I was taken to the institute.” You finish, feeling yourself deflating a bit.

Tears prick at your eyes, his own figure visibly deflating a bit. That scent is back, the one from a couple nights ago when you had run into him in a similar situation. You want out of here, you want back to the safety of doors around you, doors that could be opened and Ghost pulled from you easily if needed.

“Move.” You say, bravely squaring up to the alpha blocking you in.

He says your name like a warning, not budging an inch.

“Move!” You shout, going for his middle with your shoulder, but he’s faster, catching you before you can hit him.

“Calm down.” He growls, trying to hold your squirming form.

One scream. One scream and the others would be on you. How quickly could Ghost act, though? How quickly could his hand close around your throat and squeeze, or maybe even twist?

“Calm down!” He growls again, forcing you backwards.

Your feet slip on the tile, sending you back onto your back. You wince at the jolt to your already sore body, the air leaving your lungs in a harsh gasp. Ghost sinks down to the floor next to the couch, leaning against the side of it like he can’t bear to hold himself up anymore.

“It was a long time ago.” He starts, the tiredness evident in his voice. His eyes are on the floor in front of you, not even looking up as you push yourself up onto your elbows. “Back when I was a newly made Sergeant. My first deployment, first mission. We were hunting a man, real scum of the earth, chasing him through the jungle.”

You almost want to stop him, unsure if he can even be telling you this, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything.

“Things got complicated when he swept through a village, picked up all the local omegas. He was using them as human shields. We cornered him in some run down shack. Him, his men, and the poor omegas. The commanding officer in charge of the mission started hostage negotiations, tried to get him to let the omegas go. He knew he’d lost, he’d never get out of there without being captured or killed.” Ghost shakes his head, letting out a heavy breath. “So he agreed. The commanding officer had to have known. We all should have known.”

He goes silent, the quiet of the barracks and the world outside almost eerie. You’re sitting up now, almost holding your breath in anticipation. You’re not sure he’s ever spoken this much to you at once before, much less something that’s obviously so vulnerable, and potentially confidential.

“He sent the omegas out in all directions, running straight at us. We were ordered to stay where we were. We couldn’t run out there, we couldn’t help them.” His hands close into fists, his scent souring. “They started firing at the omegas. There was one running straight at me. I still remember her, the look on her face. The fear in her eyes as she raced towards me.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I remember how the blood felt splattering on my face. The bullet shot right past my ear. She fell close enough I could have reached out and touched her. Clean shot right through the back of her head.”

He shakes his head, finally looking at you. Tears have gathered in your eyes as you stare at him. His scent is sour, tinged with the tanginess that you had smelled a couple nights ago when he ran into you coming back from the rec room.

Fear.

That scent is fear.

“I still think about it. What if I had disobeyed orders? What if I had just reached out to help her? Would she have made it? Could we have brought at least one omega back to that village? Would the bullet have hit me instead?” He lets out a long breath. “I still have nightmares about it. See it clear as day, that look on her face seconds before her life ended.”

You’re moving, crawling closer to him. He doesn’t move, not even a blink or a flinch as you get closer and closer until you’re in front of him, close enough to see the light blonde color of his lashes. He still won’t look at you, his gaze on the floor as you sit in front of him.

“You saw me.” You say softly, not needing him to explain further. “Instead of some omega, it was me in your dream. You’re afraid. That’s why you treat me the way you do. You’re scared if you get close to me, if you allow me into the pack, allow me into this life, that something like that will happen to me. That’s why you were afraid that night, when I went to the rec room to grab water. You woke up from a nightmare about me.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to. You’re beginning to understand him now. One moment of vulnerability and the complex specter that is Ghost is beginning to become clearer and clearer to you. He’s beginning to take shape, forming out of the mists of confusion and aggression that have plagued you since your arrival in his life.

“That doesn’t make what you did okay.” You say, breaking the eerie silence again. “It doesn’t make the way you treat me okay, but I guess...I guess I can understand why now. Why you’re so hard on me, why you resist my mere existence here. You don’t have to like me, I’d just like you to be nice to me a little bit. You’re never going to convince Soap not to pursue anything, so, you’re just going to have to get used to me being around.”

The corners of his eyes crease. It’s a half a second of movement, but you manage to catch it. He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes emotionless as they usually are when they look at you.

“I still don’t forgive you for what you did.” You say, staring up at him. “And I don’t trust you,” You pull your knees up to your chest. “But I suppose I was also a bit at fault, saying those things to you.”

“I deserved it.” He says. “I was being a dick.”

Your brows raise as you stare at him. “Are you...apologizing?”

“Don’t rub it in.” He says, the warning clear in his tone.

“Well, I guess it’s a start.” You say. “I should probably get back to bed before Gaz notices I’m gone.”

Ghost lets out a huff. “I’m surprised you escaped without him noticing.”

You shrug, pushing yourself up to stand slowly. “He’s snuggling a stuffed strawberry right now, so...that probably says a lot about one of us and I’m not sure which is worse.”

“Come on.” Ghost motions with his head. “Last thing we need is another panic at 2 am.”

“Another panic?” You ask, dropping your voice to a whisper as you leave the rec room.

Ghost chuckles. “You’ll have to ask Johnny about that one.”

You stare at him for a moment as you stand in front of your cracked door. “Goodnight, Ghost.”

He nods to you before you slip in, closing and locking the door. He stands there, listening to the bed shift as you crawl back into Kyle’s hold. He can picture the way the beta’s limbs coil around you like a snake. Would you lie facing him and cling to him like a koala? Or would you prefer facing away from him, letting him envelop you in a feeling of security and protection?

Ghost shakes his head, inhaling the faint whiff of your scent still in the air before he turns, staring at his door for a moment before moving back down the hall, slipping into Johnny’s room instead.

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 #tf 141 x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o

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fictionalmenmakemecry · 3 months

Text

Pretty Little Outfit

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x reader(fem!)

Summary: With a new job in your grasp, you decide it's time for some new work outfits. Carmy realizes that he can't get over a new skirt that you bought, only to find out you've unlocked a new kink of his.

Warnings: SMUT (fem oral), cursing, masturbation, hair pulling.

A/N: WOOOOO seeing him in the CK ad only feeds the hunger I have for him. Lord have mercy.. This man has too much of a grip on me. Let's say Carmy isn't the greatest at oral first but with a lot of practice (that I'm not against) he would have me in a chokehold. Just one night. That's all I'm asking.

Anyway.. my rant is done!

Enjoy :)

"I look ridiculous" you huffed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You self-consciously pulled at the pencil skirt that was clinging your curves.

You just got a new job and it was in the contract that formal office wear was expected. When you went into the office for the interview, you noticed no one was wearing jeans and sweaters. It was all slacks, skirts and blazers.

You had spent the day frantically running store to store trying to make a new closet for the job that you gladly accepted the previous day.

You started Monday, and you were petrified. You had experience, but you never were in such a high-end environment which you felt also had very high expectations of their employees.

You cursed to yourself as you adjusted the new bra you also bought. It was uncomfortable and tight as hell.

"Fuck" You cursed, feeling panic set in.

You turned around analyzing your clothes to realise that from the back of your white shirt, you could see your bra straps clearly. The one decent shirt you felt somewhat comfortable and it was see through.

You groaned, bringing your hands to your face. Usually, you didn't give a shit but you had a feeling HR wouldn't feel the same.

You took a deep breath in and stood up straight, looking back into the mirror.

"Good morning," you smiled brightly, pretending to lean into a handshake towards the mirror. You were trying to imagine yourself in these clothes in an unknown environment. The more you looked at yourself, the more you started to overthink.

His eyes were on you through the gap on the ajar door. His stare traveled the length of your body and paused at your hips, shifting to your ass. He bit his lip, trying to hold back any audible moan he felt climb up through his throat.

Carmy rarely ever saw you in skirts. He didn't think he had a thing for them but when he unexpectedly came home to see you in the bedroom trying on some clothes he couldn't take his eyes away.

You didn't know he was home. He felt bad spying on you, but he couldn't pull himself away.

Carmy leaned against the door frame, being careful not to make the wood creak. He watched as you bend over to grab something from the clothes bag. His eyes fell on your cleave, which showed through the reflection of the mirror. Your soft plump breasts pressing against the shirt.

He swallowed, feeling his crotch getting tighter and tighter. The material straining against his growing dick.

The thoughts that spun in his head, with your legs up on his shoulder, the skirt riding up as he drilled into you. His eyes darkened, imagining you all roughed up in your office wear. Make up smudged, skirt rolled up, shirt wrinkled. Your pretty little outfit completely fucked in. Tainted. Corrupted.

He shook his head softly, trying to clear his mind. He needed to pull himself together before he completely unraveled at the door.

You heard a gentle knock on the door. You saw Carmy enter in while looking at the mirror.

"Hi babe" you greeted, giving a soft smile.

You turned around to see his eyes locked on your body. He stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans with his arms above his head, and his mouth scrunched up like he was trying to hold himself back.

"What ya think?" You did a spin, feeling his stare.

The more he stared, the shyier you got.

"Uh y-you look unbelievable," He stuttered, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know.. I think the skirt is too tight. I can barely walk in it"

You turned back around, showing him the back of it. To which he brought his hand to his face, trying to hide the fact he was forcefully biting his lip. Your eyes flickered to him, and in that moment, you saw the haze in his eyes.

A small smirk crept up on your face.

Your hands ran over your thighs, flattening out any wrinkles in the skirt and seeing your hands travel, wanted Carmy's hands to be there even more.

You continued to look in the mirror briefly, bringing your flirtatious stare back to him through the mirror.

"What do you think about my hair up?" You gather the ends of your hair loosely, holding it there with one hand while looking at him teasingly.

He licked his dry lips and gazed at your neck. He took a couple of steps forward, getting closer behind you. You knew you had him.

You would do it every time you were on top. As you would grind on him, you would bring your hair up the same way. It would only make he want to flip you over and get to that one weak spot you had. The one angle he knew made your shake in complete pleasure. He would feel you milk him, and he would lose it.

With that thought vivid in his head, he leans down and kisses your exposed neck gently. You felt his soft lips pressed against your hot skin.

He placed his hands on your hips and moved them down your sides while you both watched him make his way to your ass.

You let out a light gasp, feeling his grip get tighter.

"Jesus- feel what you're doing to me" He whispered in your ear. You felt goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.

He leaned in closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt his stiffened dick pressed against your ass. You could feel everything in this tight skirt. His stare was dripping with lust, just want your body rubbing up against his.

"Is this a new bra?" He asked flirtatiously

His hands bring your focus up to your chest, where you watch him lightly trace his finger on top of your cup.

"Mmm hmmm" you hummed, feeling like putty in his grasp.

"Can I get a better look?" He whispered, side eyeing you in the mirror.

You nodded, angling your head to the side as he kissed you a few more times down the neck. He started to unbuttoned one button after another, starting from the bottom, making his way up. With the last button popping open, the shirt gave a peek to your new bra you were wearing. The tip of his fingers gently pulled the shirt away from you, giving him full view from the mirrors reflection.

A small croak escaped his throat, and you heard him swallow, trying to hide it.

He brought his hand up to your new bra and massaged your breast while he pulled his stare up to your eyes. He watched as yours glazed over. He continued to watch you crumble in front of him. He felt you push your ass out, asking him to grind up against you more.

"Carmy... my new clothes.." You whined, feeling yourself get more lost as he felt more of you.

"Keep the skirt on" He ordered, spinning you around and bringing his hands to your face.

"But-"

"But nothing, I'll buy you a new outfit, but.. keep it on," His stare darkened as he played with your lips.

He leaned down, kissing your neck all the way down your chest. He gave wet open kisses to the top of your breasts, massaging them with both hands. You looked down and watched his curls move as he made his way further down. You felt him hike up your skirt, giving him more access to the heat between your legs.

His fingers lightly traveled up the inside of your thighs until he felt a moist patch.

"Fuck, you're all ready for me" He moaned lightly, kissing your covered pussy.

You felt his fingers move your underwear to the side, making them slick with your arousal as he played with your folds. He focused on your clit lightly making you fall into him a little, leaning on his shoulder from the welcomed pressure of his fingers.

He smirked to himself, looking up at you as he worked his fingers back and slowly slipped them in with ease. One finger teasingly first, but he could feel your hunger for the second. With ease, he added another finger.

"Oh shit," you gasped, spreading your legs more trying to hold yourself up.

"Mhmm, good girl," he praised, gently pumping his fingers out of you.

One of your hands went to his hair, and you placed the other one flat against the wall.

Your breath only got more and more shakey. You looked down and watched him bringing his mouth your clit. The sole sight made you pulse. You felt his soft lips pressed against wet ones. His relaxed tongue licking your sensitive bud. Your whole body quivered underneath his tender touch.

You felt yourself building, the pleasurable rhythm his fingers moved at and him sucking your clit made you fight against the urge of climbing higher and higher. You closed your eyes and listened to the wet sounds he was making with his mouth.

Fingers on his other hand were digging into your thigh, holding you steady. His curls tickled your abdomen with every movement he made.

Him watching you above only made him harder. He wanted you to let go. He opened his mouth, giving you wet kisses on your clit, with some light sucking. He pulled away and watched the mess you were. Your chest heaving, your hair tossed, and your brows furrowed with pleasure. He could stare at you forever like this.

"Use me." He breathed out

You opened your eyes to see him gazing up at you. His eyes flickered down to his hand, while his fingers continued to disappear in you.

"W-what?" You stuttered, it getting harder and harder for you to concentrate.

"Use me," He repeated, staring at you with his blown out pupils.

He placed his free hand on top yours that was in his hair. You felt him tighten your grip on his hair.

A grunt came out of his mouth and in that moment, you realized he liked his hair getting pulled.

Your mouth fell open to the thought of him being at your mercy. You watched as he eagerly brought his mouth back to pulsing core.

His tongue lovingly licking your bundle of nerves, with his lips wrapping around and sucking every so often. He could feel your wall gripping onto his fingers. He knew you were close.

"Carmyyy.." You whined, gripping onto his curls.

You felt yourself slowly start to grind your hips into him. A muffled groan came from him, the sound traveling straight to your clit. You fumbled, feeling it travel up your spine.

You felt his hand lift your leg over his shoulder, bringing him deeper into your folds. His finger tips traveled up and down your thigh as he devoured your pussy.

He watched you whimpering out and calling out his name weakly. He couldn't resist, and brought his hand down, palming his harden self in his tight jeans. He hastily unbuckled and unzipped them, giving him a little bit of relief and ease of access. Calvin Klein briefs peeked out from the undone jeans and were stretched against his bulge. He felt the moistness in his underwear from the continuous leaking cock. He half-ass pulled out it, giving himself some relieving strokes from the sight of you fucking his face.

With his sucks and kisses getting sloppier, he passionately focused on your throbbing pussy. He knew you couldn't last much longer. Hell, he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his hand away from his begging erection and wrapped his arm around your thigh. He gently nursing your throbbing clit with his tongue. Slowly, he added his index finger, feeling your lips suck them in as he pumped more.

You looked down and saw his blue love-drunken eyes on you, with a smirk on his face. He started angling his hand, sending another wave through you.

"Oh god.." You cried out, leaning more of your weight on to him.

He pulled his glistening mouth away, "Come f'me," His breath rugged and heavy.

"Carrmmyy-"

"Ssshhh, come on baby girl" He rasped, kissing your inner thigh.

You couldn't fight it anymore. You felt the pressure of pleasure build fast.

"Keep g-goin'" you whined, your hands tangled in his hair.

He leaned in and went back to sucking your clit. He felt your hips faulter feeling his tongue there again. Your thrusts became more desperate as you chased the high that he was inflicting on your pussy. He looked up seeing your mouth open in pure ecstasy.

You felt his fingers hit that one spot over and over again and mixed with his tongue lapping up your clit, you couldn't hold on any longer.

"Carm- Babe... I'm comin-" You gasped, your grip tightening on his hair.

He hungrily devouring your pussy, sucking on your clit and lips as your legs shook around him.

As he watched you fall apart in front of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He impulsively brought his hand down to his weeping cock and stroked himself eagerly while lapping up your juices. He felt you tug his hair harder, and with that he let out a pleasurable moan.

The wave washed over you with the tension in your body melting away with orgasm. Your head fell back, breathing rapidly, trying to recover from the rush that was still flowing in your veins.

Your eyes fluttered open, and fell on Carmy below you gently kissing your outer lips before easing his fingers out of you, his hand completely covered in your juices. He pecked your inner thigh a couple of times before bringing your leg down from his shoulder.

As he pulled away from you, your eyes landed on white globs all over the bottom of his white t-shirt.

"Babe... Did you?" You asked a cheeky smile crept up on your face.

"Yea- Yeah I did" He looked down and chuckled.

You leaned down bringing him into a kiss, tasting yourself off of him. His tongue brushing against yours. With him still on his knees, he gently pulled down, the now, wrinkled pencil skirt.

"I think I owe you a skirt" He grinned, as you helped him up to his feet,

"I think so." You looked down, flattening the wrinkled with both hands.

"Are you going to be wearing skirts every day?" He raised an eyebrow, playing with the buttons on your shirt.

"Uh.. Most likely"

He sucked in his lips and glanced away for a moment.

"That's going to be hard" He hummed bringing his blue eyes back down to yours.

"I'll make sure it won't be an issue" You winked before giggling

A smile played on his lips before he leaned into give you a tender kiss.

"Here, let's get this off," you tugged the bottom of his t-shirt.

He raised his arms, letting you slip the shirt off of him and being met with his toned chest that only made you want to go for round two.

You could feel your sensitive pussy murmur awake from the thought of him bending you over and railing you. The thought made your stomach twist with excitement.

"C'mon, let's go take a shower" You teasingly smiled, and grabbed his undone belt that was still wrapped around his jeans making him follow you to the bathroom obediently.

Masterlist of fics

#fanfic #fluff #smut #fanfiction #love #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy x reader #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fx

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notiddygxthgf · 7 months

Text

❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.

★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.

★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️

★ w.c.; 8.6k

masterlist

CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias.

Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.

Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”

He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there.

If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.

As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.

Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–

A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view.

“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”

Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting.

“No.”

“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”

“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.

“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment.

“Hi!”

Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.

It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–

He shook the thoughts away.

“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”

Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.

“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly.

He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.

“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.

The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.

“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him.

Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.

Highschoolers.

Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly.

“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard.

You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.

It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.

“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.

As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather.

You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma.

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.

He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back.

You gasped, twitching beneath his palms.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.

“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”

Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze.

“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”

His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.

He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.

He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.

“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”

Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”

“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt…” He reiterated.

“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”

“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.

“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.

Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”

Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch.

He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it.

Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.

He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going.

Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.

“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.

You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?”

“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue.

In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter.

Calm down.

“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”

He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.

You got magic hands.

You could be a masseuse.

Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.

Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.

“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.

You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”

You’re a lifesaver.

A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”

Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”

Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.

Smooth, dumbass.

You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him.

Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”

“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.

“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”

“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.

Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.

There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.

Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.

The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content.

Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.

You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.

Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged.

You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.

He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.

“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.

Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.

“Because you’re a minor,” You said.

Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”

Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”

“Shut up,” She bit back.

You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”

“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.

You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.

“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”

You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.

“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.

Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands.

Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”

It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”

You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away.

“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”

Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”

His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help.

The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead.

The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair.

When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”

Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.

“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him.

“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time.

You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”

Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.

You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.

You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.

He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.

So close.

“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”

Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats.

You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”

His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”

Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”

If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing.

She thinks I’m hot?

Does that mean she likes me?

You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”

He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over.

You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”

His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.

“Sure,” he said.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.

You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,

Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.

He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.

His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”

Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.

He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes.

With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips.

You were magnetic.

And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.

He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.

Yuuji.

Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”

He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.

You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap.

“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”

His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.

You seemed to have caught him in the act.

“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.

Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”

He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.

“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair.

He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…

“I’m sorry,” he lied.

“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”

He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…

He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear.

“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”

You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”

Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.

He licked his lips, “Please.”

And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.

The last of his restraint flew out the window.

The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.

He found himself getting lost in the moment.

He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.

His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts.

However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters.

The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.

“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.

“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.

His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?

He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.

“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”

He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.

Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.

Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.

The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”

You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.

His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor.

“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno.

He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.

“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.

And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.

You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head.

She likes that, he noted.

So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.

He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.

He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good.

Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”

He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.

He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.

Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.

“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”

He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.

“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.

He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free.

It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips.

Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.

“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.

And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.

You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this.

You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.

He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm.

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.

Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”

In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you.

He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.

With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.

If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.

His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth.

“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.

You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.

He felt like he was going dumb.

Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”

Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger.

“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”

“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.

He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door.

“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”

You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…

For you?

Anything.

“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”

He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.

You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”

He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.

“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him.

This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.

He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.

You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.

He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”

“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”

He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.

“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”

“Mmh,” you giggled.

Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”

You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess.

“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”

Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.

He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.

He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you.

“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.

Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.

But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.

“Choso– Choso–”

The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life.

“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck.

He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that.

So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin.

The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster.

It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life.

Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.

He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back.

You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.

Throwing your head back, you groaned.

He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.

Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.

He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?

You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly.

“FUCK!”

There it was.

He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.

He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition).

What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.

He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.

He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles.

One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.

You looked like you were in love.

Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized.

All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.

“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”

It was.

He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat.

“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”

You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.

That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.

The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?

You were gonna make him cum too fast.

“You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”

“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”

He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.

Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood.

Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth.

Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.

His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer.

“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”

His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,

“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.

He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.

“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”

You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”

“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.

You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”

“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it.

So much that he felt it drip out.

You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”

“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.

And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss.

You broke the silence after a minute or two.

“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”

And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.

The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down.

As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.

“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”

Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”

Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.

Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.

Who nearly spat out his drink.

You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground.

You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”

He only nodded towards Choso.

You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades.

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.

You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”

You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”

It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”

Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”

You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.

Who would notice?

a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | like this story? read more! | requests open!

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weasleyreidstyles · 2 months

Text

between the shelves

for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge!!

prompt 1: "is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

pairing: theodore nott x reader (no house specified)

warning(s): none

~∞~ a short little drabble – i've never written anything for theo so i thought i'd give it a shot.

There are many beautiful mysteries within the castle walls. That includes Hogwarts' expansive library that holds every book one could think of, and more. It's earthy tones and the smell of ink on parchment paper permeates the air at all hours of the day and the rustle of books is the only sound, besides idle chit chat that fills the vast room.

Right now, you despise the library.

The table that you and your potions partner had chosen was small and crammed into a corner of two towering bookshelves and the heat that magically swept through the room seemed to be set to sweltering hot as you sat, clinging to the fabric sleeves of your cardigan, which you refused to remove. There are potions books strewn across the table, which you absolutely abhor to look at, especially as his deft finger trace featherlight patterns against the worn covers as he jots a note down onto a separate piece of parchment for the assignment the two of you have been tasked with completing.

It all seems physically impossible. The fact that you're totally abysmal at potions, paired with the way Theodore Nott made you so nervous. Sitting in the sweltering library with him, is the last place you want to be right now.

He was one of the most popular boys in your year. Star quidditch player; top of all his classes without even having to try; he had more friends than you had fingers and he was just so godsdamn attractive. Everyone either wanted him, or wanted to be him in some capacity. Sometimes when you looked at him, jealousy festered in your gut because how can he sit in lessons so nonchalantly, but still remain just below Hermione Granger in all of them? And how can someone be made to be that fucking attractive?

It was not fair.

But more often than not, when you catch yourself staring at him (it happens more frequently than you'd care to admit) you find yourself constantly picking out the little things about him that make your heart soar.

Like the way his nose twitches irritably when his slightly curled hair falls over his eyes, yet he refuses to get it cut shorter.

Or the way his mouth tilts into a devious smirk that has people swooning instantly.

When he's on the quidditch pitch, his agility could rival the professional. He was truely a real talent and he could have an amazing future career, you think.

But the most fascinating thing about him are his eyes. Theodore has the most captivating eyes you've ever seen. They are a kaleidoscope of blues and greys that you find yourself wishing to get lost in.

Unbeknownst to you, Theo looks up from his note taking and watches as you stare off into space, the potions book in front of you long forgotten. His lips lift into that arrogant smirk that you seem to admire quite a lot as he abandons his own work in favour of staring you down.

You must be miles away in your own mind because you barely concentrate on the fact that he's looking so deeply at you, that he may as well have been staring right at the makings of your very soul.

"Have you got a staring problem, dolcezza?" he asks, his deep voice a mixture of smooth and raspy. It makes your heartbeat pick up in speed as you're jolted from your wandering thoughts.

"I'm bored." You mumble, moving your hands, which are resting on your lap, to lay upon the table so that you can lie your head down. "Potions is so draining and it's so bloody hot in here."

"Is that it, or is it because you're in love with me?"

You sit up abruptly, eyes wide and mouth threatening to gape like a fish out of water as he merely stares back at you with his brows slightly raised. His smirk is widening, almost to a full blown grin. Gods he's so pretty, is all you can think as you roll your eyes at him.

He lets out the lightest of snickers as you ignore him and open your abandoned book, in favour of evading his gaze. But he could already see the blush crawling further and further across your cheeks.

"You can admit it if you want to, darling." He says teasingly, his voice is arrogant and silky and it makes you blush even more. "I don't blame you. Everyone seems to be in love with me."

He smiles prettily at you as you glare at him from across the table.

"No one like an egotistical brat, Theodore." you retort, but there's no bite in your words – there never is when it comes to him. And as he stares you down, you swear you can see the reciprocation in his gaze, but it's gone almost instantly when he turns back to his own notes.

One day, you'd tell him how you felt.

Today was not that day.

#hogmarch challenge #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #fluff

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satorusugurugurl · 27 days

Text

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,882

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls

A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five

Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client!

“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.” Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.

“Thank fuck.”

“It was just weird.”

“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?”

Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”

“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.

What the fuck was this life?

Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door.

You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.

It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly.

The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.

By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.

“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”

”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”

“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”

God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.

His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence.

The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.

”Of course.”

“Why did you become an escort?”

Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.

”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”

”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.

He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.”

“For sex?!”

“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?”

You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”

“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”

Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.

“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”

Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow

“Y/N, could I ask you something?”

“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat.

“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”

Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him.

Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.

“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.”

Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest.

“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.”

“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.”

Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.

“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”

“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”

“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.”

Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.”

“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.”

The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.

The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.

But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him.

“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”

“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”

“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.”

His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend!

It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”

The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you.

“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm.

“Right! Right, sorry!”

You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”

“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?”

“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.”

“Then kiss her like you mean it!!”

You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.

“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!”

“Mina!”

“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!”

Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you. He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.

While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile.

“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.”

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him.

While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.

“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.

When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.

He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.

”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.

”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”

”Okay.”

His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.

His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns.

Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.

Holy shit, what was wrong with you!?

Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.

You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?

Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half.

“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.

”I’m in your head?”

Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.

”Toji—!”

“Shut up, we need to talk.”

(TBC)

Taglist:

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 6 months

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imagine sanji realizing he loves you

The sound of his boots hitting the pavement rang in the air as Sanji walked alongside Nami; he was holding her shopping bags as a few of the others pressed ahead. Cigarette forever perched in the corner of his mouth, he listened as Nami rattled off a list of things she still needed to purchase. Usually he'd love being the navigator's little errand boy but lately, even that felt flat.

His eyes focused on the back of your head, hair down and unruly as always. You were walking between Robin and Zoro, leaning into the latter a bit as you had just left a tavern. Sanji had kept a close watch out at the bar, cutting you off after a few drinks but he smiled as Zoro brushed you off and Robin steadied you with two helpful hands.

"You're always staring at her, Sanji and not in that perverted way."

The cook stopped in his tracks and Nami smirked, reaching for her bags in his hands. He wanted to feel his heart racing with her so close, looking so beautifully but he felt a familial warmth and it shocked him. "Nami..."

She smiled contently. "It's okay, you know, to just love one woman. I think you picked a really good one! She loves you too, but she won't make the first move. She's too stubborn for that."

Stunned, he could only stand there as Nami hurried along - calling for him to follow. He snapped out of his own thoughts of what he was feeling, what he felt every time you looked at him and he rushed after his friends. He reached the group and casually motioned for Robin to let you go. He gracefully slipped an arm around your waist and when your head moved to see who was holding you, the biggest smile appeared on your face. Nami mentioned loudly that she needed to do more shopping and Robin, wholeheartedly, agreed to join her while Zoro followed with promises of a new bottle of sake.

"Where's everyone going?"

Sanji smiled as you leaned against his body as he adjusted his arm around your waist. "Shopping, but I'm taking you back to the Sunny. You need sleep."

"Sleep sounds nice..." you threw an arm around his neck and your whole body collapsed against his strength. Sanji chuckled as he lifted you up into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest.

Nuzzling your head against his shoulder, you murmured something so quietly he had to ask you to repeat it. You sighed as he continued to walk, effortlessly carrying you in his arms. "I said you are a very nice man, Sanji. Sweet....and the best cook in the world. I wish..."

Sanji stopped, gaze casting down on you; he smiled when he felt that intense thumping in his chest. The beating of his heart in a rhythm that felt like a song he had never heard before and when your eyes met his, it felt like his heart shattered and in its place, a new one formed.

"I - I love you."

The expression on your face softened and Sanji relaxed. "You might not remember this, but when you're sober, I'll tell you again."

"I won't forget," you promised, reaching up to pluck out the cigarette in his mouth. He grinned when you tossed it aside and leaned in for a kiss. He kissed you softly, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I love you too...but I really need to get some sleep."

Sanji laughed, agreeing as he continued down the path back to the ship. You told him you could walk but he refused to put you down - the love of his life wasn't going to walk a step if she didn't have to. He said so with pride in his eyes and who were you to deny him such a thing?

Relaxing in his arms, your eyes remained on him as he talked about what he was going to cook for dinner and as he rattled off different recipes, you realized listening to him talk about cooking felt like a soft lullaby. When he asked what you thought, you could only smile at him.

"Whatever you cook will always be good, Sanji."

The boyish expression of joy and delight painted his face wonderfully against the setting sun, and the two of you continued the journey back to the ship knowing everything had changed in a matter of minutes. Sanji and you were going to embark on the Sunny together, and every time the two of you stepped off the great vessel - it would be together.

"Can we kiss later?"

The question from your unsober mouth brought out a low laugh from Sanji and he nodded furiously, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "As long as you want, but you have to get sober first."

"Black coffee than, okay?"

The cook agreed, the Sunny in the distance. He inhaled the fresh air and reminded himself to thank Nami later because if it wasn't for her, he'd never have the courage to tell you how he felt. Lemon bon bons, he'd make her that but not before getting some coffee and food in you - because from here on out, you were his first priority.

"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, eyes smiling down on you. "Let's get you some coffee."

"Thank lots of kissing?"

Sanji grinned. "Oh, so much kissing."

#sanji x reader #sanji #one piece sanji #black leg sanji x reader

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feirceangel · 7 months

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Imagine | Lost (Zoro)

Imagine getting lost with Zoro.

Word Count: 1,604

Warnings: hurt/comfort

(Gif is not mine!)

Things haven't gone according to plan. Of course, that's the norm when you're traveling with Luffy and the rest of the Strawhats. Each crew member has their own quirks, but sometimes everyone manages to stay relatively on track.

Except for Zoro.

The green haired swordsman is notorious for his directional challenges. He even gets lost on his own ship, that's how hopeless his sense of direction is.

So, when everyone splits up to search for the current treasure of the day, you watch with a chuckle as Zoro immediately storms off in the wrong direction.

Huffing with laughter, you race to catch up with him. You trail beside him until he notices and raises a brow at you.

"Huh, what're you doing? We're supposed to split up."

"Oops," you grin at him, chuckling at his exasperated sigh.

He doesn't stop walking, "Go away."

"No."

"I'm serious.”

"Whatcha gonna do? Stick me with your big sword?" You hide your laugh behind your hand as his ears turn beet red.

"If you're gonna follow me, at least shut your mouth," he grumbles.

Smirking at your victory, you subtly start walking a bit closer to him, eyes roaming the area for any potential threats or treasures.

If he notices how close you are, he doesn't comment. He's also on the lookout for danger, hand resting idly on the hilt of his sword.

You've always admired how ready for a fight his is- never letting his guard down. Even when he's 'napping', he's still paying attention to his surroundings.

You've tried a few times to prank him when you thought he was fast asleep but failed every single time. He seems to be able to sense your proximity every time you get within five meters of him.

Even now, as you walk in close proximity, you can't help but admire him. His tall posture and alert eyes that peer into the forest. His soft green hair slightly tousled from the wind.

"You're staring," his voice bears a tinge of smugness, making you whip your head the opposite way.

"Was not."

"Was too."

"I wasn't. I don't know why you'd even think that," you cross your arms and turn to look at him again. "Not like there's much to look at."

Your tone and smirk betray your lies, Zoro unable to stop from smirking along with your teasing.

"Really? Nothing at all?"

"Of course, I'd never ogle at you and your well trained muscles."

He smirks, turning away from you.

It's been like this since you were welcomed into the Strawhat Crew, easy banter between you and the swordsman. After you had proven your loyalty to Luffy that is. You believe Zoro values loyalty above all else.

Zoro had warmed up to you more than he had some of the others.

There'd been an unspoken tension between you: lingering glances and touches mingled with flirtatious words and playful gestures.

He'd let you drag him into drinking contests (which you always lost), nap beside him, and even join his workouts.

And you'd always tease him (backing off immediately when you noticed that he had enough), and steered him in the right direction when he got horribly lost.

Like right now.

"Zoro, I'm pretty sure we have to go left here," you point out.

"I knew that," he grumbles and alters his course. "I was just scouting the area."

"Uh-huh."

"I was!"

Laughing, you hop onto a large fallen tree that blocks your path. You turn to taunt Zoro a bit more, but you pause as a loud shot rings out.

Sudden pain shoots through your leg as blood splatters around you. You crumble down off the log, saved from a hard landing by strong arms.

Stunned, you look up into Zoro's eyes.

"You're alright," he says firmly as he sets you down against the tree. "It just got you in the leg."

Dumbly, you stare into his face, barely registering his words or his angered expression.

"You stay here and I'll be right back."

You nod, unable to do much more. As you watch him leave, you meekly call out to him, "Don't you dare get lost."

He didn't get lost, to your immense surprise.

By now, the shock has worn off and the pain has really kicked in. The bullet went straight through the meat of your leg, luckily not shattering bone. But you will need Chopper to get a better look and bandage it properly.

Right now you're using a strip of your shirt as a makeshift bandage and it's already soaked through. As Zoro does a second assessment.

"You're fine."

You glare at him, "I'm in pain."

"You'll live."

"Good thing, cause if I didn’t I'd haunt your ass!"

Shaking his head, he crouches in front of you, "Can you walk at least?"

You level a deadpan stare at him.

He sighs heavily, "Guess I'll just have to carry you then."

"No, no way."

"It's either that or you walk."

"You need your hands to fight in case there's more enemies," you reason. "Can't use your swords if you're carrying me."

"I'll just set you down."

"No, you'd drop me. And I don't want to be dropped right now," you fire back.

He stands up straight and glares down at you.

"What if you carry me on your shoulders?" You suggest. "That way your arms will be free and you can still fight."

"Fine," he agrees.

You wince as you stand on your uninjured leg, motioning for him to bend down so you can get your legs on his shoulders. He obliges and you precariously manage to seat yourself on his shoulders.

He stands without a problem, steadying you with one hand on your thigh. Pain floods your sense for a second but it is quick to fade as you realize something.

You realize the extent of the compromising position you've put yourself in.

You're on top of Zoro's shoulders, hands on his head to steady yourself as he grips your thigh with his broad hand.

You flush with embarrassment. Beneath you, you can see the dusting of a blush across Zoro's ears and cheeks.

"Thank you for this," you say, unsure of what to do with your hands. The desire to run your fingers through his hair is immense and it takes all your will power to not act on it.

"I appreciate it, Zoro."

He grunts, "Just don't get injured again and we'll call it even."

"Hey, I didn't wanna be shot!"

"You made yourself an easy target!"

"I thought we were alone!"

"You should've known better!"

"I can't believe you're blaming me right now," you say in exasperating. "By the way, you're going north and the ship is to the south."

He grumbles beneath you but does switch his course to follow where you pointed. You wince every so often as he jostles you.

"Sorry," he says, very uncharacteristically.

Surprised, you lean over to stare into his face.

"For what?"

"I should've sensed that sniper but I was distracted," he grits his teeth in annoyance. "If I had seen him, you wouldn't have been hurt."

"Distracted?" You raise a brow, "You were distracted?"

"Don't-"

"Was it me that distracted you?" You grin, forgetting your pain. "Were you perhaps staring at me?"

"Forget I said anything."

"Too late! Admit it, you were checking me out."

His delightful blush is back in full force, "Was not! I was making sure you didn't fall."

You pat his cheek, "Well, you did catch me when I fell. And I guess I fell for you."

He stumbles slightly, making you laugh and cry out in pain at the same time.

"Watch your step Rorozo," you smack him lightly on the head.

"Don't call me that."

"Never," you run your hand over his hair, "I think you secretly like it."

He doesn't say anything and neither do you. Despite your injury, you are enjoying the moment of closeness between you and the swordsman.

It's moments like these that lighten your heart and bring a smile to your face.

His hand shifts over your thigh, "Maybe I do like it. This."

"Me?" You add softly, tracing patterns through his soft hair.

"Maybe."

"Well, maybe I do too," you bend down and press a kiss to his forehead. "Like you."

His hand tightens on your leg, his other hand coming up to caress your hair in a rare display of physical affection.

"Y'know, Sanji's gonna faint when he sees us like this," you chuckle, imagining his reaction.

"Maybe that stupid love-cook will finally leave you alone."

"Sanji? Stop fawning over a drop dead gorgeous woman? It's unlikely."

Zoro reads his head up to try and glare at you, making you wince as you jolt your injured leg.

"Don't worry Rorozo- I only have eyes for you."

At that confession, he stops in his tracks.

"That's it."

He lowers you to the ground, your confusion growing. Weren't you both on the same page just a second ago?

You're not on the ground for long though, as Zoro picks you up bridal-style and stares into your eyes.

"When you say things like that," he tsks, "I want to shut you up."

Before you can ask what he means, he presses his lips against yours, hard.

He breaks away far too soon, “That’s better.”

“If that’s how you’re gonna do it, you can shut me up anytime,” you grin, lean your head against him.

Wrapped up in his warm embrace, you’ve forgotten all about the pain in your leg…

Or the fact that Zoro is once again walking in the wrong direction.

#female reader #imagine #reader insert #x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #op zoro #zoro x reader #Zoro #pirate hunter zoro #fanfic #zoro x you #one piece zoro

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viennakarma · 7 months

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Satisfaction [Part 1]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: Four times you tried to befriend Lewis, and one time you didn't.

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: female!reader, asshole!Lewis (he will get better), physiotherapist!reader, no romance yet, Lewis is being rude, reader is trying, cursing, a bit angsty, not beta read

Note: Lewis is being kind of an asshole, but I promise he will grovel a lot. This is a two part story. Gentle reminder that english is not my first language (so please bear any mistake), I'm also taking requests for F1 drabbles and oneshots (at this moment I'm writing for Lewis, Fernando, Max and Toto Wolff).

Find me on Twitter!

You drank the rest of your iced tea in one gulp, pushing the nervousness away. It wasn't exactly anxiety, but more first-day jitters at a new job. Adjusting your ponytail, you stood up as one of the team approached.

“Y/N? It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Ellie from the HR team, we spoke on the phone. Lewis is around, so we thought we’d introduce you two now, okay?”

“Of course, of course, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie.”

Ellie showed you around, giving you a tour of the entire motorhome. You were aware that it was difficult to join a team after the season had already started, especially to take the place of a person who was very loved by everyone and who had been there for several years, but you were willing to do your best to get along with everyone.

Finally, Ellie took you to a training room, where Lewis was inside. He was sitting in an armchair, drinking water from a bottle when Ellie introduced the two of you. You smiled and offered your hand for a shake, but he just ignored his hand with a blank stare.

“Lewis, this is Y/N Y/L/N, your new physical therapist, you'll be seeing each other every other day” Ellie introduced them, not seeming to notice the cold way Lewis greeted you.

“Nice to meet you,” you murmured, trying to ignore the awkwardness between the two of you. Lewis just nodded his head briefly and turned to pay attention to his own cell phone.

Ellie then went over your entire routine for the next few weeks, as well as giving you a short guide to Lewis's physiotherapy sessions over the past two years, and required exercises from fitness to pre-race and post-race.

Your official working day began the following Tuesday at seven in the morning at one of the Mercedes workstations in Brackley, where the entire team was gathered. You needed to be there to look after Lewis' fitness as he had team meetings, and you needed to follow him wherever he went to be able to do your job. Honestly, it wasn't a big problem since you used to work with the Real Madrid football team, so you were used to the traveling routine.

As soon as you entered the building's small gym, Lewis was already inside, tying the laces on his shoes.

"Good morning!" You walked in with a smile, setting your bag aside and holding the two glasses of iced tea you had purchased on the way, “the weather is kind of warm today, huh? I bought iced tea for both of us.”

“No thanks,” Lewis said, standing up, “can we get started?”

The sharp tone left you speechless for a moment, but you soon recovered, tying your hair into a ponytail. You had hoped that the mood on the day you met Lewis was just because he was stressed or had some problem on that specific day. But it seems that today he also wasn’t very interested in being polite to you.

You took a deep breath pulling your iPad out of the bag where you had prepared the day's entire session. Okay, you were patient, you could win him over with time and maybe you could even become friends, or at the very least, on friendly terms.

“Alright, let’s start today’s session with some intense stretching to prepare your body for the intensity of the next few days’ sessions,” you murmured, pointing to the mat on the floor.

“Angela didn't use an iPad during our sessions,” he commented casually.

“Because Angela had been with you for years and had already memorized her exercises. Can we start?"

II.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” you said, entering the gym, plopping your bag on a nearby table.

“You could have a little more respect for other people’s time,” Lewis said, suddenly. You froze in place, your eyes fleeting to the watch high on the wall, that showed you were barely ten minutes late for the session.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you repeated, pulling your iPad open.

You were a few weeks into your new job, and acquaintanceship with Lewis had not gone better in the slightest. If anything, it had gone even worse. Lewis was adamant in not opening up to you, not even in the professional sense of your work relationship. Every time you tried small talk, or even professional talk, he had shut you out barely politely. He was constantly annoyed by your presence, and didn’t engage in anything other than the exercises you were helping him with. You noticed his performance was going bad in the season, and you attributed his bad mood solely to that. That’s why you usually brushed off his rude remarks and his questioning of the quality of your work.

“We’ll do core strength today, Lewis.”

You spent the next two hours walking him through every exercise you had for the day. Sometime during your session, you tried to help him fix his posture by pressing a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed you off, only saying he was able to do it himself.

By the end of your session, he was visibly tired, and you reached in your purse to your small stock of protein bars. You grabbed two and tossed one to Lewis. He caught it in the air, staring at it with a frown.

“It’s a protein bar. It is healthy, vegan, and doesn’t taste like cardboard, for once,” you giggled, trying to strike up conversation, “honestly, I found this small brand from Hungary out of sheer luck and my life hasn’t been the same ever since, now I just order like this crazy-”

“Are we done?” He cut you off, you stopped smiling.

“What?” you said, staring at him going to his bag.

“Is our session done?” he insisted.

“Yes,” you said, deflated. Lewis walked away, and on his way to the door, he dropped the little protein bar you gave him in the trash.

You felt a lump in your throat, defeated. You had never had a client so difficult to deal with. Most of them were usually standoffish in the beginning, but they became friends with time, some of them you had a great relationship even now, years later.

Lewis just- he just hated you for apparently no reason, and it was making your professional life pure hell. It was hard not bonding with someone you work so physically close with. And honestly, you had tried everything in the book to help him acclimate to you, but he was just- immune. He didn’t like you, you had no idea if he even liked your job because he refused to give you any feedback whatsoever.

You refused to go to HR because it would make you look like a kid throwing a tantrum because the other kid doesn’t like you. What would HR do? Force Lewis to tolerate you? He would probably hate you more if that happened.

You just sighed, swallowing the tears as you left.

III.

“I was considering adding pilates sessions once a week, we can do reformer and clinical pilates alternating” you told Lewis as he did the final stretching of the session.

“I don’t like sudden changes in my exercise routine,” he said, getting up.

“Well, I believe it would do you good. And we can start slowly for you to adapt better. Does every other week work for you?” You taped your schedule on the iPad.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he muttered, visibly annoyed now.

“I can forward you a few articles I have been reading to show you, why I think it-”

“No, I don’t want that,” he shut you off completely, “can I go now?”

You sighed, enough was enough. You were pissed at him, being difficult, being annoying, fucking up your routine by being rude and being a fucking asshole.

“No, you can’t,” you said, voice firm, which kind of surprised him, since it was the first time you ever used that tone with him, “what is your fucking problem?”

“What are you talking about?” He folded his arms.

“What is your problem with me? Is it something I did? Or maybe something I said?” You pressed, walking towards him, the closest you have ever been to him.

“I have no problem with you,” he said and you scoffed, “we are not friends, you’re just my physiotherapist, nothing more, nothing less.”

You felt grateful he left as soon as he said that, otherwise he would have seen the tears filling your eyes.

IV.

“I went back to therapy, because I’m feeling like a failure,” you told Angela over the phone.

“Is he being so difficult?” She asked, sounding worried.

“You have no idea…” you whispered, pressing your temples.

“You want me to talk to him?” Angela said, concerned. You stared at your own reflection in the mirror inside the gym, seeing the dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep. The last encounter with Lewis was enough to take a toll on your mental health and trigger a bit of insomnia.

“No, I think it would make it worse, but I appreciate the offer,” you sighed, exhausted, “I’ll work around these difficulties, and if it gets any worse, I’ll call you so you can talk to him. Deal?”

“Deal. Just- Don’t burn yourself out, ok? I know how he can be hard to deal with. Let me know if you need anything.” Angela offered, and you wanted to cry with the kindness in her voice.

“Yes, of course. Thank you very much for letting me vent, yeah? Talk to you later” You said, and noticed how Lewis entered the gym, seemingly surprised that you even were there.

That would make two of you.

This time you went through your training session in complete silence, only talking about his physicality and the exercises. You didn’t joke with him, nor did you make commentaries on the session. You just did your job silently, staring at him with a blank face.

As you finished, you packed your bag and left without a word, going straight to HR to put in your resignation letter you had written during your day off.

Lewis noticed your absence as soon as he entered the gym for your session. You hadn’t been late ever since that time he called you out the first and only time you were late. Since then, you were always there when he arrived. But you weren’t there and he felt something was off. Maybe you had a cold or something and HR forgot to tell him.

He walked up to Ellie’s office, knocking lightly before entering.

“Hey there, Lewis! Can I help you?” She asked, putting away a few papers.

“Hey. Where is Y/N?” He asked, sitting down.

“Oh, I thought she had told you… She resigned two days ago.” With Ellie’s words, Lewis felt his stomach drop, but Ellie just continued talking, “she said she didn’t adapt very well to the routine, which is sad considering she is such a big fan of Mercedes and Formula 1. And, you know, since she was a recommendation from Angela Cullen, I really thought she would fit perfectly with the team.”

Lewis felt his mouth go dry. He didn’t know any of this. He didn’t know you were a fan of the team, as he didn’t know Angela had put you in her own position after leaving. He felt so, so bad, he was suddenly nauseous.

“Did she say exactly why she was leaving?” Lewis asked, heart beating in his ears.

“She said she wasn’t adapting to the traveling routine and it took a toll on her. She also apologized profusely, but I told her it was alright, it happens more often than she thinks.”

Lewis knew exactly the reason you left. He had made you go through living hell by being a stubborn asshole. You tried to befriend him, to be nice, to start small talk, to be kind and his only response to your attempts were flat out rudeness.

“Well, these things happen, right?” Ellie shrugged, sympathizing with you more than Lewis ever did. “So, while we find someone to fill her position, you’ll do your pre-race and post-race with George and his physiotherapist.”

Lewis didn’t hear any of the other stuff Ellie said, guilt eating up at him with such force he was out of breath. He didn’t even think before treating you that way, his brain just turned to that everytime he remembered he was alone now, that he had lost his best friend and confidante. Stress of the season had also caught up to him making him more irritable than ever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as he left Ellie’s office, he needed to do something.

He called your phone, but you had blocked him already.

“Fuck, I need to fix this.”

[Part 2]

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #formula one

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ro-is-struggling · 1 month

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Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff

English is not my first language

Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)

Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!

The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.

You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you.

Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away.

"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."

"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."

"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."

"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."

"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."

"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."

Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders.

Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.

"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness.

You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.

"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know.

But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.

"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."

Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.

“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.

"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."

"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him.

"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."

Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.

For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.

"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence.

The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.

However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands.

He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.

His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.

They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.

Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts.

You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go.

Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.

Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.

Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.

The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.

"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.

But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.

It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.

In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.

A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.

"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.

"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.

"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you."

He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.

You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.

“Princess?”

His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.

"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves.

He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so.

"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right."

You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal.

When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.

"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.

"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."

A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had.

Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear.

"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes.

"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."

"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."

"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"

"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.

"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."

"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."

"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"

"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."

Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."

"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table.��

After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.

The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died.

Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him.

Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.

"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."

You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.

"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet."

"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.

"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."

The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain.

Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.

"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."

It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.

Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.

"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him.

Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source.

"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.

Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.

When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.

The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.

"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."

Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.

Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up.

Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed.

He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.

Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.

"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it.

"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."

You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.

"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.

"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.

You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.

“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.

"Or maybe you're being naively nice."

Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.

You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.

They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.

"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."

Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.

The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him.

That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.

"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned.

"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.

"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.

"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."

There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that.

"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."

Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you.

The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin.

Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection.

You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time.

You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.

"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.

Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.

The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.

"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."

It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head.

"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."

Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.

"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes, Geralt, I will."

"Good."

Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.

He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body. You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.

"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.

"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."

"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.

"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."

Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you.

"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock.

It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you.

Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible.

"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.

"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."

Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.

It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles.

And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.

"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.

The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips.

"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him.

Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move.

After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.

Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.

"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole."

You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.

"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."

"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.

"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."

"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.

"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock."

His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.

"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."

It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.

"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it."

Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.

"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.

"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"

His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit.

"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."

His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.

Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had.

You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.

"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.

"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.

Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you."

You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.

"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.

"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved.

Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you.

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."

Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.

Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.

"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.

You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms.

"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.

It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.

You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.

"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"

Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."

You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."

"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."

You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x reader smut #the witcher x reader #the witcher x reader smut #geralt x reader #the witcher smut #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader

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giddyfatherchris · 2 months

Text

I can't sleep

pairing: bang chan x reader

type: not requested

warnings: none, pure fluff baby

word count: 1k

requests: open for stray kids and bts

a/n: i thought of this when i had an insomnia episode for a few weeks and it always helped make me feel better, i hope it does the same for any night owl out there xxx

summary: the reader cannot find sleep, but instead finds comfort in the arms of her sweet sweet sweet partner

You awoke for what felt like the millionth night in a row. Eyes wide open, a little hot, and completely lucid. You stared at the ceiling, praying you would fall back asleep, but nothing.

Lately, you felt like a broken record. Almost every night, you would have the weirdest dreams and wake up every hour, struggling to get back to sleep. You would either end up on the couch reading a book or stay in bed trying every trick to reach a peaceful slumber once more.

Some nights, Chan was right by your side, and you cursed him for being asleep while you weren't. Of course, you immediately chased the thought from your brain every time. You knew how much sleep evaded him. The rare nights he could get were a blessing, and you would be a horrible person if you ever were mad at him for recuperating all his missing hours.

You checked your phone, hoping the time on your device would be decent enough for you to get up. You let out a growl of disappointment when you saw the numbers 3, 1, and 0 flash on the screen. You couldn’t help a spasm of frustration only to stop the motion dead in your tracks. You winced, praying you didn’t wake Chan up. After a few seconds of statuesque immobility, you realized your Aussie boyfriend was not in bed. You patted the blankets, searching for his muscular frame, but found nothing. You sat up and noticed the door ajar with a feeble light filtering through the crack.

You got out of bed, not before wrapping yourself properly like a burrito, and went out. Unsurprisingly, you found Chan in his office, gaze focused on the screen before his eyes. His hair was disheveled beneath the hood of his sweater. He wore his favorite pair of sweatpants and looked cozy as all hell. It seemed you weren’t the only one sleep eluded tonight.

You observed him for a few seconds, admired his handsome features, and marveled at his concentration. You felt your heart flutter with love for the man before you, gently humming to some mysterious song only he knew about. You shuffled to him, attracting his attention.

"Oh, hey baby. I didn’t know you were awake." he smiled at you like you were the best thing in the world, and you felt a herd of butterflies take control of your stomach but pouted at the mention of your insomnia.

"I think I caught your illness," you whined with your lower lip deep set in a pout. "I can't sleep well lately." He looked at your moody expression with a small smile illuminating his bare face. God, you were cute.

"Poor baby," he cooed, "I'm sorry to hear that." He opened his arms, motioning for you to sit on his lap.

You did so happily, sitting on his thighs and facing him like a koala. He stroked your back and held you tight.

"I'm sorry for saying I caught your illness. I feel so guilty telling you I can't sleep knowing you've been dealing with insomnia your whole life. I sound like a bratty kid, I'm sorry," you mumbled on his clothed shoulder.

He pulled back enough to meet your face. "Hey, I never said anything like that and didn't even think it. I get how frustrating it can be. As you said, I can't even remember a time when I didn't have insomnia. I'm so used to it that I don't really care anymore, but that doesn't mean I can't show you compassion for going through something similar. Okay? So I don't want to hear anything more about feeling guilty."

You nodded shyly before letting your head fall on his shoulder.

"My beautiful angel", he whispered while kissing the side of your head, just above your ear. You nuzzled in the crook of his neck, took a deep breath, and inhaled his familiar scent, appreciating the calming effect it always had on you.

You finally looked at his screen, wondering what he was working on. As usual, when Chan couldn’t sleep he used that time to work. He figured at a young age that if he couldn't use the late hours of the night to rest, he might as well put that free time to good use. He quickly explained the new song he was working on, inspiration striking in the dead of the night. You nodded appreciatively before settling your forehead on his chest.

You stayed like that for a little while, hoping sleep would find you, as it sometimes happened when you were cuddling with Chan, but nothing. Not the faintest sign of sleepiness.

"You really can’t sleep, uh?" he asked when you wiggled on his lap for the third time. He also hoped the cuddles would have lulled you to sleep as it usually did, and wondered if he had lost some of his effect on you.

You sighed deeply, "I don't know what's happening to me."

He sat back in his chair, hands on your thighs, to face you. He gently lifted his hands to cup your cheeks. You leaned into the touch and almost started purring like a kitten when he stroked the side of your face.

"I think it’s time we use the big guns," he suggested magnanimously.

He carried you to the couch and gently laid you down before disappearing. You heard him rummaging in the kitchen for a little while before he returned with two steaming cups of tea.

"First, a little chamomile tea. It helps to relax and fall asleep." He smiled before handing you the cup. "Careful, it's very hot."

He disappeared again and reappeared with more blankets, his Wolfchan plush you loved, and his laptop in one hand.

"What are we doing?" you stared curiously at him, the hint of a smile playing on your lips.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the remote.

"Now, we put on one of your favorite movies, and you just relax. I have to finish this tiny thing for work, and then we can cuddle. Does that sound good?"

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you looked at your oh-so-caring boyfriend. You grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. You loved the way his lips just seemed to fit perfectly with yours. Once you pulled back, he seemed a little dazed but stared at you adoringly.

"Woah, what did I do to deserve that?" he whispered, gaze still going back and forth between your eyes and lips.

"Oh, not much. Just being the best boyfriend on earth."

He smiled shyly and kissed your forehead before putting the movie on play.

You cuddled into his side, lightly playing with his free hand. You watched the first movie, sipping on your comforting cup of tea while he worked. Once done, you watched another together until sleep finally graced the both of you with its peaceful embrace.

#ilya writes #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenario #christopher bang

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flowersandbigteeth · 3 months

Text

Your Naga Lord saves your Mother

A/N: I've had this oneshot sitting in my drafts in a while, combining some old asks

Naga Lord (Leander) x F Maid reader

Word Count: 6K

General Plot: You and your family are staff in the house of a Naga Lord. Things go sideways when your childhood friend's father falls for you mother.

W: Description of murder, yandere behavior, spitting, otherwise sfw soft yandere fluff

More SFW fics here

“Hurry up now,” your mother said brightly as she ladled a bit of porridge into a bowl for you to eat. “Master Dervin will be cross if you're late with his breakfast.”

Though the two of you were mere servants in the Naga Lord’s home, she always fed you first before you had to do your duties for the morning.

She glanced up as you scarfed down your breakfast, her eyes warming as they met your father’s.

“Good morning, my favorite ladies,” he said, kissing her and ruffling your hair.

“Papa! I have to work!” You pouted, but he just snickered, stealing your spoon and taking a bite of your porridge.

“Don't bother making yourself neat for that snake bastard,” he chuckled as his hands slid around your mother’s waist.

“Charles, please. Someone might hear, and we'll be out on the street!”

He shrugged. As you finished your meal, your mother arranged the morning dishes for the Naga family on a silver cart, taking a moment to smooth and repin your hair before you were to serve them.

Your father was sure to spit in Dervin’s bowl when your mother looked away, making your eyebrows jump. He put a finger over his lips, winking at you.

“I'm off to the stable,” he said, grabbing an apple as he went. “Have a nice day, my pretty girls!”

You blinked at the contaminated bowl, wondering if you should throw it out.

“What are you staring at?” Your mother chided, pushing the cart towards the door. “Get along; I can hear them coming down the stairs.”

You hurriedly fixed a pleasant but distant look on your lips as you wheeled the cart into the dining room.

“Good morning, Mr. Leander,” you said to Dervin's only son, as he was the first to enter the dining room.”

“You’re radiant this morning as always (Y/N),” he beamed, taking his spot at the table. “but stop calling me ‘mister’ you never used to.”

Your ears heated as you placed his breakfast in front of him.

“It's not appropriate, sir. We were children then. You're to be the master of the house and will be married soon. I'm sure your fiancee wouldn’t appreciate-”

He cut off your words with a sharp hand.

“Don't speak of unpleasant things,” he grumbled.

“Apologies, sir.”

“Stop calling me-”

The arrival of his mother cut off his own words. She was a lovely Naga, sharing Leander’s white hair and sapphire blue eyes. Like his, her tail was a shocking electric blue.

“Stop prattling with that servant, Leander,” she snapped. “She has work to do. You're bothering her.”

Mrs. Elanore was not a pleasant woman, but she didn't like you servants to be harassed by the males of the house. Whether it was actual concern or jealousy, you didn't know, but your mother, especially, appreciated it.

Dervin, her husband, took every opportunity to corner her, trying to ply her with gifts and sweet words. Your mother was having none of it, which is why you delivered their meals, not her, and why your father spit in his food.

You nodded, thanking Elanore as you served her the tea she liked.

“Where is that imbecile?” she muttered, referring to her husband. “There are so few things I ask of him, but he can't manage the simplest tasks. He is to arrive on time for every meal. There must be some decorum in this household!

Her sharp blue eyes flicked to you.

“Go get him (Y/N).”

Leander slid in front of you like a vibrant blue flash before you could even respond.

“I'll go, mother. (Y/N) has her work, as you said.”

She gave him a tight nod, and you took the opportunity to finish setting the table for their return.

“I should fire your family,” Elanore mused. “your father would be happier, don't you think?”

You glanced up for a moment to find her eyes traveling over your form.

“You and your mother are too pretty to be maids,” she snorted. “You'll only cause trouble wherever you go.”

“Our family has served yours for generations,” you muttered, scared she might put you all on the street. “My grandparents died here, and so did theirs.”

“Just like a human,” she hissed, baring her teeth. “Servile and obedient. You’d think you’d have found something else to do in all those years.”

“Apologies, ma’am,” you said, looking at your shoes.

She waved a dismissive hand at you, sipping her tea.

“It’s in your nature. There’s nothing to be done. You and your mother are good at your jobs at least.”

Your cheeks warmed at the backhanded compliment. It was different when Dervin or Leander complimented you. She acknowledged the skill that had been passed through generations, not how you looked. You and your mother knew how to run a house. Your masters needed structure to maintain their dignity. With little to do, they would become depressed slobs if you didn’t keep everything running efficiently. At least, that’s what your grandmother told you.

Slithering through the wide doorway, Dervin and Leander settled into their spots at the table, and you took your place in the corner, waiting in case one of them needed something. The two male Nagas looked very similar in their features, handsome with a strong jaw and wide shoulders, but Dervin’s hair was jet black, as were his eyes. They always appeared blank and cold, which frightened you. Elanore wasn’t warm, but her gaze reflected an expressive nature, not a monstrous stillness.

Your eyes watched him take a bite of his breakfast, trying to hide the disgust that roiled in your stomach.

“Where’s your mother?” he snapped after a few big bites.

You didn’t speak at first, your eyes drifting to Elanore for permission. She answered for you.

“She’s in the kitchen where she ought to be. The servants are my business as the Lady of the house. Don’t bother yourself with their whereabouts.”

“I pay them,” he barked, but she ignored him, turning her attention to Leander.

“You’re to visit Iris today, Leander. I’ve purchased a gift for you to bring your fiancee.”

She snapped her fingers at you, and you hurried to her side to take the small package and walk it around the table to her son.

“I don’t wish to bring her any gifts,” he snorted, not even taking the gift from your hand. “She’s not my fiancee.”

Elanore rubbed her temples.

“The two of you are infuriating, you know that? You have one job, Leander. You have to marry well and produce an heir.”

She waved a finger at you.

“You can keep your little maid as a comfort doll if you like, but you will do as I have arranged.”

“I’m a grown man, mother. I don’t have to do anything.”

Electricity crackled between their eyes as they engaged in a silent power struggle. You stood awkwardly to the side, still holding the gift.

“I’m sick of this! I do my very best to advise you two idiots on the proper way to conduct yourselves, and you act like spoiled children!”

Her tail snapped faster than you could see and struck Leander across the cheek with a crack. Blood dribbled down his pale skin, and his eyes hung on her, the warm blue turning to ice.

“I should have never married a common husband like you,” she snarled, turning her ire toward Dervin. Vulgarity and Mediocrity are in your blood, and you’ve infected your son!”

Dervin’s black eyes flashed.

“My mediocre blood saved your foolish noble family from destitution. Thanks to my benevolence, you are able to live in the house your family has owned for generations. If not for me, you’d be begging on the streets, pleading with your relatives to take you in as a servant.”

“Fools,” she snarled, picking up her tea and slithering out of the room.

“Bring your mother to me,” Dervin demanded when she was out of earshot.

You let out a trembling breath as you thought up a lie.

“She went into town this morning for groceries, sir,” you said, knowing he’d never lower himself to search for her in the kitchen.

You screamed as the bowl he was eating from sailed across the room, shattering beside your head.

“Father!” Leander shouted.

Dervin gave him an amused but cool smirk before turning his attention to you.

“Send her to my room when she returns,” he barked and stormed out.

You leaned against the wall, panting as you mentally checked yourself for harm. Leander’s warm hands cupped your cheeks, looking you over.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked.

Your gazes met, but words wouldn’t come, so you shook your head.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, his warm arms wrapping around you and pressing you to his chest.

You inhaled the spicy scent of the soap he used mixed with his own natural fragrance.

“I won’t let any harm come to you.”

When he pulled away, you found yourself looking at your feet, trying to avoid his gaze.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I dropped the gift,” you muttered, picking up the broken box.

You plucked the pretty hairpin from the shards of ceramic, seeing it was still whole.

“I’ll find a new box,” you said, trying to slide around him.

He stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, curling the other around your fingers.

“Keep it,” he said. “I’m not marrying Iris. My mother has no say in the matter, despite how she likes to posture.”

Your gaze shifted to the red slash bisecting his cheek.

“Let’s get this cleaned for you, sir. It will be a problem if it gets infected.”

He frowned but followed you to the kitchen.

“Is everything alright?” your mother asked as you pulled the first aid kit off a shelf.

“Good morning, zhingha,” Leander said, greeting your mother with a kiss on the cheek.

The word meant “mother” in the Naga’s old language. He had never considered his biological mother his; when he was a boy, he got quite attached to yours. He spent most of his time in the kitchen with you, playing and avoiding Elanore’s tantrums when you were children. The two of you had made the pantry your fort, and you’d put on little shadow plays while you lay on the floor together.

Your mother’s eyes focused on his wound, and she clucked.

“Poor thing, come bend down where I can reach you. You’ve grown into such a tall man,” she said, taking the kit from you and pulling out the correct supplies.

You hopped on the counter, swinging your feet as you watched her disinfect and bandage the cut.

“What mother in their right mind would do such a thing to their son,” she muttered as she worked.

She already knew who’d done it because she treated Leander’s wounds often. When she was done, she patted him on the head like when he was a little boy.

“That’s better.”

“We should go into town today,” he said. “My father is looking for you.”

She frowned, a flash of fear streaking across her face.

“Don’t worry. I’m supposed to be visiting Iris. We can take the carriage, and you can visit with your friends instead. Go have Charles ready it.”

She nodded, giving him a wan smile before she hurried to find your father. You hopped off the counter and headed to do your chores while your mother was safely out of the house.

Before you could make it out the door, Leander’s thick, electric blue tail coiled around you.

“Ah, ah, you’re coming too, saiya,” he cooed, dragging you into his arms.

Your heart thumped at the silly nickname he’d given you as a child. The word meant “little bear. " When he was young, he was fascinated with your round ears compared to his, which pointed at the end. As they had so often back then, his finger traced the arch of one as he hummed his pleasure.

“Sir, you shouldn’t,” you whispered, but Leander was too pleased with you in his arms.

He dipped his head, nibbling at your ear.

“I should eat you up, sweet little thing,” he whispered, making your body explode in butterflies.

He carried you out the back door to the stable, where your father was busy arranging the horses to pull the carriage. When he saw you tucked behind Leander’s large biceps, he frowned.

“Put my daughter down. She’s not your doll,” he said, his tone more curt than he probably should have been with a family member of the house he served.

Out of only politeness, you were sure, he set you down. Your mother let out a light, silvery giggle, patting your father on the shoulder.

“Oh, don’t be so strict, Charles,” she said. “He doesn’t mean any harm by it.”

As Leander tugged you by the hand into the carriage, you heard your Dad lower his voice, so he thought the Naga couldn’t hear.

“I don’t like those snakes touching her. They are far too familiar. Miss Elanore’s grandfather would never have allowed him to fondle her the way he does. Things were the way they should be when he was around.”

Beside you, Leander snorted, rolling his eyes.

“He also drove the family to bankruptcy,” he muttered under his breath.

“Listen,” your father went on as he helped your mother onto the seat next to him, and still unaware you could hear him quite clearly. “I’ve been talking with the Willards about (Y/N).”

“The Willards?” she asked. “The tailors?”

“Yes, they have a boy about (Y/N)’s age. Apparently, he has taken an interest in her, and his father approves. He thinks a girl raised as a maid will make a dutiful wife. I think we ought to consider it. We can visit while we’re in town today.”

You remembered the Willard's son Joshua from when you were sent on errands to pick up clothes for Elanore. He was a handsome young man, though a little on the skinny side. He seemed nice enough. Still, your cheeks burned, and you folded your hands tightly, hearing your parents plot your marriage.

“I don’t know, dear,” your mother hummed. “Do you really think it’s a good idea?”

He let out a grunt.

“I’d do just about anything to get our girl away from that snake. He’s only going to ruin her, string her along, and throw her away when he’s bored. They’re all the same. The Willard’s can give her a good life.”

You felt Leander stiffen beside you. As the carriage took off, his tail wrapped around you so tight you whimpered. He glanced down, his face darkening to a cool blue.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, loosening his muscles but not letting you go.

He gently unwrapped the hairpin, clutched in your palm, and busied himself fastening it to your hair.

“So pretty,” he murmured, greedy eyes eating you up. “I won’t let anyone else touch you (Y/N).”

You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be comforting. You’d always liked Leander. He was very handsome, and as children, you’d been inseparable. However, you also realized the massive gap between your two worlds. You were just a maid, and he was the only son of a wealthy lord. It wasn’t meant to be. Your father had explained to you many times before that Leander only doted on you because he was immature and unwilling to grow up. He thought he could still play make-believe with your life, and he warned you to be wary of him.

Feeling raw and confused, you tried to keep your eyes out the window, focused on the passing countryside as you made your way toward town. When your father stopped to park the carriage, he nodded to your mother as you climbed out.

She held out a hand to you.

“Darling, I need you to come with me. We’re going to stop at the tailor’s,” she said, carefully avoiding Leander’s gaze.

He, however, would not be tricked.

“How convenient. I need to stop there as well,” he said with a grin, tugging you back towards him with his tail. “(Y/N), keep me company as we walk so I don’t get bored.”

Your father gave him a deep grimace but was silent as he finished tying up the horses and escorted your mother by the arm down the busy avenue, walking a few steps ahead of you. You watched the two of them whisper to one another as you made your way to the Willard’s shop.

“Greetings!” Marshall Willard said with a grin when he saw you and your parents enter the shop.

His eyes jumped to the large Naga next you, and he winced just slightly before calling his son.

“Joshua! Come greet our guests. I’ll help the customer.”

Joshua appeared from the back, giving you a pleasant smile.

“Mr. and Mrs. (Y/LN). It’s wonderful to see you,” he said politely. “Can I offer you some tea?”

Meanwhile, his father greeted Leander.

“Young Lord Szake! What can I help you with this morning?”

You moved to follow your parents to the kitchen with Joshua, but Leander pulled you back by the shoulders.

“I’m here to buy (Y/N) some dresses,” he said, pushing you gently in front of him.

Everyone in the room looked at you, and your cheeks burned.

“What? Why, my lord?” you stammered.

He tipped his head at you.

“If you’re to be my personal attendant, you can’t follow me around in threadbare wool dresses. You ought to represent the Szake family well.”

“Personal attendant?” you parroted, confused. “But I’m just a maid.”

“Not anymore,” he declared. “Every Lord has a personal attendant to handle the paperwork and their calendar…those sorts of things.”

“But isn’t that normally a man?” Mr. Willard asked.

Leander beamed at him, a cold smile full of hate.

“(Y/N) has known me since I was just a child. She knows everything about me. I wouldn’t dare trust anyone else with my personal affairs.”

Your father frowned.

“Nonsense,” he barked. “(Y/N) is going to be married and have a domestic life, as she should. You’re a wealthy Lord; I’m sure you can find a qualified candidate.”

Joshua nodded beside him. You looked up at Leander, eyes large.

“I can’t be your personal attendant, sir,” you added. “It’s not proper. What will people think?”

He smirked at you, his long, strong fingers pinching your chin so you had to look at him.

“Fine…If your father insists you have a domestic life, you shall.”

Your shoulders wilted with relief, and you let out a breath.

“Oh, thank goo-”

“As my wife.”

Everyone in the room’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

“What?!” they all said at once.

Leander gave Mr. Willard another bitterly cold grin.

“Measure her for dresses fitting the station of a Lord’s fiancee.”

“Absolutely not!” your father said.

“Lord Szake will never allow of this!” Mr. Willard pointed out.

“She’s to be my fiancee!” Joshua hissed, taking an incensed step towards Leander. “My father has already approved it!”

Leander’s gaze shot to him, danger reflected in his irises.

“There are not words on this plane to describe how little I care about whatever arrangement your families have worked out. (Y/N) will marry me, and you will dress her properly.”

He sank into his coils, pushing you in front of Mr. Willard, snapping his fingers.

“Now.”

You saw the man’s jaw tick, but refusing Leander’s request would only be bad for his business, so he pulled out his measuring tape and approached you. Not sure what was happening, you gave him a pleading look, begging him to say something. Reading your confusion and fear, his stare shifted to one more gentle.

“Lift your arms, please, miss,” he said quietly.

The room was dead silent while he did as he was told. Joshua and your father glared at Leander, who seemed entirely unbothered, while your mother appeared uncertain. You watched her suck in a deep breath, straightening her shoulders before she approached the Naga, speaking in hushed tones.

“Sir, are you sure this is wise? I’m not opposed to this match. I-I know…I can see you love her…I’m only worried for (Y/N)’s safety. Such arrangements between classes rarely work out well. Your fellow nobles will never accept her. Would you subject her to their cruelty?”

For a moment, he seemed to be considering her words, eyes sliding to you.

“My family has never been accepted into our peers good graces. You know my father was a common merchant. My mother married him out of desperation. She traded her noble title for his fortune. People’s opinions are only that. Opinions. (Y/N) and I will face the same prejudices together. Do you wish your daughter to continue her life as a maid or-?”

He gave Joshua a dirty look.

“Or become a servant to a husband who can never love her as I can?”

Your mother sighed. She lifted her hand and smoothed a bit of hair that had come out of place as if he were her own son.

“Please…for me, be serious about this if it is what you intend to do.”

He tipped his cheek into her palm.

“I will never betray your daughter zhingha.”

Your father let out a strangled noise, marching out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Joshua, who had been pacing in place, stomped over to you, grabbing you by the arm to face him.

“Is this what you really want (Y/N)? A snake for a husband?”

Before you could answer, Leander’s tail shot out, jerking him away from you and tossing him into the wall.

“Don’t touch her!”

The young man climbed to his feet, clutching his ribs.

“You nobles can’t just take whatever you like! (Y/N) belongs with us!”

Leander slid across the room like an elegant blue river, lifting Joshua up by his throat.

“Do not address my fiancee by her first name again. If I see your eyes on her, I will gouge them out!”

Joshua’s furious face told you he didn’t plan to back down. His father dropped the measuring tape, hurrying to rescue his son.

“Of course, he wont’ My Lord,” he said. “You’ve made your intentions quite clear. Yes, Joshua?”

He gave Leander another long look before he gave in.

“As you say, My Lord.”

Leander dropped him, returning to his seat near you, and jerked his head at the tailor.

“Continue,” he snarled.

“Go to the back and help your mother,” Mr. Willard said to his son.

Joshua gave you a last lingering glance before he disappeared.

–

You arrived back at the mansion in a very different dress than when you'd left. Leander had insisted on buying you and your mother matching readymade dresses from the shop window while you waited for the fourteen others he ordered to be made. The soft peach satin fabric was the nicest thing you’d ever worn.

The first thing you heard as you walked in the black door was the smashing of ceramic.

“Stay here,” Leander said.

Your eyes quickly flicked to your mother, who grabbed your hand and pulled you into the pantry, peeking out through a crack in the door.

“Father?” Leander called, opening the door to the dining room.

He ducked as a vase flew past, smashing to pieces on the stove.

“That bitch!” You heard him screaming.

He shoved past his son, dark eyes jerking around the room.

“Father! Calm down! What's happened?”

“Where is the human woman?” he snarled.

You and your mother slipped back into the shadows, trying to be as silent as mice.

“Father! She’s not back from shopping yet. Please, tell me what’s happened.”

His eyes narrowed, but seemed satisfied with his answer.

“It’s your mother,” he snarled. “She’s gone.”

“Gone?”

He bared his fangs at his son.

“Don’t parrot me like a dumb animal. The damn woman left! She stole the gold in the safe and disappeared! No one’s seen her!”

He paced on his thick tail.

“She must have paid off the townsfolk. No one will tell me where she’s gone!”

“Has she made off with our fortune?”

His father glanced up at him.

“Of course not; I keep the majority of our money in the bank. Only you and I can access it. I planned for this possibility but never expected her to do it! She only got off with our emergency fund…but it was enough to live well for a long time. When will the human woman return?”

“I don’t know, father,” he said. “But whatever you need, I can help you with it.”

He waved a clawed hand.

“I don’t need anything done! I’m going to marry the woman. I should never have agreed to marry Elanore. I won’t make that mistake again. An obedient human wife will suit me better.”

Leander let out a cold chuff.

“She’s already married, father!”

“Easily fixed,” he hissed with murder in his eyes.

“You can’t be serious!”

He tried to push past his son toward the door leading out to the stable. Leander blocked his way, his icy irises determined.

“I can’t let you do that, Father,” he said, his tone low and even.

Your father came marching through the door a moment later, unaware of the drama playing out. He froze where he stood, eyes immediately focused on the two Naga, staring one another down.

The opportunity in front of him was too tempting for Dervin to resist, and his tail shot out, a victorious smile on his lips. You couldn’t stay the scream that erupted from your throat, your mother rushing past you to protect her husband.

Dervin’s focus shifted to her, and Leander lunged at the same second. Caught off guard, he threw his father to the floor, and they quickly became a writhing ball of tails and arms.

“You’d betray me too, son?” he gasped as he tried to overpower Leander.

You smelled the coppery stench of blood as sharp nails scraped each other's skin. More than willing to help, your father picked up a heavy cast iron skillet, making his way around the hissing Naga, quiet on his feet.

There was a resounding crunch as the skillet descended on Dervin’s head. He flopped to the floor, limp. Blood leaked in a pool around him, but he still dragged in a wet breath. Before anyone else could move, Leander snatched a kitchen knife from the rack, jamming it through his chest. Dervin let out his gurgling last breath and then was still.

You and your mother clutched one another, sinking to the floor. Neither of you knew what to say or do, but your father and Leander didn’t need any prompting.

“Help me with him,” your father said, slipping his arms under the dead Naga’s. “We’ll bury him under the pig pens.”

Leander grunted his assent, lifting the majority of the weight as they maneuvered the body outside.

“Come,” your mother whispered, trembling. “The blood.”

You nodded, filling the mop bucket with water before pulling every towel from the cabinet to mop up the mess.

“What now?” you found yourself whispering, though there was no reason to.

She shrugged.

“That’s for Leander to decide. He’s the Lord of this house.”

By the time they returned, you’d scrubbed everything to a sparkle, the only blood left staining your new dresses and the towels.

“Take those off,” your father said. “We’ll burn the linens.”

The two of you nodded, slipping the heavy dresses over your shoulders until you only wore the thick shifts underneath. Leander helped you out of your shoes and slipped the red-splattered stockings off your feet.

Your father gave you and Leander a long look before he spoke.

“Take your fiancee to bed,” he said. “She shouldn’t have seen all this. I trust it won’t happen again.”

Leander returned a tight nod, and something passed between their gazes. They’d forged a silent agreement.

It wasn’t until your mother and father left out the back door to burn the rest of the evidence that the tears came. It was a relief Dervin was gone. He would have killed your father and hurt your mother, but it was still horrific.

“Shhh,” Leander hummed, scooping you up in his arms.

He carried you upstairs to his bedroom, curling into a tight ring to settle you in the center. His arms wrapped around you, and he pressed your head into his chest.

“Everything is going to be okay now,” he said softly, carding the strands of your hair with his long fingers.

“Lei, are we all going to jail?” you sniffled, his childhood nickname falling past your lips all on its own.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling when they met yours.

“No. My mother did us a favor. If anyone asks, they’re touring the countryside until they're entirely forgotten.”

“What happens now?” you asked.

He tipped your chin with his thumb, dipping his head to slip his lips against yours. They were so warm that you felt your jaw's tension melt away. His eyes searched yours when they parted, carrying a lightness you hadn’t seen in many years.

“I’m going to marry you, and your parents will move out of the servant’s quarters. Your father and mother have earned their place in the Szake family. We’ll find some new staff.”

You nodded, his hair forming a smooth curtain blocking the world.

“Sleep now,” he hummed. “All is as it should be.”

Despite how you wanted to keep your eyes open, they slid shut against your will.

—

“Would you like lavender or rose tea, Miss (Y/N)?” your new maid asked as she opened the tea box in front of you.

“Rose,” you said, turning your attention back to the catalog in front of you.

You sat comfortably in the rose garden, enjoying the sunshine as you planned your wedding. It had been a month since the terrible night that Dervin died. When Leander had informed the merchants of the town that he was getting married, they’d sent piles of samples and booklets for you to look through. You’d never realized there were so many options! It was a little overwhelming. Since you’d come from humble beginnings, it felt strange spending so much money on decorations and lace, but Leander informed you it should be a grand occasion and not to spare a cent.

“Um…Miss (Y/N)?” one of your maids said, looking slightly frightened.

“What’s wrong, Lily?” you asked, concerned.

“Well…there’s a Miss Iris at the door looking for you. Should I bring her?”

Leander was out for the day, meeting with one of his importers, so you weren’t sure what she could want.

“Of course, bring her here.”

A minute later, an elegant Naga came slithering into the garden. Her curly violet hair was pinned in a pretty updo and she wore an elaborate pink dress, covered in ribbons.

“Hello, Miss Iris,” you said, waving for her to take a place at the table. “Can I offer you some tea?”

Her brow was drawn, and she looked you up and down.

“So…you’re who he picked,” she pouted. “Over me.”

Your ears burned, realizing you were speaking to Leander’s former fiancee.

“There’s no competition,” you said.

She snorted.

“Obviously not.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, and you expected a verbal lashing. You were a mere maid, after all. It was absurd Leander would take you as his fiancee. She sucked in a deep breath, and her expression suddenly softened.

“How…How did you do it?”

Your eyebrows jumped, confused.

“Do what?”

She looked around, uncomfortable.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You took a breath as your maid politely poured her a cup of tea.

“I suppose so…If you’d like.”

“I’m relieved.”

“Relieved…why?”

She sipped her tea, thinking before she spoke.

“Because I don’t particularly care for Leander. In fact, I don’t like him at all. He’s…very…intense. He kind of creeps me out. He only spoke of you when we were out on dates; it was incredibly boring and awkward. Not to mention…the way he talked about you…He was fixated on all of your little ticks. Did you know he carries a lock of your hair around with him? And sometimes your stockings! He showed up one day elated because you’d accidentally sneezed on him and used his handkerchief to wipe your nose! He was cuddling it like a treasure!”

Your ears heated. Where had he gotten a lock of your hair? You’d never given it to him.

“He what?”

Iris waved her previous statement away.

“Anyway, I wouldn’t have liked him even if he hadn’t. He’s just…too much like a Naga male. Once they have something in their mind, they get…obsessed.

Our parents arranged our marriage. I hate that tradition. I’d never force my child into a marriage without love. That’s how you get murdered by some enterprising mistress!”

You blinked, unsure if you should be offended or not, but she went on.

“Honestly, there’s…someone else who has my interest. Only…he’s not a noble Naga.”

“Oh! That is a puzzle, isn’t it?”

She nodded, stretching her hand across the table to touch yours.

“That’s why I need to know how you did it! How did you win over Leander’s parents? Maybe if I can tell Joshua how to do it, I can…I don’t know…”

You giggled.

“Joshua…Willard?”

Her violet irises flared.

“You know him?”

“Ah…yes…but not well. He seems like a very nice man.”

Her eyes glazed over, wistful thoughts playing in her mind.

“He’s so kind and considerate. I’ve never met anyone like him, so gentle. A few weeks ago, I went to pick up a dress, and he helped me. His hands were so soft, and his voice was so sweet. Every night since then, we’ve been meeting in secret! I know he’s the right one and he thinks so too!

I don’t want to brute of a husband. I want a kind person who I can talk to. That’s why I have to know how to convince my parents not to marry me off to some…stranger!”

You weren’t sure how to answer.

“I think…You should do whatever you must to protect your beloved,” you said. “I can’t tell you exactly what to do because it will be different for you. We’re all different in different circumstances.

She looked a little disappointed.

“What I do know, though, Iris, is that if you love one another, you will find a way You two are adults, not children. No one can make you marry someone you don’t want to. It’s only a matter of how far you are willing to go, what sacrifices you will make to have the life you want.”

She nodded, thinking.

“But…” you started, pausing to sip your tea, “What if your parents went on a little vacation?”

“A vacation?”

You shrugged.

“Once you’re married, you’re married,” you said. “Maybe by the time they return…if they return… you’ve sorted your affairs.”

The two of you shared a knowing look, and she brightened.

“I like you (Y/N), you’re very clever! You’ve given me hope! Is there anything I can help you with in return? I want us to be friends!”

You smiled, picking up one of the catalogs.

“Yes, actually. I have no idea what is proper for a lady. Can you help me? We can plan our weddings together.”

She beamed at you, taking the catalog.

“Of course!”

A few hours later, Leander came slithering through the garden.

“Iris? What are you doing here?” he asked, his shoulders stiffening. “I thought I made it clear…”

Iris snorted and waved him away.

“I’m not here for you,” she said, raising her nose at him. “(Y/N) and I are planning our weddings.”

“Your wedding?” he asked, and she grinned.

“Yes! And now that you’re here,” she wrinkled her nose at him. “I think I’ll be off.”

She leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“Thank you for your advice (Y/N). I’m going to talk to Joshua,” she said before sliding past Leander without saying goodbye.

“What was that all about?” Leander asked when she was gone.

You shrugged.

“True love, I guess.”

He pulled you into his coils, peeking over your shoulder at the catalogs on the table. He ran a finger over the things you’d circled.

“Lei, can I ask you something?” you asked.

“Anything, love.”

You twisted around to look at him, narrowing your eyes.

“Did you tell Iris that you were excited I sneezed on you?”

“Ah…noooo,” he lied, his whole face darkening to a deep blue. “Wh-Why would she say something silly like that?”

You giggled.

“Of course not,” you said, patting his chest. “I must have misheard her. Can I borrow your handkerchief? It's a little warm out here.”

He passed it to you and you daintily patted your forehead, handing it back. His eyes widened at the little scrap of fabric in his hand and he hastily stuck it in his jacket pocket.

Leander might be a weirdo, but he was your weirdo and you wouldn't have it any other way.

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