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#Really trying to avoid the fact that I have to go to work to do and hand out grades two of which re failing grades ugh
szollibisz · 2 days
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Do you have any hcs abt how Curt and Owen "came out" to one another? (Using the term loosely cuz obviously they can't just be like "IM GAY") And also how they got together (who fell first etc etc)
Ok, so to preface this, my favourite thing about curtwen is just how many ways you can interpret their pre-canon relationship.
I try to keep their story relatively loose in my head, save for a few headcanons I very strongly believe in, because it's more fun this way.
For me, the #1 headcanon that's in all the iterations I think of, is that they hated each other at first. I think their personalities clash way too much for them to be all buddy-buddy on the first day. (Physical attraction? maybe. Was it minuscule compared to their irritation with each other? yes.)
I just think it's interesting how the two of them gradually (and begrudgingly) start to care about each other.
I think their "friendship stage" is one of my favourite parts about the whole thing. Now I refuse to believe either of those men have friends. Maybe coworkers and acquaintances, but not friends. Which is why this stage lasts so little.
As their work their way up to care for and respect each other, both of them go a little crazy about it.
It's the first time in years or even decades they felt genuine affection and maybe even trust, and both of them are extremely starved for it. So it really doesn't take much for them to fall for each other. (especially since the aforementioned physical attraction was always there and only getting stronger as they learned to tolerate each other)
I imagine, because of this, Owen was the one who fell first, and he employed his usual tactic for dealing with unwanted feelings: Being an ass and depriving himself of good things. He got more intense about his work, trying to immerse himself in it, so he'll stop thinking about Curt. He stayed up late, didn't even try to take it easy when he had a migraine, drank shit coffee and other great things.
It technically worked. He looked like shit, which in turn made Curt worried, and if Owen completely invalidated his worries the two of them would get into a fight, be mad at each other and not interact so much. Owen thought this would make him not yearn for Curt so bad (he still did, in fact, yearn for him that bad)
When Curt realized he was in love with Owen he was pretty horrified. Like listen. If someone has commitment issues it's Curt. Maybe he had a boyfriend or two during his teenage years/twenties, but they didn't end well, and since then he's been trying to keep everybody at arms length. He convinced himself Owen wasn't so bad because hey. They were just buddies (and Curt desperately needed a buddy.)
He tried to shove down and ignore his feelings, but moaning your friend's name while banging another guy may just be a little more than what you can avoid.
He never understood why Owen turned so cold suddenly, and he was terrified Owen just didn't like or trust him anymore. In turn he was also mad at him for trying to shut him out.
Their little hate renaissance could only last so long though. They were still each other's only friends and no matter what they did they kept being drawn back to each other.
This was a super long preface but. I am not normal about those two.
So. different scenarios and headcanons and whatnot
1. Either one of them somehow discovers the other is gay. This would probably mean Owen finding out about Curt, because, I wholeheartedly believe that man would leave during a mission sometimes just to get a quick fuck in. Maybe Owen finds out with evidence (fast & easy method) or he just starts strongly suspecting with his great spying and deduction skills (slow & torturous method, he'd try to convince himself he's just seeing what he wants to see) either way, the confrontation would be very uncomfortable for both of them. Curt would deny it ofc, and Owen would go through the internal battle of "tell him it's fine, you won't rat him out, but be a little homophobic about it, so maybe you can keep the only friend you have, but also be ok with the fact that he'll always be with other men and never you" or "tell him you're gay too, maybe he likes you, maybe not, and potentially risk losing your job and livelihood and everything you've ever worked for" He'd most likely end up doing the latter, surprising both Curt and himself. (He's already way more into Curt than he admits to himself) And things escalate from there.
2. Dramatic post mission (maybe a "I thought I'd never see you again" moment) This is where their friendship gets really interesting to me. For a scenario like this the months long yearning is a given, maybe even a lot of unresolved tension between the two (which would probably be resolved with violence anyways) They care very deeply about each other by now. They know each other better than anyone, and their idyllic relationship is only made into a living hell by all the pining. At this point I mean, they'd buy each other birthday gifts, go over to the other's house when they were in the same country and share way too much info over drinks. Their job is always dangerous, but even they can get scared. Maybe we're talking being crazy outnumbered, or a torture/hostage situations, or hell even a collapsing building. Point is, id either one of them thought the other (or both of them) may die, at this point they'd be impulsive enough to just say I love you or kiss the other. In the moment neither of them would care, and later on, when you'd normally talk about things like near death makeout sessions, they'd just. not. do that, because communication is for guys with better life prospects. This one has absolutely no coming-out talk in it, simply because they don't need it
3. Possibly drunk hookup Now clearly, we are talking about two of the most down bad men ever. This is one scenario, I think could also work really well when they still really hated each other. Maybe throughout their first few mission they both gathered enough evidence and sussed each other out, and after (yet another) explosive fight they might just. Alleviate the tension by not beating each other up but by. other means. They don't end up talking much about it, but it keeps happening, and wait maybe they don't even hate each other all that much. (This is the more sober option) The other one is where the "possibly drunk" comes in. If they've been friends for a while, they probably got used to working around each other and finding comfort in the other's presence. This includes little habits, inside jokes, and even (very small) physical touches. This probably wouldn't go down during a mission, it's more likely to happen at either Curt's or Owen's house, maybe during some holiday. Both of them realizing it's a pretty bad idea early on, because, without all the stress of the missions and navigating a foreign country all that's left is them and the feelings they have for each other. Owen would probably say no to drinks for the first few times, just to avoid a potentially dangerous situation, but Curt would wear him down eventually. Now, with both of them drunk and comfortable, it wouldn't take much for things to escalate. Maybe Curt forgets to take his hand off of Owen after patting him on the back, or Owen holds Curt gaze for a little too long. Either way, those two end up fucking. The next day both of them are a little horrified, but they manage to come clean about their feelings (even if it's in the most backwards and convoluted way possible)
Happy ending (or not) There's many more ways it could've happened, but I already wrote wayyyy too much I think.
In the end I don't think they'd ever have a proper conversation about homosexuality, even way into their relationship. It's something they slowly pick up on from each other. How ashamed are they, what makes them tick, what you shouldn't say etc. And then of course, since they don't communicate properly and sometimes purposefully hurt each other, they'd throw it all back in the other's face.
I'm not sure this is what you meant when you asked for hcs, but I got carried away.
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wttcsms · 1 day
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repeat offender, hiromi higuruma.
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pairing hiromi higuruma x f!reader  word count 1.9k  synopsis vignettes of hiromi higuruma's life, featuring his inevitable early-onset mid-life crisis, his disillusionment with the justice system, and how he can't seem to shake you off. content contains law partner's daughter!reader, no curses au, corporate/big law lawyer!hiromi, bratty, always trying to get a reaction out of him reader x just trying to survive the day hiromi, slight age gap (hiromi is 26, reader is 20), eventual smut in later parts, sfw but suggestiveauthor's notes something a bit different; just wanted to test out diff narrative formats lol (and also, this was the closest thing in my gdocs to being finished & i feel guilty for not giving y'all new content)
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all the wrong dialogue options were chosen here
Despite the ceiling clearance being so high that it’s enough to make a man of his stature feel small and the fact that despite all the warm bodies in this banquet hall right now, it would still be more of a challenge to bump into someone rather than avoiding them; despite the fact that the air conditioning system must be working overtime since he hasn’t felt the need to shrug off his tuxedo jacket once, despite the fact that he’s free to leave at any time he wants since he’s already gone through the obligatory introductions and the empty pleasantries—
—despite it all, Hiromi Higuruma feels trapped. The walls are slowly closing in on him, and someone from across the massive room is laughing a bit too loudly, and the ceiling, with its intricate crown molding, feels like it’s going to collapse onto him at any second. 
That’s the problem when you decide to be someone you’re not. He’s constantly on his toes, always having to look behind him, always trying to make sure his mask isn’t going to slip. Fresh out of law school. Top marks, top of his class, actually. As expected, as always. 
Hiromi is used to setting the curve, so it doesn’t take him long to learn how these circles operate. Laugh at the right jokes, order the right drink, find the right people to praise, the right suit to wear — he’s good at figuring out the right answers to everything. 
“The party’s never going to end, so if you feel like leaving, you might as well just go now.” 
Hiromi turns to face the source of that sentence, only to have to glance downwards, taking in the sight of you. Glossy lips, long lashes, slinky gold gown clinging to the curves of your body. He swallows. Hard. 
You smile. Sweetly. 
“Before you go, though, you mind getting me a drink from the bar?” You point to the bar that’s across the room, the area Hiromi just left, one old-fashioned in his hand. 
The first wrong thing Hiromi says is, “It’s an open bar.” 
Your shining smile barely falters, but he catches the subtle curve of a frown almost taking shape. 
“Do you really think I could fight off that crowd?” You give him a faux pout, one that only emphasizes the pretty shape of your lips. 
Looking like that, he thinks you wouldn’t need to fight the crowd to get the bartender’s attention. Everyone would probably be clamoring for yours, actually. He doesn’t tell you this, though. Instead, he says, “Like you said, I might as well just go now.” 
Boo. This stranger is no fun. What a waste of good looks, you think to yourself. Taking in the way his body fills out his suit, the tall bridge of his nose, the sharpness of his features — maybe it’s for the best that he’s no fun. You’re not sure how you would be able to keep your cool if he actually was interesting. 
“Don’t just paraphrase. I remember saying that after telling you you should do that if you feel like leaving.” 
He wonders what you’re doing here, at one of the biggest charity galas sponsored by the big law firm he’s going to be joining shortly after his graduation. There’s no way you’re a law student; only a select few final year students were invited in the first place. He can’t fathom you being someone’s plus-one; looking like that, he certainly wouldn’t be able to let you out of his grasp. 
He doesn’t ask you anything, though. He doesn’t compliment you, or say anything that’s on his mind. Instead, he hands his half-empty glass to one of the catering employees walking by that’s collecting dirty glasses, and he tells you, “I’ll be heading out now. Good luck with the bar.” 
It certainly wasn’t the right thing to say, but being a genius comes with some pressure. He figures he’s allowed to give out a few incorrect answers every once in a while.
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apex predator 
The click-clack of your four-inch heels making impact against the tiled floors of your father’s law firm serves as a signal to everyone that they need to seek immediate shelter (read: cower in the nearest coworker’s office) and try not to make direct eye contact with you. 
When the boss’s daughter comes to visit, everyone’s on edge. 
Everyone except the new hire. 
Hiromi Higuruma is by no means slow on the uptake, but he’s clocking in the most billable hours out of everyone. Very rarely does he get a chance to take a break, and he doesn’t plan on wasting what few precious minutes of a break he can get on hiding from some brat whose single defining characteristic is sharing the same last name that’s plastered on this skyscraper of a building.
When he passes you by in the hallway, you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. Broad shoulders, slim waist, and a familiar slope of a nose bridge you’ve seen before. You almost falter in your footsteps — almost. 
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bucket list idea: fuck in an elevator
There’s something intimate about being in the same elevator as someone else.
When there’s a handful of people, it’s casual. Simple. Someone who forgot deodorant, someone who’s running late for work, someone who just burnt their tongue trying to drink their coffee too fast. All of it is mundane. 
Being in an elevator where it’s just you and him — you haven’t decided yet if it’s a gift or a punishment. 
“My father loves the work you’ve been doing,” You’re the first one to break the silence. You can only hope that he’ll be the first one to break the distance between you two: a respectful four feet apart. 
Hiromi clears his throat, straightens his tie. He’s staring straight ahead, right at the shiny silver of the stainless steel doors. “Thank you.” 
“Don’t thank me. I’m not the one who said anything about your work.” 
The corners of his mouth almost turn up at that. He fights the urge to smile. 
“Then thanks for the honesty.” 
“Do you like that?” You ask him. 
“Like what?”
“Honesty?” You ask it innocently enough, but when you give him those eyes, and make your lips form that pout, everything comes out sounding sultry. He’s convinced you could be reading his most recent M&A deal out loud to him and make it sound like you’re reading an erotic romance. 
“Well, I’m a lawyer.” He finds that he has to bite back his smile when he’s around you. He stares at the slowly changing numbers on the screen. The two of you entered from the parking garage, and the elevator’s making its steady ascent to the thirtieth floor. 
“So that’s a no.” You muse.
Hiromi makes no comment.
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whatever pays the bills, i guess
Hiromi Higuruma, like every other undergrad trying to get into law school, takes some… creative liberties when it comes to his personal statement on why he wants to become a lawyer. Potential medical school students lie and say they want to “save lives” because “living with six-figure student loan debt for the first decade out of school and then making crazy bank afterwards seems like a good trade-off” just doesn’t sound very awe-inspiring, does it? 
In another life, he thinks he’s probably a defense attorney. Representing the Little Guy. Keeping alive his desire to uphold the principles of justice and that the wrongfully accused receive fair representation. Even with the odds stacked against his client, he’s certain that he’s good enough to win their case.
However, the world is unfair. Doing the good thing rarely pays off. Being a good person doesn’t get you very far, either. One of his former classmates was such a bright, kind girl. Passionate statement of purpose, too. She applied to all the same law programs as Hiromi and got accepted to exactly zero of them. 
Hiromi got into every single one, and his statement of purpose was honest, straight to the point, and damn-near clinically cold.
I need a competitive environment that takes pride in its intellectual rigor, but I have no desire to pursue medical school just to spend a decade in college and residency. Law school seems most appropriate for my needs.
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who hired the intern?
Hiromi doesn’t know what you do around the firm, just that you’re constantly here. 
Even when you’re not physically present, he still finds traces of you lingering everywhere. The scent of your perfume that sticks to the elevator’s walls, your now-empty medium sized iced matcha latte in the trashcan of the breakroom, whispers of your names when his colleagues are in the mood to gossip, the click-clack of your heels that he can hear from inside his office even though his door is closed.
He can’t tell if you’re just inescapable or if he’s constantly subconsciously seeking you out. He doesn’t want to know the answer.
What he does want to know the answer to is why you’re sitting on top of his desk at seven in the morning, your medium sized iced matcha latte in all its green glory (this is the first time he’s seen it full and not as an empty plastic cup in the trash). You’re wearing a fitted white button down with a gray wool skirt that will have the HR manager doing a wide-eyed double-take when you walk past her. Your legs are crossed, and Hiromi scolds himself for noticing. 
He focuses on your face instead, upset to see that you’re still doing that unfair move of yours — that pout, those eyes. 
“What are you doing in here?” Hiromi manages to get the words unstuck from his throat. He’s not even sure how you got the keys to his office, and then he remembers who your father is. 
You smile brightly. 
“My dad says I need some ‘resume-boosting’ activities, and how convenient is it that the firm is looking for an off-cycle intern?” 
How convenient, indeed.
“Still doesn’t explain why you’re sitting on top of my desk.” During your chirpy exclamation, Hiromi manages to pull himself together. He’s getting a few steps closer to you. He’s not going to sit behind his desk, not yet, but his approach only serves to bring you two into closer proximity. If you stretch your legs, the pointy tips of your stilettos will brush against the fabric of his trousers. 
“Well, every intern at the firm is apparently assigned a lawyer to work under. Y’know, to be a mentor.” 
He can’t decide if he likes or detests where this is going.
“And,” you continue. “Dad only wants the best for me. It’d be, like, kind of suspicious to be working directly alongside my father, though.” Yes, Hiromi muses. Because getting a law internship at one of the most prestigious firms during your undergrad is certainly not suspicious at all. “So, the next best thing would be the so-called prodigal lawyer that everyone can’t stop praising. How convenient is it that you’re able to watch over an intern for the semester?”
“Very convenient.” Hiromi raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to get off my desk now? I can’t imagine you’ll be able to learn much if your back is going to be facing me when I’m sitting at my desk.” 
“Whatever you say, sir.” You hop off the desk, gently tugging your skirt down in place. He keeps his eyes focused on your face the whole time.
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dreamerbouquet · 1 day
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FAMILY
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Dean Winchester x Sister reader, Sam Winchester x Sister reader
SUMMARY: Y/n, returns to the bunker from school upset. Sam notices this and the brothers talk to her.
Word Count: 1.900
You sadly walked into the shelter and started down the stairs. Sam and Dean found a school near the shelter and enrolled you there to complete your high school education. School went on summer vacation today and you took your report card and returned to the shelter. You were distracted and didn't see your brothers sitting in the library until they greeted you.
Dean gave you a quick glance and a nod, then went back to work. Sam continued to look at you, "Hey kiddo," he said, and then noticing you were sluggish, he put down his book and sat up straighter.
"Hey." You gave a short greeting and moved to go to your room, but Sam's voice stopped you. "Y/n? Can you come here," you sighed heavily and slowly turned and started walking towards the library. Dean looked at the two of you carefully when he heard Sam's question.
Sam gave you his full attention, “are you okay, honey?” asked.
"Yes I'm fine Sam, I'm just tired I'm going to go to my room." you said quickly and when you turned to go back to your room, Sam stood up and gently grabbed you by the arm, stopping you from leaving. "Wait, you didn't even have class today kid, what's the problem?"
You looked down at the ground briefly before looking at Sam, "I'm really fine Sam, like I said, I feel tired." You said and hoped he wouldn't push you further. You didn't want to talk right now because you felt like you would cry right away if you started talking.
Dean said from where he was sitting, "Luckily you're on summer vacation bunny, you can rest as much as you want." said.
You looked at him, smiled slightly and fixed your bag, which was about to fall off your shoulder, and went to your room.
Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's attitude and watched you walk away. Dean looked at Sam who was standing there, "Come on Sam, we have to finish this, come here." say it, bored with research.
Sam sat down and picked up his book, "There's something wrong with her, Dean."
"She said he was tired," Dean replied, glaring at Sam.
"So you believed that too? Dean, you know she's hiding his feelings." Sam snapped.
Dean leaned back in his chair and started to look towards the hallway where your bedrooms were, "What could have happened? She was looking forward to summer vacation. Did you ask her about her report card? Maybe it wasn't what she expected." he asked Sam.
Sam, "Maybe, I'll go try and talk to her." said and stood up and walked away.
You entered your room, threw your bag on the floor and sat on your bed. You looked around blankly for a while and thought about what your friends had told you. They talked about the things they planned to do with their families during summer vacation and looked very happy. Unlike you, they all had mothers and fathers. You also had a family, not a family consisting of parents and children, but you had brothers who loved you and always protected you. You still wanted your parents to be alive, to be a normal family.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock on the door and pulled yourself together. "Y/n, can I come?" When you heard Sam's voice, you realized you couldn't avoid this any longer and reluctantly answered him. "Yes."
Sam slowly opened the door and walked in with a smile and sat next to her. "You didn't show us your report card, so if it's not what you expected, that's okay, we can handle that. It's not that big of a deal." he told you gently. When you looked at him, you saw that he was looking at you with affection. You smiled at the fact that he thought it was your report card that you were upset about, and you took it out of your bag and handed it to him.
Sam took the report card you handed him and his eyebrows slowly rose when he saw your grades, “Y/n, this is great,” he said in a lively tone, but then when he saw you were still upset and your gaze was on the floor, he realized that wasn't the problem and placed the report card on the bed. He tucked your hair behind your ear and tilted his head so he could see your face. "Honey, why are you upset? Whatever it is, you can tell me about it. It's okay." He said it with understanding and kindness.
You knew he didn't like you keeping your feelings to yourself, but you didn't want to upset them either. When you turned your gaze to your brother, you saw him looking at you with an expression on his face waiting for you to speak, and you began to speak slowly. “You know we went on vacation today and,” you paused and turned your gaze back to the floor. As always, Sam put his hand on your back and started patting you to express that he understood you. You continued talking without looking at him. "My friends talked about things they would do with their families this summer, places they would go with their parents, etc." When you felt like crying, you remained silent and swallowed hard to relieve the pain in your throat.
"I'm sorry, honey," Sam said as he continued to rub your back. He knew you were still very sensitive about this. You caught the sadness in his voice and quickly looked at him, "No Sammy please don't be upset, I didn't mean to upset you-" Sam cut you off, afraid you would shut down, "Okay it's okay Y/n, I'm fine just keep explaining." he said and smiled softly at you.
Meanwhile, when Dean came towards your room to check on you when Sam didn't return, he overheard your conversation and started eavesdropping on you in the hallway.
“You know, we never went on vacation with them,” you laughed bitterly, “My friends at school always talk about things they did with their families, and I can't even remember their faces without a picture. Sam, they're so absent from my memories that I can't even miss them. I just feel their absence, that's all." You looked at Sam with tear filled eyes, “This hurts.” you said quietly. You couldn't stand the urge to cry anymore and turned your head to your lap and started crying.
Sam's heart broke when he heard you say "Come here," and he pulled you closer. You let him hug you and continued to cry. “It's okay darling, just let it go.”
Dean, after listening to you talk, slowly walked into your room when he heard you crying. You felt the empty side of your bed tilt slightly and you turned to see Dean sitting there. You wiped your tears and sniffled, trying to compose yourself. They have never left you alone until this age, they have always been more than a brother to you. Now you felt guilty for doing this. "I am sorry." You said and bowed your head.
"Hey," Dean said gently and took his hand. “What are you apologizing for, Y/n?”
"I upset you, you didn't spend enough time with them and now I have no right to do this to you." You said without looking at your siblings.
"Darling, can you look at me?" Dean asked. You swallowed and slowly lifted your head to look at him. "You are not hurting us by saying these things, don't think like that. On the contrary, we are happy that you talked to us, you don't need to keep these things to yourself. We are your family, Y/n, if there is a problem, we will solve it together as always." Dean held your face in his handsand continued speaking, "Mom and dad couldn't be part of our lives, but we will never leave each other, Y/n. Yes, we can never replace a mom and dad, but we are always with you." Your eyes filled with tears and you nodded. When he smiled at you gently, you saw his eyes fill with tears and you hugged him tightly. "Thank you."
“It's okay kiddo, it's okay,” Dean said, returning your hug.
You turned to Sam and thanked him too. He looked at you and, “No need to apologize or thank you Y/n, you can talk to us about anything, no matter what.” said. You smiled, "I'm usually the one explaining things, you never talk about your feelings." you said.
Dean, "Well, I guess we've grown up a bit." he said in a playful tone.
You made a face, "What's the point, we can talk about our feelings no matter what age we are, right Sam?"
Sam, looked at Dean with an approving expression, then turned to you and, "You're so right, bunny." he replied.
You knew that Dean was the one who hid his feelings the most out of all of you. You thought that he had made this a habit when he was protecting Sam and you when he was little. While he was taking care of you, someone had to take care of him, too. Like every child, he needed attention and protection. When such topics came up, he always changed the subject. He quickly stood up and extended his hand towards you, "Now, can I see this report card?" he said, more like a father than a brother.
Instead, Sam picked up the report card from where he had put it and handed it to her. When Dean continued to stare at your report card strangely for more than moment, you realized he wasn't understanding anything and started laughing. Sam rolled his eyes and got up from the bed, taking the report card from Dean's hand. "Hey! I was still examining it." Dean snapped.
"Dean, it's obvious that you don't understand anything, you don't need to examine it that much. In summary, she did well and her report card is fine." he said, giving you a proud look.
Dean smiled proudly and ruffled your hair, "Good my girl." he said.
You quickly pushed his hand away, "Dean! What am I, a dog?" you said, irritated by his action. He continues to tease you, "Oh, you're not just a dog, you're a puppy." said.
You kicked his leg with your foot and he started groaning in pain and rubbing his leg. "Hey! I taught you how to kick like that, you can't use it on me!"
"You're going to get hurt worse if you keep messing with me, Dean Winchester." You said with victory.
Sam looked at you and nodded to himself. "C'mon, stop it," he interrupted, "How about we go out and eat something? I think we should celebrate Y/n's success."
Your eyes lit up when you heard the offer and you jumped up and down and, "Let's eat cake, let's eat cake!" You started to say.
“Okay, today is your day and it will be whatever you say it will be,” Sam said. "Let's go." He put his arm around your shoulder and started walking out of your room with you. Once you left the room, Dean paused for a moment, thinking about what you said about your parents and swallowing hard.
"DEAN, COME ON!" He pulled himself together when he heard your voice and as he walked out of your room, a lively voice called out, "I'M COMING, PUPPY!" he replied.
"DEAN!!"
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senadimell · 2 years
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uuuuugggggggh, I really want this fic to be ALREADY finished at the same level of quality that I produced for the opening bit
(which i guess expecting it to be done and easy discredits how much work went into the opening bit but still....it’s so so far from being done and i wish it was already done because i want to find someone who is also in love with this idea and analysis and talk to them about it)
#look it's a crossover so it's going to be doomed to obscurity#and the fact that i'm trying to ape danged sir terry pratchett does not make this any easier#BUT NO ONE ELSE IS GOING TO WRITE THIS IDEA SO GUESS I'M STUCK WITH WRITING IT#i've got about four fics total...#i've only got about four fics total...but only one is conceivably close to completion#and two are frankly above my skill level (this is one of them)#but...i get the feeling that these things are so niche that i am the only one who's gonna properly speak them into existence#(not necessarily niche as in no one will enjoy them but i also zero expect to find someone else writing them the way i want)#if only i had more energy more often to do anything other than army-drag myself once a week to working on any one of them#rose-ten cyborg dystopia thing that combines my favorite fandom-specific tropes has a monster plot#and i've been avoiding it for over a year because i can't bring myself to write this dang next scene#martha character analysis piece is super dang hard because i'm laser focused on every line (i swear i'm gonna have to be a poet or somthng#because i don't think i'm cut out for novel-ing with the amount of scrutiny that each line gets)#and also the martha piece involves Sensitive Subjects and Heavy Things that require respectful research and so. much. thought#susan character study/science-fangirling piece's end is literally in sight but i keep not writing it because i have to do describing#(i hate describing. it's so hard. stupid plot and things that happened are way harder than conversations or thoughts)#and also the remaining scene and ending involves writing about some kinda heavy stuff#then this crossover piece! which combines all of the problems! except i guess objective length#it's supposed to be only 4 chapters max but it's 4 plotted chapters of distilled prose with heavy subject matter and satire#and it needs aforementioned Plot which i don't care much about inventing but really is necessary for the story to work right#people who say fanfiction is easy are wrong actually
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I am not good at being genuinely mad at people. Usually I’m passively mad and it’s more annoyed than mad but like oh man. Genuinely upset?? No you gotta tread real careful
#my friends and I went to hang out today including the one who was like on my tumblr which really bothered me right#and like. that’s not something I’ve gotten over yet. i care about my life here and my privacy very much#quite frankly. i don’t think I ever will get over this. i am willing to set it aside. but I am not going to forgive this#a few days ago she’s like hey Monday let’s do something. and with my future in mind I’m like. fine. sure.#so this morning I’m like hey there r some pretty serious things happening I don’t think minigolf is my first priority rn#and she’s like oh ok well can we still hang out tho? and it’s like. excuse me??? why on earth do you think that’s more important than this#and then. plans ended up working out and she’s like hey. we’re good right? and I’m taken aback and I’m like what?#and she’s like r we good? we’re good right?#and it’s like. you have got to be kidding me. I’ve barely spoken to you and you’re asking if we’re good in the hopes this all blew over????#and I’m like. I don’t know. I’m not actively avoiding you anymore if that’s what you’re asking#but it’s like. oh my god. it inconveniences me greatly to not forgive her for monetary reasons such as moving in together in a yearish#but also she is making it so incredibly hard to forgive her!!#i asked her for space and she decided oh well what if I keep trying to FaceTime her and just in general was acting like if she just kept#going on like nothing happened everything would be all good#like bestie my trust isn’t something you can rebuild. it’s gone#but she just keeps going and doing all these little things and it’s like#every wrong thing she could do delay my forgiveness she’s done#when I say forgiveness I mean my willingness to put this aside#but it’s like. u cannot just expect things to go back to how they were. that completely ignores the fact that something happened#like god start with at least trying to be my friend again. not my best friend. my like. good acquaintance#like text me. please don’t call. i would rather not hang out. just text me. join our group calls for a little bit at a time#just. small interactions. that give me the ability to leave if I want#driving me absolutely up the wall#soup talks
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yuudayaro · 25 days
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thinking of that kuyante thing i have marinating in my projects because i can't wait to get there
#honestly i can't wait to get to a lot of things#I just really enjoy plotting this project and the kuyante chapter has a ton of things that are appealing to me#but before i can even think about writing kuyante i need to write kuyamond and reimond otherwise i can't progress the plot#this because i'm using edmond as one of my glue characters to connect events that would otherwise not overlap early on#because olivine is mostly doing his own thing in trying to shoulder more responsibility than he should#and rei and kuya barely work together#and these three are the only ones who have an idea of what's going on at the start#so ed gets to be in three parts as some kind of sexy watson to witness stuff happening#and i get that eiden would have worked for the role but i like the idea of aster being overprotective and trying to avoid involving him#edmond seemed like the next best choice. his attitude toward Doing Things and Taking Responsibility coupled with the fact that he#actually kept trying to tend kuya a proverbial olive branch despite all of kuya's actions in their interactions made him the best option#he can put up with some bullshit#the other glue character is morvay who wanted no part in this but tough luck buddy#that's what you get for being the defacto messenger/intel guy#but he's more more prominent towards the end when i have all these little guys where i need them to be#oops i rambled#these tags brought to you by 'this kuyamond section is a lot harder to write than it seemed in the outline'
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arolesbianism · 27 days
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Every now and then I remember that oni in fact will eventually have more lore added and I get so excited and scared for a moment and then I remember that it could take months until we see any of that and I proceed to forget abt it again and the cycle repeats
#rat rambles#oni posting#now it does sadden me a smidge that itll probably be in paid dlc but thats a problem for future me#the bright side of new lore is new lore#the downside of new lore is the eternal fear of canon jackie and olivia designs#not because Im opposed to them getting canon designs its just so scary#like what if klei made them white how would I move forward from that#and its not even a situation where I can say with any level of confidence if they would or not because god if I fucking know#like they have until very recently seemingly deliberately avoided including anything Too lore relevant in any animated trailers#but that can kind of just be explained by well. the fact that most of those updates didn't include any lore.#and those that do involve it stay strictly in the dupes perspective#so I can't rly use that as any sign that theyre deliberately avoiding giving olivia and jackie canon designs#I would highly prefer they dont get designs even without fear of designs I dislike mostly because narratively it just works better that way#but hey its not up to me so whatever happens happens#I mostly assume future lore is going to mostly relate to the dupe donors we havent met yet and elaborating on some of the ones we have seen#but dont see a lot of if anything at all#I hope they dont mess with jackie and olivia too much but I do think itd be nice to give jackie just a smidge more like Ive talked abt#and other than that I could see them adding maybe new story traits and if they're feeling real generous more dupe lore#oh and if we're mega lucky we could get a dr.holland first name#honestly I hope that for dr.holland specifically they either just do a hard name drop and move on or just dont touch him#rly my main concern with any added oni lore is I Really dont want them to start telling us too much#I really really like all of our information being very fragmented and unclear as it adds to the post end of the world vibe rly well#and this is in fact a problem that they had in older versions of the story that they seemingly went out of their way to solve#so I rly want to have faith that they wont fuck it up but I have been burned before and oni has yet to have fully earn my trust#its not far off tho just the scrapped logs themselves give me faith that they are aware what story theyre writing and what needs done#again the scrapped logs are cool but would have dampened the narrative quite significantly from how straight forward they are#so them being full one scrapped early on makes me hopeful that they realized that too#rly I just dont want too much expansion on the stuff we already know#some names and work ids would be splendid and Im all for new fragments to try to place in the timeline#I just dont want a log where nikola stares at the camera and monologues abt the duplicant project or smth
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imjustconfuseddd · 1 month
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Alastor eating bitches
Description: Alastor's X Wife!Reader who gets kidnapped and how he deals with that
Alastor's relationship with you is a strong one, the two of of you drawn to each other in an almost supernatural way
But you also trust each other's strengths and aren't prone to stepping in each other's fights
Regardless of how powerful you are
I got your pinkie fingers bby go kick his ass
Holds your shopping bags for you while you go kick ass
Unless of course you ask him to
He likes it when you fix his hair afterwards, preening like a giant rooster as you do
THE POINT IS-
It's not like Alastor spends all his time glued to your hip or sending you out with bodyguards
You can take a damn walk by yourself
You do have a target on back though, if not because of your own strength/actions, then because of your husband
So it's not unusual when someone tries to pick a fight with you
But when you're suddenly ambushed and kidnapped, against the fact that you fought hard to avoid it
Fucking holy weapons
That's new
Well I suppose you'll just have to wait for your husband to come and get you out of this mess
*spits out blood*
Not you bragging about how fucked your kidnappers are once Alastor gets there
He's already going to be mad that they kidnapped his wife, but the fact that they've now put hands on you??? Made you bleed???
Oh they're so fucked
So just sit back and look pretty while you wait for your boo to come and rescue you
And you do look pretty
Keep your damn hands off
Alastor knows something is up when you don't come home, knows that someone must've gotten to you
If the old geezer watched tv maybe he would've known a little sooner
Maybe he would've known that your little fight made the news
Tf was he gonna do?? Wait for it to show up in the papers??
BREAKING NEWS!! RADIO DEMON'S BABE WIFE GETS KIDNAPPED AFTER EPIC BATTLE!
But when Angel shows him that you've been kidnapped Alastor literally just-
Makes this face:
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Oh he's getting his wife back
RIP Angel's phone 😭
He's visibly very calm about the whole thing though, which makes the others even more worried
"Well then! I suppose I'll have to get Y/N back myself, won't I? You all wait here, I won't be long now~"
Alastor does give them a chance to give you back before he comes and hunts them down
It's one of the most terrifying radio broadcasts people have listened to but this is his WIFE we're talking about
On the inside he is VERY ANGRY
Even if they do bring you back he still eats them
Fuck them he never promised them anything
They took and HURT HIS WIFE
If they don't bring you back then they're going to be subjected to slaughter like they've never known before being eaten
Not him using his massive demonic form to rip apart their safe house
Anyone who doesn't know Alastor like you do will think he's being surprisingly playful about it all
But as his wifers you know he's raging by the look in his eyes 👀 not merely playing with his food
Not wifey just sitting back and admiring Alastor while he works 💅✨️
Damn this is really doing it for me
Admires how elegantly you stretch and rub your wrists after your bindings are undone, so graceful even after taking a beating
"Thank you, Alastor~ Right on time as always~"
He begs to differ
"Anything for you, my dear."
Won't really look at you until you grab his chin and force him to, Alastor giving you a guilty smile
Le kiss
Leans in to touch foreheads with you, the two of relaxing in each other's arms amongst the carnage
Casually licks the blood off your face to ruin the moment before taking your arm
"Now let's get you home, my darling~"
Doesn't leave you alone for the rest of the night, trying to hide the fact that he's fretting over you
You want to take a bath and get cleaned up? He'll help you!
You want to lay down and rest after a stressful day? He's actually pretty tired too so you two should go to bed together
Will 100% broadcast their screaming souls as a warning to anyone else who wants to try that little stunt again
Falls asleep to it actually, one arm wrapped around you as he drifts off so that when he wakes up, he'll know you're right there with him
He doesn't think any less of you, he's been beat before too
Don't remind him
Will absolutely call himself your hero for like a week straight and land himself in the doghouse by the end of it
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yxami · 4 months
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Yandere creep that craves your attention when you’re not near and across the classroom with others. Why can’t you just talk with him? He’s interesting right?
He hasn’t even gotten the opportunity to show you the poisonous flowers he sealed into a heart shape with silica gel. Just so it would never die and you wouldn’t get a reaction from it either.
He knew you didn’t like dead things like he did so he was really hoping this would make you happy.
He plays with the gift in his hands, trying to distract himself from looking up since it only hurt him more to see you laughing and smiling. Maybe you’d approach him when you got tired of those two.
“Hellooooo??” You say, sitting backwards in the seat pressed against his desk as you lean down to look at his solemn, now surprised face. “I’ve already said your name five times, what’s up?”
“Sor-sorry..!! I didn’t realize you were right there” He looks up, cheeks heating up from embarrassment that he hadn’t noticed you sooner. When did you even appear in-front of him? Where were your friends?
“Did you not sleep enough or something? You look less alive than usual” You bring his face close, using both of your thumbs to rub at his eyebags. “You need to sleep more”
“Ok-okay..” He tries not stumbling over his words as his pale cheeks darken even more, he’s avoiding all and every opportunity to make eye contact with you, something he’s never done, but you’re so close! How can he look at you when you’re just inches away from his face???
“Where your um… friends? Did they have to go?” He looks around for a moment, unable to detect whether they’re still in the classroom before you immediately responded.
“Nah, just got bored, I wanted to talk to you and thank you for not leaving any more dead things at my door either” You take your hands away from his face, much to his dismay. He swore his heart was about to start pumping loud enough for you to hear.
He could feel butterflies flutter in his stomach at the fact that you chose to hangout with him, you left your friends to talk to him. He must be doing something right if it means you chose to do that willingly, and now it has him even more drunk on the emotion he couldn’t name.
“About that, the gifting thing, I uh.. wanted to give you this” He holds up a clear encased lily of the valley in heart shaped form, becoming more transparent in the sunlight rays piercing it, it looked so pretty and well made you thought for a moment he had bought it.
“It took me a bit cause I didn’t know how to work with the mold.. I hope you like it” He softly spoke, placing it in your open palm as you admire it, he’s left nervously fiddling with his fingers like always, praying that you liked it.
“It’s so pretty, I know I told you not to get any poisonous flowers but this is a nice way to put it” You recall last time he tried bringing flowers but ended up failing because you had fallen asleep so he just left some daisy’s at your door. “I love it”
He perks up at your words, anxiety washing away easily just with those few. “I’m happy you like it, I could bring you more things everyday if you’d let me” He finally looks up to have his eyes meet with yours, hoping you’d allow him to continue this routine of gift giving.
Maybe one day, the right gift will make you so happy that you’ll want to date him. That’s his dream until he can at least manage to even say will you date me to the plushie he has that resembles you.
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ghostaholics · 8 months
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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓
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➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn!reader (aside from a single idiom whose origin uses masculine language/pronouns - every man for himself) ➸ SUMMARY: Against all odds, the Lieutenant accidentally falls asleep on your shoulder. Unfortunately, there are witnesses to the precarious situation (just your luck that it would be Gaz and Soap). ➸ WORD COUNT: 2k
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𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄: don't poke the bear.
Danger in your line of work typically consists of trying to walk away from a mission while still being left completely intact (i.e. the goal is to make it out alive, in one piece). You’ve survived a great number of ordeals: cornered into a shootout with a dwindling supply of ammo, tiptoed your way through a field of pressure-sensitive IEDs, dove towards probable death (with an awfully high probability of splattering onto hot, concrete hell like a bug on a windshield) because your helo was sent tail spinning courtesy of a perfectly-aimed RPG – and really, the list goes on.
It's been child’s play, in the grand scheme of things. An extensive catalogue of life-or-death scenarios accounts for your entire military career. And sure, this might be a bit of a stretch, but you'd wager that none of those instances thus far have been as high-stakes as the current predicament you’ve found yourself in.
Jesus-fucking-Christ. Why’d Ghost have to fall asleep on you?
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𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: avoid sitting next to him on the plane ride home. You've had to learn it the hard way.
And the kicker is that this whole thing could’ve been avoided; it didn’t have to be your problem. You could’ve sentenced any one of the other soldiers to your seat. Every man for himself, right? Get off scot-free, have a normal trip back to base with plenty of legroom so that you’re not cramped. Theoretically, it would've been beautiful – a passenger's paradise, the closest you could get to a first-class ticket.
But no.
Instead, play the Good Samaritan; extend your hand out with an act of benevolence. What’s the harm, right? So, you'd spared the poor guy, said you wouldn't mind switching places with him because he'd looked as white as a damn sheet at the idea of being crammed beside this behemoth of a lieutenant who's infamously every FNG's living nightmare.
Yeah, well hindsight is 20/20. Had you known what was going to happen, you would've had no reservations about throwing him under the bus. Sayonara, mate.
Law of the jungle, plain and simple.
To make matters worse, he is, in fact, exhibiting terrible flight etiquette. His head (which is dead weight and feels about as pleasant as a fucking bowling ball, mind you) has taken up every inch of real estate on your shoulder and is practically tucked into the curve of your neck; you’ll need to take a trip to the chiropractor’s after this – several, probably. The edge of his skull mask is digging into you. And, the cherry on top: get this – he’s man-spreading, so his left leg's trespassing into your own territory and brushing against your thigh. Utter lack of regard for personal space.
Incredible.
You’d still rather die than wake him up, though. You're not sure what'll happen if you do, but that's a risk you're not willing to take.
All things considered, an achy shoulder is a much better alternative than incurring the wrath of one angry Lieutenant. He's more subdued in this kind of context. To be completely honest, if you weren't already well-acquainted with him, you'd find it endearing.
From here, it's easy to see the simple rise and fall of his chest, steady and even. Slow inhale in, slow exhale out. He's at peace, a rhythmic lull that matches your own breathing. You can't quite put your finger on the exact moment he fell asleep. (He's got a habit of shutting his eyes and folding his arms over his chest when he isn't in the mood to converse with the other soldiers onboard. But God willing, he would never voluntarily loll his head onto your shoulder.) For what it's worth, he deserves the rest – never been one to do it this soundly as countless missions have taught you that he's usually a light sleeper. You remember him roughly prodding the toe of his boot at Soap's arm once when the Scot was conked out and his snores were a bit loud for Ghost's taste.
Rather odd then, that the Lieutenant even managed to allow himself to doze off like this. It’s too loud, too unsteady – the droning of the plane engine doesn't exactly make for good white noise and the turbulence outside is jostling the cabin around. Moreover, this puts him in a position of vulnerability, and he’s not the type to let his guard down so easily.
But somehow he did it with you beside him.
You try not to think about the implications of that.
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𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄.
Because, Soap's just woken up from his nap, the first among the entire company of soldiers in the cabin still sleeping, excluding yourself. His seat's parallel to yours, straight across the walkway within direct line of sight, so he’s got an unobstructed view of you and Ghost. Soap sends a questioning glance in your direction, eyebrow quirked. A look that says, The hell's going on?
The level of your voice is down; it's at a conservative decibel to avoid rousing the others. Yet you convey your distress with the same amount of passion as if you were stuck in the middle of a losing firefight. "MacTavish, help."
Soap works with bombs for a living. Surely, he's capable of defusing situations too.
Alright the man’s a demolitions expert, but that’s semantics.
He blinks like he's trying to make sense of the situation. Though, it's pretty obvious what the problem is here. You're not sure why he’s got to take a moment and contemplate it. You need a solution, now. And he's moving at a snail's pace.
For a second, you think he might sympathize with your plight.
But then his mouth morphs into a shit-eating grin and when he nudges Gaz awake, you know right then and there that you're absolutely fucked.
More witnesses.
Great.
Because that’s just what you need, isn’t it?
Gaz drags a hand down his face. He pans over to his right to figure out why he’s been jolted awake so suddenly, and sees Soap who’s inexplicably, nauseatingly jovial before his eyes land on you.
Much like Soap’s original reaction, Gaz can’t help but offer a quizzical expression. The confusion is evident. His brows are drawn together because he knows that the L.t. wouldn't fall asleep on your shoulder.
Soap's shifting, sliding his hand into his pocket before pulling out his phone. He messes with it – a few taps here, a few swipes there. And then before you're registering what's happening, he's aiming it straight at you, like one of those mums getting a snapshot of their kids in matching jumpers during the holidays.
"Say cheese."
An indignant gasp leaves your mouth. "If you so much as—
"Soap, no. Don't do that." Gaz says from beside him, plucking the phone out of his hands. He tsks him with a click of his tongue. Stern disapproval in spades. The meaning is clear: it’s a big thumbs down from the Brit. He’s not endorsing this type of behavior. “Gone mad now, have you?” he asks in admonishment.
You release a sigh of relief. Finally, some moral support. He's reliable. Your faith in him is unshakable. Always could count on Gaz to get you out of—
"Have to shoot with a wide angle, see? Or else it'll look wonky," he corrects, flipping the phone horizontally before handing it back to Soap.
"Aye, thanks mate.”
Gaz's smile isn't as excessive as Soap's but the smirk gracing his face tells you he's relishing in your misery all the same.
Fucking traitor.
"Knobheads—"
They’d risk their own hides to save you from certain death. You've seen it in Cairo, Valencia, and Seoul. Good men. Good hearts in the right place as well. However, they're also the type to embarrass you at every opportunity – public humiliation being somewhere on that roster as well. And for that, you want to strangle them.
"Rude,” Soap comments pointedly.
"Bite me, MacTavish."
"Just wake him up if it's bothering you," Gaz supplies unhelpfully.
"If you were in my shoes, would you do it?"
"'Course, not," he snorts. "I don’t have a death wish.”
“Well, I also prefer my head on my shoulders, thank you very much," you whisper furiously, nearly hissing at him.
And Soap is admiring his handiwork, when he coos, “Aw, the two o' you make quite the pair." He briefly twists the screen so that you can catch a glimpse of it, and even from this distance, you can confirm that he's captured the shot. Annoyingly well, to add insult to injury. Angle? Spot-on. Lighting? Brilliant. It's interesting, has character. Black and white photography. He's managed to make a stunning composition and your upper lip is curling up into a sneer of disgust at his artistic eye. How infuriating.
"I'll send this to the Cap. He’ll get a kick outta it."
"Sod off."
"He'll appreciate bein' included."
Gaz matches the energy with an equally gleeful smile, now delighted by the idea. “Hey, and the L.t. he looks—”
“—cute," Soap has the audacity to finish for him.
What.
There are many words that you’d use to describe Ghost.
Cutthroat, maybe. Imposing. Glacial. Taciturn. A stringent set of ideals that makes him the perfect soldier: disciplined, honed, fierce. Intimidating, if he's not fighting on your side – someone you'd much rather have on your team than against, unless you fancied death. He can be a stone-cold terror on occasion. The man’s been penned as a walking horror story by those in the military. Given his iron-hearted demeanor, you'd be hard-pressed to disagree with that statement; there's not much room to call his steel-encased resolve into question.
So, yeah. Above all else, he's certainly not cute.
Your eyes narrow at them. "Congratulations, the both of you have officially made the top of my shitlist."
Soap, indifferent to your crisis, asks, "Want a copy for your wallpaper?"
There's another heated remark waiting on the tip of your tongue, because there's no way in hell that you would and you're ready to tell him off, about to give him an earful.
But somebody else beats you to it.
“Wipe that picture, or I’ll wring your bloody necks.”
Ice surges through your veins. Goosebumps break out across your skin. Because that voice belongs to one person. Oh, Christ. Never in a million years would you want to be on the receiving end of it.
There's anxiety warping in your chest. You're scared stiff, paralyzed with fear in a way that implores you to remain stock-still. The coarse fabric of your trousers bunches underneath your palms as you try not to freak out. This isn't your fault. None of it is.
And here's the worst part: Ghost hasn't lifted his head from your shoulder yet.
But Soap's unfazed. He blinks a couple of times, seems like he's weighing his options – as if there's something else he could choose besides following his lieutenant's command – yeah, right. He wises up, settling for a simple answer in the end. "Alright, Ghost." His smile makes a reappearance, sweet and well-meaning. Troublemaker. "Any chance you'd like a copy before I do away with it?"
"What kind of fuckin' question is that, Johnny?" he grumbles. "Obviously."
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𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄:
"I take it you don't think I'm cute then. Have I got that right?"
"I'm sorry... mind repeating that again, sir?"
"You didn't have anything to say about Soap's comment."
"I have a feeling that whatever I answer will get my arse handed to me, L.t."
He's smiling in response – like sunshine trapped behind clouds. Despite it being obscured by the mask, you can see his eyes crinkling at the corners, which makes the black charcoal that's lining them begin to crease a bit. "Permission to speak freely, Sergeant. You have the floor."
Your mouth parts in surprise. Well, then. Maybe you stand corrected. And so, you appraise him momentarily, giving it some serious thought. There's more to Ghost than you give him credit for. He's terse and rough around the edges, but respected for a reason. Admirable. Someone you think highly of and has deserved your approval. The mask undeniably provides an air of intrigue. “I suppose you can be,” you start off, gradually warming up to him being more approachable. “When you’re not terrorizing the new recruits, that is.”
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lovelettersfromluna · 2 months
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Compass
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Summary: I’ve got something to confess, I keep you in my pocket to use. You’re my only compass, I might get lost with you.
an: let’s ignore the fact that I’ve been gone for a long time, yeah? Hehe. this most definitely is not the fic that I’ve been working on literally the entire time I’ve been gone (that’s coming don’t worry), but I got this idea at 2 in the morning and I had to jump on it IMMEDIATELY. Hope you all like it mwah mwah love you.
Warnings: SMUT!! Minors please for the love of everything that is good, do not interact, modern day vampire!Ellie, semi graphic descriptions of blood and wounds, shy!reader, Ellie bites you a lot, Ellie feeds on you and honestly it’s borderline soft core porn, fingering Ellie!receiving, grinding, mentions of bruises, Ellie is extremely fucking strong, Ellie watches you in your sleep/can get into your apartment without a key, let me know if I’ve missed anything!!
You aren’t really sure how you and Ellie became friends.
Well, you are, maybe a better question would be why you two became friends. You were both so different, you were convinced the first time you met that she hated you. The night filled with quick glances as she damn near avoided speaking to you like you were the fucking plague. It took you a bit to not take it too personally, reminding yourself that you weren’t for everyone, and that was okay! So what if the mutual friend didn’t like you…it wasn’t the end of the world.
So, it came to a surprise to you when a few nights after meeting Ellie passed, you had not one, not two, but three of your friends texting you and asking you if it was okay if they gave her your number…
Because she’d asked for it.
And suddenly you’re texting each other every day, and well into the wee hours of the night. You know, like one of those friendships. The ones that makes you smile every time you see their name pop up on your phone, or the ones where you send each other stupid videos on TikTok all day just to talk about them on a different messaging platform, because of course you’re interacting with each other every where that you have a presence.
Ellie becomes your best friend before you even realize it, and it makes you realize that maybe she didn’t dislike you as much as you thought before.
It always did confuse you a bit in the beginning how you two got along so well. You were both so different from one another. Ellie was a party animal, you were a home body. Ellie was up late at night, you were up early in the morning. If Ellie was the moon, then you were the sun. Polar opposites coming together to find a home in one another, the most unusual pairing stuck by the hip from that point on.
You of course, kept all each other’s secrets. You’d learned very early on that no one really knew much about Ellie, which you simply chalked up to her being a private person. However, she seemed eager to tell you any and everything about her. Like her dad, she’d talk about him all the time, you figured on early on that she really loved him. Or whenever she had a a new fling going, you’d be the first to know of course. She’d even told you about the time she threw away her dad’s playboy magazine after stealing it from him, which she swore she’d never told a soul.
She wanted to know all about you too! Your favorite color, favorite animal, childhood crush, family relationships. Truthfully? If you weren’t so oblivious, you would’ve seen a long time ago that Ellie was the slightest bit obsessed with you.
But you loved her, and you trusted her with your life, so you told her everything! Because you didn’t keep things from each other.
So, on a night out with everyone else, Ellie disappears, and of course you try to look for her, asking around only to be told that everyone saw her leave. Going outside to make sure she’s okay is the only logical thing to do, right? You have to make sure she’s okay.
What you don’t expect though, is when you look down a dark alleyway a few buildings down from the club you’re at, and spot the tall figure of your friend tucked into the brick wall of the dark corner, shielding way whatever it is that’s behind her. You call out for her, and when she turns around you gasp.
Because her eyes were red, and not red like you haven’t gotten any sleep, or you’ve been crying, the green of her eyes are now red, bloodshot red, and she’s holding a lifeless body in her tattooed arms…and there’s blood covering her pink lips, dripping down her chin.
Yeah, Ellie was a vampire.
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You let out a gentle yawn as your hand went down to grab the remote control to your tv, your other hand coming up to rub your eyes a bit, a sorry attempt at trying to wake yourself up enough to get from the couch to go to your bed.
You pouted softly, lazily bringing your phone up to check the time before you sighed, finally finding the strength in you to push yourself up off the couch to leave your living room.
Work had been absolutely plowing you into the ground, your publicist constantly hounding you to keep working on the most recent installment of your book series. It was just so fucking hard, everytime you sat down in front of your computer, it was like writing your own book was the last thing you wanted to do.
It was draining you, and it felt like every time you finished a set of chapters, your brain was complete mush.
The upside though, was that it tired you out enough to completely knock out once you were in bed.
A gentle sigh left your lips once your head hit your soft pillow, plush blankets wrapping around your body, sliding down your bare legs and making you feel absolutely blissful. You couldn’t even stop yourself from the soft smile on your lips as your eyes grey heavy, the low lighting in your room making you feel all the more cozy, all the more warm.
You were out in seconds, soft snores leaving your sleeping body as you entered a world of dreams, escaping reality for a few measly hours before you were bombarded with the real world around you in the morning.
Ellie was on the other side of town, or at least, leaving the other side of town. It was late, and while she did love to be a creature of the night, there was something that sounded much more inviting than a glass of whiskey and a cigarette.
You, of course.
You were Ellie’s kryptonite, the single thing in this entire fucked up world that convinced her there was something worth living for, in her case, existing for. You were so fucking good, so sweet, so forgiving of literally everything. There were too many times that Ellie recalled where she wasn’t even sure you were real, perhaps another mythical creature much like herself, sent to this world to lure others into a trap that was just as filthy and terrible as the rest of the world.
But you weren’t…there were never any cons or secrets that you held, and if you did hold any secrets, you were more than willing to let Ellie in on them. No…no you were different.
God were you different.
Ellie recalls the night she first laid eyes on you like it was yesterday, her cold, dead heart jolting back to life for only a second when she saw you, at least that’s what it felt like. Your smile radiant in the dim, multicolored lights of the club, cheeks shining, eyes twinkling, like an angel sent from above. Ellie almost felt like a being as evil, and sour as she wasn’t worthy of being in the same room as you.
And god…your fucking smell.
Ellie could go on about it for hours. Sure, you were remarkable without it, but it was just the icing on the cake, the twisting of the knife in her chest.
She has mastered the art of walking into a room filled with warm bodies pumped full of blood and while ago, her throat burning with the urge to sink her teeth into her next poor victim. It was easy, annoying, but easy, and she couldn’t really remember the last time she struggled being around anyone, especially friends, or even friends of a friend.
But the second she saw you, your sweet, dulcet smell wafting against her nose, she was transported back in time. Back to a time where she was but a young vampire, clueless of the world around her, of her new life, adapting to something she didn’t even know existed before all of this, without a single guide or a fucking pamphlet for gods sakes.
It made her eyes widen, and she stopped breathing instantly to try and dull the scent of you sneaking into her nostrils and down into her eager throat. She noticed the way you pouted and sighed whenever she’d ignore you, or give her nothing but a brief response whenever you tried to get to know her. She could tell this wasn’t your thing, the night life, partying, you were here because someone asked it of you, and you being the good friend you are would never let anyone you cared about down.
Despite Ellie being a total dick to you because she simply couldn’t control herself around you, you sucked it up, carried on and stayed until everyone else decided to leave.
Watching you leave that night, made Ellie realize you weren’t something she could pass up.
Asking for your number was probably the best thing Ellie had ever done in her immortal life. Speaking to you was far better than thinking about you constantly, and after she’d convinced herself she wouldn’t do anything stupid with you, she was finally ready to introduce herself to you, the right way.
It’s how she constantly found herself like this, searching for your warm embrace around her cold, dead body every time she found the opportunity. She’d come to you when she was done working, she’d come to you when the girls at the bar were boring her, she’d even come to you when she simply knew you were home and she had nothing to do.
Ellie hummed softly as she looked up at your apartment building, the warm summer breeze wafting against her skin as she stared up at your window, the white curtains blowing out with the wind. She sighs to herself.
“Told you to stop leaving your window open…” she mumbles softly to herself.
The human eye wouldn’t ever be able to catch the way Ellie climbs up the side of your building, her arms and legs scaling it like a pro, making it look as simple as walking, or even breathing. It’s too fast, and in the blink of an eye, she’s at your balcony, long fingers pulling back your curtains to get a look at your sleeping figure.
She watches as your chest rises and falls, your blanket covering your sleeping frame, bare legs kicked out from under them, shining under the moonlight. She isn’t sure how long she stays there at your window staring at you, watching in awe as you do something as simple as sleep.
It isn’t until you shift slightly in your sleep, a dreamy sigh leaving your lips, that Ellie finally pushes her long legs over your window to step into your room, sneaker clad feet pressing onto the wooden floor of your bedroom.
She looks around for a moment, taking a deep inhale as she lets your scent wash over her for a moment, eyes fluttering shut as she simply lets you consume her, fill her up and make her feel whole again.
Make her feel alive again.
You never really understood it, why Ellie lingered when she hugged you, face pressed at the nape of your neck, swaying you slowly as she clung to you longer than normal. Well…you did know, at least you’d find out later on when Ellie finally explained everything to you…what she was, how it happened.
Although, it was only half what you thought. Sure, the smell of your blood made Ellie’s mouth water, her nostrils flare and her throat burn, but it was so much more than that. You made her feel whole, and even if it were a few seconds, she was going to make the most of it every time she got the chance.
And that’s what she felt when she was in your little room. The cool breeze filling up the space, the dim lights casting a warm glow over you because you couldn’t sleep in the dark. You used the excuse of creating an ambiance for yourself when you slept, but Ellie knew you far better than that. It was like you’d perfected the feeling of comfort, bottled it up and sprayed it around your room every other day.
The wind blowing your curtains a bit harder caught Ellie’s attention, and she sighed softly as she walked over to it and shut it. She had told you time and time again to quit it, warning you about the weirdos that would love to take advantage of a pretty girl with her window open while in the most vulnerable state.
Even though the only weirdo that ever snuck into your room through said window, was Ellie. If anything, your little habit only fueled Ellie’s addiction for you further.
The sound of your window closing makes you groan softly in your sleep, and at that sound, Ellie knows she’s done it.
While she wanted nothing more than for you to be awake when she came over, she hated waking you. You looked so fucking serene when you slept, and Ellie felt like the devil himself whenever she accidentally ripped you away from that, even if the only thing she wanted was for you to be awake and talking to her.
Your body twists and turns a bit, slowly finding its way out of the drowsy state of sleep you were in. You let out a gentle yawn before one of your hands come up to rub your eyes, moments before you turn to your side to face her, hand resting between your cheek and your pillow as your eyes open and focus on the tall frame standing in front of your bed.
Ellie is convinced nothing scares you, because for as long as she’d been doing this, sneaking into your bedroom and watching you sleep, on the rare occasion that you wake up and catch her, you never seem scared. You don’t gasp or scream, you don’t even flinch when you see the dark, looming presence stood there in front of you. Ellie was sure the first time you caught her there, that you’d scream in horror before calling the police on her.
But you never did. You always stared at her with a sleepy smile, eyes puffy with sleep, lips a bit swollen, looking at her as if she were your favorite person in the entire world.
And like all those nights before, you do the same. A gentle yawn falls from your lips as you rub your eyes once more before tugging your blanket further up your shoulder.
“Ellie…” you sigh out softly, and you sound so fucking dreamy, so beautiful does her name sound falling from her lips. It makes Ellie weak in the knees.
She walks over to you slowly, smiling softly down at you as she grows closer and closer to your bed until she’s standing over you, one of her hands coming down and running around your blanket clad shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Wanted to come visit…sorry I woke you” she hums soft, her hand traveling up until it reaches your face, one of her fingers caressing your cheek ever so slightly. Your eyes flutter shut at this, and she can see that the gesture alone is nearly enough to lull you back to sleep.
“S’okay…I wake up in the middle of the night all the time…you know that” you assure her, words falling with yet another yawn before you open your sleepy eyes up again to stare up at her.
Before she can even speak though, your content expression is replaced with one of worry as you finally get the chance to focus on her face, your eyebrows furrowing as you prop yourself up on your elbow, your other hand reaching up to touch her cheek as you become more and more alert with each passing moment.
“Are you okay Ellie? You look…why are your eyes so…” you mumble, now on your knees to reach her better, your face in front of hers as your eyes search hers.
She looked pale, paler than usual. Her lips were chapped, eyes dull and sunken in, she looked like she hadn’t slept in centuries, like all the life had been sucked out of her. And while that technically was the case, Ellie often looked vibrant for her dead state, eyes sharp and alert, green eyes almost fluorescent with color when you looked into them.
Immediately, you know what was wrong.
“When’s the last time you…had something to eat?” You ask sternly, eyebrows furrowed and a firm frown on your pouty lips.
That was another thing…Ellie hadn’t properly fed in about two weeks, going on three now.
She let out a gentle sigh, her hands resting on your hips as your own rested on her cheeks, cupping her face and forcing her to look into your eyes even though she avoided eye contact.
She hated when you saw her this way, so weak, so small. She liked it when she was the best version of herself, the version that was well fed, agile and strong. Not like this, not like when she was turning into a shell of the woman she once was.
“I…it’s just been a few nights, angel…it’s no big deal” she tries, giving your hips a firm squeeze as she attempts to convince you that she was fine. However her appearance and her voice is a dead giveaway that she’s lying, the sound hoarse and scratchy, sounding as if she’d been clawing at her throat for days to ease the pain she felt.
“You can’t lie to me, Ellie. You look horrible” you scold the girl.
She lets out a sigh, and she almost feels ashamed of herself. Sure, there were times where a meal was a bit harder to come by, people becoming a bit more aware of the danger that lingered when she was near, but god, Ellie couldn’t remember a time where it was this bad. It was like every single time she got someone in her arms, trapped in her little scheme, something cock blocked her entirely from finishing the deed.
And the more times that happened, the weaker she got.
“I’ve just been really unlucky…okay? Most of us do this in packs or with a fucking partner at least…it gets tricky when you’re on your own” she finally admitted, a gentle sigh falling from her lips as she leaned down to rest her head against your shoulder, pressing her weight against you in the process, as it was slowly becoming unbearable to hold it up herself at this point.
“M’just going through a thing right now, baby…don’t worry about it” she mumbled against you, lips ghosting over your soft skin as she again tried to assure you she’d been fine.
Ellie had always made it a point to never get as low as this, and if she did, she made it a point to never let you see her. What would her sweet best friend think of her if the monster she truly was had the chance to shine through? How would you ever allow her in your presence again once you finally realized how disgusting she truly was?
What Ellie didn’t know, is that you didn’t think any of those things. You could never find her to be a monster or disgusting, you adored her far too much to ever see her that way. No, what you did think when you saw her that way, were any of the things you could do to help her. That was the only thing you wanted, to help her.
You don’t even think twice before you say it, giving yourself a moment to mull over the idea and weigh out the pros and cons before it’s escaping the confides of your mind and making its debut out into your bedroom.
“Feed on me” you blurt out, so quickly you aren’t even sure Ellie fully catches it properly.
But she does, Ellie hears every word, every syllable, she can even hear the way your heart beat quickens after you’ve said it.
She’s slowly lifting her head from your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed and lips frowning as she stares down at you, your eyes wide and hopeful, hopeful that she’ll take the offer, that she’ll allow you to give yourself to her for the sake of her wellbeing.
“No.” She deadpans without a second thought. She doesn’t even give herself a second to indulge in the idea of it, knowing how badly it could end, how terrible it could be with one wrong move, or one gulp too much. Ellie knows that this is nothing to toy with, especially with you.
You’re quickly shaking your head once she rejects your offer, your hands falling from her face to rest down on her shoulders, leaning in a bit to press your body closer to hers.
“Ellie…look at yourself. How were you even able to climb up here?” You plead with the girl, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze before you inhale deeply.
“I’m giving you permission…I want you to do this” your words almost come out like a beg, wanting nothing more than to simply help the girl, to help a friend in need that clearly needed it.
And you knew deep down, that no matter what, Ellie would never hurt you.
Ellie knew it too. She knew that she wouldn’t go too far to take your life away from you. She had been around long enough to have the self control to stop whenever she knew you’d had too much.
However, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be hard.
She inhaled deeply, giving your hips a gentle squeeze before she finally brought her own eyes up to look into yours. Her pink tongue darted out to run along her lips, wetting the chapped skin before she let out a gentle sigh.
“You’ll tell me when it becomes too much…right?” She asks, desperate for confirmation from you that you won’t let her go too far, even if she wanted to.
You give her a bright smile, a gentle giggle leaving your lips as you nod. “I will…now go on…sooner you do this, the sooner I can sleep” you tease her playfully, which makes her groan softly with a pout.
She sighed softly, reaching forward and pushing your hair to the side to expose the soft, supple skin of your neck. Her eyes zeroed in on it, and she could practically see your pulse from beneath your skin, making her shudder at the thought of it. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your throat, which earns a gentle sigh from you.
“This’ll hurt…” she mumbles against you, peppering your skin with gentle kisses. You simply tilt your head further to the side, resting your temple against her shoulder as your arms hang loosely around her neck, your body pressed against hers.
“Mm…I’ll be okay” you mumble out sleepily, your fingers coming up to toy with the hair at the nape of her neck.
Ellie can feel the way your pulse slows under her lips, and she has to stop herself from groaning due to how fucking strong your smell was right now with your body pressed against hers. She knew that the longer the stood her, mouthing away at your neck instead of actually feeding, she’d just keep you from getting back to the rest that she had interrupted in the first place.
It was now or never.
She sighed softly, swallowing thickly before she opened her mouth a bit wider, fangs protruding out from her gums and taking their rightful place. She let them graze your skin, the sharp teeth sure to leave scratches from something as small as a graze, before she finally latched her lips to your throat, and sunk her teeth into your flesh.
Now…Ellie had her fair share of tasty meals within her immortal life time. There were maybe a handful of people that left a faint memory in her head, better than most of the others she’d fed on in her past, so she was no stranger to a warm body with a nice taste.
But you? God….there was nothing in this world that could’ve prepared Ellie for how fucking…divine you taste. It was like liquid gold on her tongue, the smell that had plagued her mind from the moment she met you a mere tease to the real deal. It made Ellie moan against you, her eyes fluttering shut as her tattooed hands clawed at your waist, gripping the skin so tightly she was sure to leave bruises, pressing you flush against her body.
She could practically feel the essence of your life filling her up and bringing all of her strength back, replacing the once empty, dull feeling in her body with one that could only be described as rejuvenation. The taste you gave her flowing into her mouth and making her feel like she’d died and gone to heaven.
The noises you made only aided Ellie in her blissful state, tiny moans and huffs leaving your lips as you continued massaging her scalp with gentle fingers, allowing her to take whatever she needed from you.
Ellie knew she could’ve drained you, taken every last drop of your life and left you dry. She could do it ten times over if it were an option, however it wasn’t, and she knew at the back of her head she could only take what she needed, and nothing more. So she knew once your grip around her neck loosened a bit, that she needed to stop.
She unlatched from your neck breathlessly, your crimson blood painting her plush lips, red eyes blown out wide as she eyed the damage she’d done to your poor neck, the punctures filling Ellie’s chest with a sense of pride as some of your blood and her saliva dripped down the base of your throat. She leaned in, licking you clean before pressing a gentle kiss to the wound, groaning softly as when she heard you hum softly.
“All…finished?” You mumbled out with a dreamy smile on your lips, eyes half lidded as you stared up at the girl who had just nearly sucked you dry.
Ellie stared down at you with a look of disbelief, the back of her hand coming up and wiping her lips. “You said you’d tell me to stop…” she groaned softly as she gently set you down to lay back on your bed.
You let out a soft yawn, nodding as you tugged your blanket up with a weak hand to drape over your body. “I was…you stopped sooner than anticipated” you giggled out sleepily before you eyed the girl from your bed, already feeling the drowsy affects of sleep taking over.
“You look better already, El…” your compliment made her dead heart swell. She could feel it too, your life coursing through her veins and bringing back all of the good aspects of being immortal, the strength, the radiance, all of it brought back because of you.
She chuckled softly at your words, walking over to your closet and grabbing your first aid kit, fishing a little band aid out before walking back towards you. She sat at the edge of the bed, her pointer and middle finger pushing your jaw up slightly to get a look at the wound she’d given you.
“Here…so you don’t get blood on your pillow” she explains as she pressed the bandaid to your neck. You simply hum in response, and Ellie knows you’re probably already asleep. Between being tired before all of this, and losing blood, she expected for you to be out like a light long before she bid you a goodnight.
She stays a bit longer after you’ve fallen asleep, her long limbs crawling over your body to lay in bed with you, marveling at the way the color returned to your body, the way your chest rose and fell slowly, the way your lips would part with a gentle sigh ever so often. She’d let her hands caress your skin, watching as goosebumps appeared to trail after them. She simply appreciated how human you were, how warm and responsive you were even during sleep.
She leaves once the sun begins to peak above the horizon, knowing you’d want your privacy when you woke up in a few hours. She makes sure to close your window after she’s left too, scaling down the building much quicker than she did when she first arrived.
And while she walks home, the sun slowly casting a warm glow onto the city she lived in, she knew that she’d made a mistake by feeding on you.
Because now? She was completely and utterly ruined for anyone else that she’d feed on after you.
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Bloodlust
The word had entirely different meaning for those like Ellie, creatures of the night that fed on the essence of life, the scarlet, metallic liquid that flowed and pumped throughout the bodies of the living.
She had heard of it happening to other vampires, in an instance of finding the human being that acted as a drug to them, making it hard to function without their taste on their tongues. It was an occasion that only ever happened when there was a mutual agreement between a vampire and a human, a hunter/prey proposition that acted in a more…ethical way.
It consumed the one feeding, making it hard to function without the person near, almost creating an inseparable bond between the two, paired with a constant line of food with it as well. It took over nearly everything, mind, body, soul, all of it belonging to the person they fed on, the human often times having more control over the vampire.
Ellie never really believed in it, instead viewing blood as something that was of and in itself, the same all the time. Sure, there were some people that tasted better than others, but blood was blood, no matter who the person was, they were more or less all the same at the end of the day. A meal was a meal, and that was that.
So if that was true, why were you the only thing on Ellie’s mind every waking second after the night she fed on you?
You were always on Ellie’s mind before it all, lingering at the back, making her smile when she thought of something silly you’d said to her earlier in the week, face beaming whenever you’d send a text her way, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that you were on her mind.
She thought of it constantly, the way you were so…so fucking eager for her, a sense of intimacy lingering in the air of an act so selfless. Your pouty lips parted as you moaned and sighed her name, her lips attached to your neck as you gave her everything. Feeding was always something that felt the slightest bit romantic, the closeness of it all.
But you…doing it with you was different than anything she’d ever experienced.
She knew it meant nothing to you, she knew that it was simply you being a good friend, which meant it was borderline wrong for her to take it any way other than what it was, but she couldn’t help herself. She could still taste you on her tongue when she got home, plopping down into her bed and staring up at the ceiling in her dark room as she felt her core tighten and flutter as she referenced back to the memory.
Ellie couldn’t help herself when she unbuttoned her jeans, slipped her hands down to cup her pussy, and caught her aching clit against her calloused fingers to give it some much needed attention.
And she moaned your name as if it were the only word in her vocabulary, blubbering and crying out for you as she angrily fucked her aching pussy, eyebrows furrowed to the point where she almost looked upset.
“F-fuck….that’s my fucking girl…that’s it…gonna cum all over your pretty fuckin’ face” she groaned out, picturing you settled between her legs, eagerly lapping at her weeping core, grinding down onto your face and giving you everything she had, much like you did when you allowed her to feed on you.
She’d cum with your name falling from her lips, back arching as her hips rolled against her palm, sopping wet cunt painting her slick all over her hand, making it hard to even keep it where she needed it with how wet she was, how fucking riled up you had her.
And she’d do it again, lying in her bed and thinking of the memory over and over again, hanging on to the sound of your voice sighing out her name, moaning for her as she licked her lips, searching for the taste of your blood still soaked on them. All while you were sound asleep in your apartment where she left you.
If Ellie thought she was drawn to you before, she was sorely mistaken. Because now? All she could do was crave you. It interrupted her day to day, made her brain foggy when she wasn’t with you or talking to you.
And soon? It became a habit.
Ellie was at your door every other night, long fingers searching for your hips to pull you closer as she pressed her face into your neck, tongue slipping out of her mouth to run along the now permanent marks on your neck, whispering in your ear about how badly she needed you.
It had become a bit of a routine, Ellie would come over, you’d let her feed on you until she saw fit, she’d go home and fuck herself, and then she would live in her own personal hell for the next few days that she wasn’t able to see you.
It’s how she found herself dragging her body down the hallway to your apartment, a heavy hand coming up to the door and giving it a firm knock.
When you answer, Ellie thinks you look like a dream. Your body is leaned up against the door, head resting against it as you give her a dreamy smile, oversized t-shirt hanging off of one of your shoulders, sleep shorts barely visible beneath the end of the shirt, hugging your ass so perfectly, your white socks bunched up at your ankles.
She has to bite back the moan that threatens to escape when she lays eyes on you.
“Mm…hi Ellie” your voice sounds like the sweetest melody, and she’s smiling sheepishly as she walks towards you, bending her knees a bit as she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her tall frame, nearly light you up off the ground completely.
“There she is…” she sighed against you, and it sounds like Ellie can finally breath, like the weight holding her back from breathing in the air she so desperately needed has finally been granted to her, it makes you giggle softly.
You wrap your arms around her neck, humming softly as your fingers come up to tangle in her hair, simultaneously pulling her into your apartment. She kicks the door closed behind her, arms still wrapping you up and keeping you close.
She keeps you close, her head coming up to take a look at the set up you have going in that she’s walked in to. She can tell you’ve been working on your book, your laptop set on your couch paired with your favorite blanket, and a mug set on your coffee table that was still steaming.
“Working on the book?” She asked softly, you nod as you turn around in your arms, and excited smile on your face as you walk over to your spot, clicking the keypad a few times before you shut it.
“Yup. I’m getting pretty far….was wrapping it up right before you came over” you practically beamed.
Ellie always found it so endearing how dedicated you were to your work, and rightfully so, Ellie reminded you time and time again that she’d lived through many eras of famous writers, but you always topped them ten times over and then some. She’d never let you forget the talent you had was rare.
You plopped down on your couch after sliding your laptop into its little compartment under your coffee table, your legs coming up to cross over each other as you pat the spot next to you eagerly, to which she easily obliged of course.
Her old denim jacket rustled a bit as she sat down, resting her back against your couch as she slouched down a bit, legs spread as she stares up at you through the dim, cozy lighting of your living room.
You giggle softly, resting your cheek against your palm as you look down at her. “What are you staring at? You’re looking at me like I’m something to eat…” your words trail off, eyes narrowing at the girl playfully before you sit up, crossing your arms.
“Did you come all the way here to get a free meal out of me, Williams?” Your tone is accusing, but playful, and it makes Ellie chuckle as she bring her tattooed hands up to rub up and down her face before she groans.
“When you say it like that it sounds bad….I see it as seeing my favorite person with something extra added into it…” she defends herself before chuckling, looking back at you as she tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking gently on the plump skin, letting her mind linger to imagine it was your lips she was sucking on instead as her eyes slowly zeroed in on them, similar to if she were under a spell.
“You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to…” she mumbled out softly, voice gentle and truthful.
It was true, Ellie would cut all of this out the second you made even the slightest signal that you were tired of it, or if your body simply couldn’t handle it anymore. She knew that she’d never use you as her personal blood bag. The minute you wanted out, you got it, no questions asked.
You give her a gentle smile though, shaking your head as you shifted your body a bit so that it was now laying down on the end of the couch opposite of Ellie, your head resting against one of the plush pillows you had next to you while you were writing. You spread your legs a bit, making space for Ellie to crawl into before you stretched your arms out for her, a silent call for the girl to come closer.
“I’ll always give it to you, El…you know that. Come…” you call her again with a slight flick of your wrist.
Your words make Ellie’s head swirl, all of it sounding, and feeling, much too similar to something else, something more than just a friend helping another friend out. It sounds like you’re giving something else to her, something she’d dreamt of taking from you from the moment she laid eyes on you.
But she can’t indulge in that, not now, not when you’re being so kind.
She chokes back a groan, the girl slowly crawling over your body, similar to a predator creeping over its prey. Her body consuming yours as she pressed either one of her palms into the plush couch near your head, staring into your eyes as she settled between your warm thighs, the plush skin pressing against a sliver of her hips that was exposed at the top of her jeans. The feeling of her body pressed against your warm cunt, the only thing separating the two of you being the think material of your shorts, drove Ellie to the brink of insanity.
She hummed softly, her eyes trailing down your every feature, taking you in, eating you up for a moment before she grabbed your chin, tilting your head up and away to give her better access to the little area of your throat that had now become hers and only hers.
Soon, she’s leaning down, her body pressed against yours as she peppers kisses along your jaw until she reaches your throat, licking at the two little wounds that were in the shape of her fangs before she sighed against your skin, finally giving in and letting her protruding fangs sink into your skin.
You’d always been comfortable around Ellie, never shying away from her touch whenever she’d grab you whenever you were out together, or letting her easily pull you into her lap whenever you watched movies or played video games together, intimate touches never being out of the ordinary in your relationship.
But now, ever since you and her had started…whatever it was that you’d been doing, you had seemed to cross a boundary that was once put up. What was once little sighs and huffs, turned into full on moans whenever Ellie would press her body against yours and take what she wanted. You’d grip her hair, keeping her close as you moaned and whined out her name, breathless begs for her to keep going.
“Fuck…Ellie…” you moaned out for her, your eyes fluttering shut as your fingers laced into her brown hair, keeping her close as her hands moved from either sides of your head to instead grip your body. Your hips were her favorite, holding onto the plush skin and keeping you close, massaging and kneading you as she pleased, a small piece of her wanting to bruise you up, just so she knew she was able to leave marks on you other than your neck.
It egged her on further, your calls for her making her swipe her tongue over the wound before she continued sucking your sweet essence from your body. Ellie wasn’t sure if you were fond of it at first, but now? With how you reacted? She was sure you enjoyed it, if even a little bit.
She became so drunk off of you, her mind clouded with the intense flavor of your blood, nearly choking on it with how quickly she drank sometimes. One of her hands left your hips, sliding down until she gripped your thigh, pulling it up and closer to wrap around her body, massaging the soft skin as she let one of her legs slip over your other one, so that her thigh was slotted against your cunt, and yours against hers.
Ellie didn’t even realize it at first, but she slowly began to grind into you, letting her thigh rub against your barely clothed pussy as she drank from you, her senses completely overwhelmed with just how fucking good you tasted, how good you felt. She felt her mind and body buzz with electricity when she pressed her chest against yours, and she could feel your nipples hardening through the thin material of your shirt, pressing against her own chest.
“Mm…h-hah…Ellie..I….Ellie please…” you begged, and Ellie was able to hear the way your voice was slowly going, growing more and more hoarse with every moan, every pant.
She was taking too much, and she wasn’t sure if she was begging for you to stop, or to keep going.
Ellie groaned loudly against you, prying her lips away from your dulcet neck, panting loudly as she pulled away further to look down at you, letting herself get a good look at the mess she’d made of you.
Your lips were swollen, eyes growing heavy, skin getting dull. Your hair was messy, and your shirt was pulled down further, revealing more of your shoulder and collar bones, while the bottom was pushed up to show more of your stomach.
It was like a dream and a nightmare all at once.
You blinked a few times as you tried catching your breath, staring up at Ellie as one of your hands came up to cup her cheek gently.
“A-all better?” You stuttered out, giving her that notorious dreamy smile of yours, the one that made Ellie feel like she was the only person in the world that got to see it.
She’s drained you, and yet you were asking if she felt better.
Ellie held back a groan, her large hand wrapping around your wrist before she brought your hand down to press a kiss to your palm, giving you a gentle nod before she inhaled deeply to control the emotions that threatened to escape while she saw you this way.
“Always when I’m with you baby” she chuckled out sadly.
The smile you give Ellie nearly has her in tears, because you look so genuinely happy, so content with the fact that you’ve helped her, that you’ve made Ellie feel better, even if it’s at the expensive of your own comfort.
At the expensive of your own life.
“I’m glad…” you hummed out softly before you yawned, clearly tired out from what Ellie had done to you. It makes Ellie frown, and she’s quickly pushing herself off of you before she scoops you up into her arms to carry you off to your bedroom.
Soon, she has you tucked into bed, your eyes closing almost as soon as your head hits the pillow, and Ellie has your blankets pulled up over your arms. It’s almost mind blowing how quickly you fall asleep, it makes Ellie feel a bit jealous, because she can’t remember a time where she was that comfortable in a bed to fall asleep so fast.
She watches you, of course. Sticking around for a few hours after you’ve slept, keeping an eye on you to make sure your chest continues to rise and fall slowly. She knows it would never go that far, but she always gets nervous after feeding.
Tonight was also different, and it was eating away at her because she knew there wasn’t really a right or wrong way to go about cleaning about it, or comforting you about how wrong this was, and how much Ellie had been draining you. Even the fact that you expected it of her when she came over left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that replaced the sweet one that usually lingered on her tongue after she had a taste of you.
And as she watched you sleep, so peaceful and so serene, Ellie began to think of any way this would blossom into something more. How would this carry on? She would continue sucking from you until you died one day? She’d come to you like a thief in the knight well after you had a family? Children to look after? Your life moving on while she stayed in an immortal purgatory? One where she continued the cycle of coming to you for a quick bite to eat? Paired with a warm body to lay on top of for the time being?
There was no way it could surpass this. You being her friend, helping her in a way not many could. Ellie knew, that deep down, the life she wanted with you was not one that was easy to come by, something that she wouldn’t dare ask of you. From the moment she saw you, she wanted more. Because that’s what she did, she took, and took, and took until there was nothing left to take, and it was slowly happening with you.
But Ellie loved you too fucking much to take until you were nothing but a shriveled up peace of what you used to be.
So, she took one long last look at you and she left your window. Because that night, she promised herself that she was finished. The life she wanted with you unfortunately wasn’t written in the stars for her, and she knew that from the moment she saw you.
Ellie was letting you go, because she knew it she didn’t.
She’d just end up killing you.
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chrisevansonly · 2 months
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Some Extra Goodies
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charles leclerc x female reader
summary: you are the master at sneaking things into the grocery kart, only this time…someone is watching
warnings: none very fluffy and domestic charles
a/n: thank you all for the cute little ideas i’m gonna work through them, i hope you enjoy these little blurbs!!
Grocery shopping was something you and Charles loved to do together, ever since you moved in together, and even when you both still lived in your respective homes; it was a tradition for you two almost.
Another thing you were good at was sneaking extras into the cart, whether it was your favourite candies or a little package of double chocolate chip cookies, luckily enough for you Charles never seemed to notice.
Until today.
“Chérie, what kind of apples do you want this week?”
You hummed for a second, having just sneakily added a package of cookies to the cart, your eyes then moving up to look at your fiancé who narrowed his stare onto you.
“Oh um let’s just get the honey crisp again! Those were really good last time”
Charles didn’t say anything before grabbing a few apples and placing them into your little fabric fruit bag, the bag you’d started to force him to use to avoid all the plastic use.
“Okay, we just need milk and then we are good to go”
Nodding you hooked your arm through Charles’s and walked towards the dairy section, not before subtly grabbing a pack of gummy bears and trying to hide them under the bushel of banana’s that had just been laid down minutes earlier.
It wasn’t until after you’d gotten the milk and some yogurt that Charles stopped by the cash register, a slight smirk on his face.
“So are we forgetting anything?” he asked softly
“Nope, everything is checked off on the list!”
“Really?”
You raised a brow looking at him and shrugged, showing him the crumpled up grocery list
“Yeah, see I checked it all off…is there something we’re forgetting?”
“Well I just noticed something funny…”
Charles kept his eyes on you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled out the cookies, gummy bears and the little box of truffles you’d slipped into the cart.
“It’s funny because I didn’t see these on the list…”
“What! Oh well how did they get in there! Must have flown off the shelf!”
Charles couldn’t hold his laugh back at your fake shock, it was something he loved about you, how you’d get so animated and pretend as if you didn’t do something: you both knew you most definitely did.
“So I didn’t see you sneakily place these in the cart over our trip here?”
“Charles! I think you’re seeing things, should we go see a doctor?”
Biting back a smile you tried hard not to crack nor laugh, but as Charles pulled you in for a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead, you sighed, finally breaking.
“Alright…you caught me…i just wanted some sweets…”
“Well you didn’t have to sneak them mon amour..”
You shrugged
“It’s more fun that way! Plus you never notice!”
At the look on thé Monégasque’s face your mouth dropped open
“You’ve known?!”
“Every year since we started dating…”
Now it was your time to laugh, all of this time you’d thought he’d never noticed your additions to the weekly groceries, when in reality he’d known everytime for the past 5 years.
“Let’s just say don’t become a spy…you’re not very good at hiding things”
“Hey!”
Pressing one last kiss to your forehead the two of you made your way to the cash to check out and pack all of your things up to go home. Even if you weren’t a good spy, and Charles did know when you snuck extras in, he’d never say anything, in fact he loved that you did it.
Because half the time, he’d want the same sweets as you, he’d just never admit it….not now at least.
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lewdmommie · 10 months
Text
One night stand
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Summary: y/n is forced to do some after hours training with König
🎀Warning🎀: 18+NSFW, Oral sex, raw sex, breeding, rough sex, fluff, slight angst,praise/degradation kink, size kink etc…
ClingyKönigxreader💗
Part 2.
Part 3
Word count: 4.k
“That was good but you’re leaving yourself open.” A gloved hand takes hold of your wrist. He lifts both arms, protecting your face. Your eyes dart up catching a brief moment of eye contact before he quickly looks away. Green. His eyes were green, you hadn’t noticed till now. König was sweet but he made sure to keep his distance from people—the fact that you were this close to him at all was a shock. Sgt. Ghost didn’t take kindly to your recent mistake on the last mission. He doubled your workload and put you on probation, because most of the Barracks were close friends of yours, he assigned you the quietest person on the team. Now you and König spend three hours a day training after hours. While your peers train together, you're mopping floors and cleaning toilets. Ghost doesn’t let you train during work hours in case your colleagues distract you. This was a punishment and he made that clear. “I’m sorry you have to do this with me everyday. This is my punishment, you shouldn’t have to suffer on my behalf.” He shakes his head at your apology.
“I don’t mind…I know how Ghost gets.” He places both hands on your hips, rotating your body. The truth is he really didn’t mind, most days he looked forward to seeing you. “Keep your core strong.” He instructs. His fingers travel up the curves of your body as he repositions you. His large hands warm up your waist as ungodly thoughts intrude your mind. The mask made it impossible for you to read his emotions, any expression came from his eyes (which he often hides). The only change you could see was the way his breath hitched as his finger accidentally grazes your breast. He was always so respectful when touching you, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. Once your body is angled correctly he lets go, taking a few steps back. It almost seemed like he was avoiding the closeness. “Now attack me and defend.” He orders. You lunge forward —jabbing left, right,left,right. He blocks every punch effortlessly, guarding his face. He dodges, dipping low and charging at you. His arms wrap around your thighs hoisting you up. Your fingers interlock beating down on his back, trying to break his iron grip. He stumbles, arms loosening just enough to break free. Your feet hit the ground, König grunts as your fist connects clean with his jaw. “Uhn that one actually hurt…good job.” He waves a hand of surrender while rubbing his cheek through the mask. You run over to help. “Are you alright I’m so sorry-“ his hand shoots out, snatching your arm, spinning you. His solid arm tightens around your neck trapping you in a chokehold. His breathing is shallow, body tensing as your ass presses against him. You reach up and caress his forearm. He hadn’t realized just how small you were compared to him till now, his body engulfed the entirety of your frame. He notes how perfectly you fit in his arms and how easy it’d be to break you. Your head rests just below his pecs, the smell of your hair product wafts up his mask, he inhales the sweet scent. His bicep flexes, tightening his grip, your eyes flutter and a quiet moan falls from your lips. You loved that light headed airy feeling of being choked.
“N-never let your guard down.” He let’s go, gently pushing you away, putting a giant gap between the two of you. “Even if you think someone is done, be prepared to attack…” he trails off getting distracted by how sexy you look after an intense workout. How fast your breathing is, how your hair is messy with sweat, how your lips part as you catch your breath. He wanted to be the one to work you out.
“Oh whatever you cheated .” You laugh squatting down as you catch your breath. König crouches, grabbing his flask from the ground. His large, veiny hands twist the top off in one swipe. Unconsciously, he lifts the bottom of his mask to drink, showing you a glimpse of the lower half of his face. His jaw tenses, a trickle of water spills down his chin as he swallows. His adams apple bobs with each gulp. You gawk at the scene in front of you, thinking it has to be a daydream.
“Water?” He holds the flask to you.
“S-sure.” You ease to a sitting position on your knees reaching for the bottle. You stare at the rim that just grazed his lips. Does this count as an indirect kiss? You think. He watches you place your lips in the exact spot he’d drank from, flushed with excitement. He wonders if your lips were as soft as he imagined they’d be. How they’d feel melding with his…how they’d feel wrapped around his dick. He doesn’t dwell on it too long, knowing that would never happen and that you didn’t see him that way.
“Have you eaten?” He asks, looking at you with big green eyes.
“Sergeant told the cafeteria to only feed me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, so I haven’t eaten anything of value.” Your stomach grumbles on que.
“You must have really gotten on his bad side huh?” He offers you a hand,helping you to your feet.
“Unfortunately.” You dust off your pants and begin collecting your belongings.
“Since we wrapped up a bit early, how about I take you somewhere you can get real food.” He offers, packing his duffle bag.
“You know how tight ghost keeps the kitchen locked up…” you say with an annoyed tone.
“Who said anything about the kitchen?” His voice sounds mischievous.
“You don’t mean-?” You shake your head, stuffing your hat and jacket in the bag.
“Come on, he’ll never know I’ve worked with him long enough to know his blind spots.” He tilts his head expressively.
“Fine but if we get caught, you ordered me to go.” You hike your bag onto your shoulder, walking past him. He smiles behind you.
~
“Puedo pedir dos margaritas?(may I have two margaritas) Sí…un bistec nacho y un burrito de pollo(one steak nacho and one chicken burrito)Eso es todo, gracias(that's all thank you).” He says expertly, the waiter nods thanking you before going to pin the order up.
“Wow I’ve been deployed here longer than you and my Spanish is still choppy.” You toy with some lime slices on the table to keep yourself busy. König watches you closely, an amused look in his eye.
“I can speak a few languages but I’m not good at them all.” He looks you up and down, the lights from the club area illuminates your skin. Your hair is pulled in a now messy bun. Cute strands stick out from your training session. He is especially drawn to your lips, the way you lick and nibble your bottom lip when you’re nervous. His eyes dart away when you feel his gaze lingering and look up.
“What other languages do you speak?” You stare out into the dance floor, watching the locals swing and jump to the music. They looked carefree and happy, it’d been so long since you’ve felt good or even had a good time. Ghost saw a lot of potential in you so he stayed on your ass 24/7. Tough love is what he liked to call it.
“German is my first language.” He reveals.
“German? That’s so cool , say something in German.” He chuckles at your excitement.
“Ich möchte dich über diesen Tisch beugen und dich dazu bringen, mich ganz zu nehmen (I want to bend you over this table and make you take all of me)” he leans forward, green eyes boring into you as he says this,making sure you can hear him over the music. You had no idea what he just said but it made your thighs clench under the table.
“W-what does that mean?”
“I’ll tell you one day.” He shrugs. You toss a lime, it smacks his vest with a small thud.
“I thought friends don’t keep things from eachother.” You tease. The server brings out two large glasses with salted rims, there was no way you could finish this entire thing. He places the margaritas on either side of the table along with straws. König tears open his straw taking a long pull from his drink.
“Whoa it’s strong.” The fruity syrup barely covered the 3 shots of liquor . You indulge, sucking a mouth full of the frozen drink. It tastes strongly of strawberry slushie and tequila, the salted rim balances all the flavors with a sour finish. The alcohol must have been hitting him pretty fast because all he could imagine is him being that straw. How good the inside of your mouth must taste and feel.
“You’re right…I see why everyone is having such a good time.” You joke, taking another sip. A hearty laugh rumbles in his chest, he loved the way you always spoke your mind. It’s one of the qualities that always got you in trouble with ghost. Nothing made him laugh more than watching you stress ghost out with your witty personality.
“I guess we’d better join the party.” He raises his glass for a toast before chugging half.
The server brings out hot plates of food, everything looked and smelled amazing. Your stomach growls at the sight of real food, the liquor (coupled with only eating sandwiches for a week) takes effect making you absolutely demolish your burrito. König shyly slips a few chips under his mask, he never ate around people since it usually required the mask to come off.
“This is soooo good.” You say having another bite.
“I love this place. I come here often.” He slides in another chip.
“I thought we weren’t allowed to leave base unauthorized or maybe that’s just me.” Ghost had a tendency of giving you extra rules for your troublesome rap sheet.
“We aren’t but if you don’t get caught, did it ever happen?” He laughs, taking the final sip of his drink.
“And they call me the troublemaker.” You say glancing at the dance floor again.
“Do you want to?” He asks.
“Want to what? Dance?…no I don’t uh I don’t dance.” You dismiss quickly.
“ I’ve seen you knock grown men out y/n, dancing can’t be much harder than that.”
“You know you’re much more social than usual.” You observe.
“Only when I’m with you.” He grabs your hand leading you to the crowd.
The music thumps with bass, shaking the ground beneath your feet. A sexy song plays through the huge speakers near the DJ station. People couple up, swaying their bodies to the beat. König slips an arm around your lower back pulling you close. You struggle to find the tempo, moving left to right awkwardly. He takes your hand, spinning you around. His eyes trace the line of your body before pulling you back into his chest. You giggle at how ridiculous you look compared to his smooth rhythm. Your foot slams down on his toe as you try to find the beat “I’m so sorry! I’m so bad at this maybe I should sit-“
“Let’s try this instead.” His knee forces your legs apart, giving him control of your movements. The feeling of his thigh pressed firmly against your heat makes your head spin.
“Follow my lead.” He commands.
His waist sways back and fourth, rocking your bodies in unison. You copy his actions, grinding your hips together, the grip on your waist tightens. The fabric of your pants rub creating friction between your legs, his cock reacts to the closeness, beating as if it was dancing along with them. finding the rhythm, your body starts to move on its own.
“Scheisse (Shit)” he groans as you turn around and twirl your ass on him. His head falls back as you start to swirl your hips down and back up slowly. His big hand slides over your stomach holding you as close as possible, his rock hard member strains through his thick camo pants. Your eyes close as you grind into him, his finger grazes the exposed skin peeking from under your shirt. He trails that same finger up your torso, between your breast and up your neck. His hand rests at the base of your throat keeping hold of you as your bodies whirl around the dance floor. He spins you back around to face him, for once he demands eye contact and you’re the one shying away. You stare at the floor, giant hands cup your face pulling you to meet his feverish gaze.
“Don’t look away from me.” König’s voice sounds different, More rugged. His shoulders hunch as he leans down to your height as he speaks. “Bitte komm mit mir nach Hause” he whispers in your ear.
“What’s that?”
“Please come home with me.” He breathes.
~
“How the hell did you convince Ghost to let you room by yourself ?” You ask, stepping past the threshold.
“ My social skills and big personality helped with that.” He jokes sarcastically. König wasn’t required to room with anyone thanks to his close connection to the sergeant, leaving the two of you completely alone in his quarters.
“Well I guess if you don’t talk much there isn’t much you could say to get in trouble.” You ponder.
“Yeah you should try it.” He chuckles at your shocked expression.
“Try what exactly?” You ask appalled , holding your chest dramatically.
“Not talking. That mouth of yours is dangerous.”
“Give me one example where I said something worth getting punished for.” Your arms cross.
“If I recall correctly you said and I quote ‘why would I listen to a dude named Simon?’ ” he says in a high pitch voice mimicking yours.
“First of all he wasn’t supposed to hear that, wrong place at the wrong time on his part and secondly Simon is a funny name, the jokes practically write themselves.” He pauses for a second before doubling over with laughter.
His keys clatter on the kitchen counter as he wipes his tears of laughter away. You set your bags near the couch and sway on your heels nervously, unsure whether to sit or stand. Strong hands settle on your shoulders working away the tension you’ve been holding for god knows how long. Your head rolls back into his touch, he kneads your muscles like dough relieving any and all stress. “That feels so good, König.” You groan, closing your eyes.
“Come with me.” He grasps your hand leading you down a hall , stopping at a closed door. He twists the knob revealing a very plain bedroom, a queen sized bed with black sheets, a desk, and stacks of paperwork are all that decorate the space. There are two extra doors, one leading to the closet and the other to the bathroom. You laugh at his clumsiness. He’s clearly tipsy as he staggers to the door.
He slips his gloves off and opens the cabinet below the sink, rummaging around and pulling things out onto the bathroom floor. Finally, he emerges with a pink topped bottle. “Baby oil” the label reads.
“Strip.” He says, unbuckling his bulletproof vest and laying it on the desk chair.
“S-strip?”
“Yes, so I can massage you. That is what you want isn’t it?” He removes his thick camouflage jacket revealing the snug black material of his undershirt.
His muscles bulge veiny and tight, stretching the fabric. It was true, you did want his hands all over you. Ever since you two started training together, you found yourself fantasizing about being split by that monster of a man. Your hands fumble with the buckle of your pants as you kick your boots off. He advances, towering a wapping 6'6”. You shift with anticipation, looking up at him with gleaming eyes. The tips of his fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, swiping it over your head. Your scrunchie is taken along with it, freeing your hair (for my fellow natural haired girlies let’s just say you have braids or a wig). If you’d known you’d be stripping for someone tonight, you would have picked sexier underwear. He’s silent as he takes in how perfect you look in your plain gray and white bra/pantie combo.
“Lay on the bed.” He instructs unscrewing the baby oil top.
You listen, climbing up into the comfy cotton sheets, using your arms as pillows. He’s flustered at how obedient you are, since that wasn’t a side of you he’d seen before. The military couldn’t break you…but he would. He stands at the side of the bed admiring every dip and curve of your figure. Flipping the bottle upside down, Slick cool oil slides down your back. His thumbs rub circles along your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. His long fingers slip under your bra strap, he huffs in frustration.
“In the way-“ he unclasps it skillfully. Your face is burning with embarrassment, there was no way you were laying in Königs bed half naked. A shiver runs down your leg as he slides down the elastic waist of your panties. He begins working and kneading your lower back, squeezing the plush skin of your ass. The crotch of your panties were soaked, leaving a huge wet spot on the gray fabric. He inhales, your arousal was palatable, his dick pulsates at the scent of your glistening womanhood. Your panties glide down over your ankles as he slides them off, tossing them into the corner.
“Flip over.” He grunts, tossing you around.
Your breast fall from the unclamped bra, hard nipples on full display. König doesn’t hesitate yanking and pulling you to the edge of the bed.
“On your knees.” His voice is breathy and low.
your eyes stay on him as you shift onto your knees, hands holding your chest shyly. Gently he pulls them away, slipping the straps down and off your arms. Because of his height, you’re at perfect eye level with his throbbing erection. His breath hitches as your elegant fingers undo the zipper of his pants, his earthy green eyes flutter. His big hand cradles your cheek as he watches you work to release him from the shackles of those annoying pants. His cock burst free, slapping his lower stomach. Although you couldn’t see his face, the state of his arousal was evident. Veins root from base to tip, beating rhythmically along the upward curve of his sex. His tip is blushed and oozing with pre-cum, his breathing accelerates with need. You run your tongue up the length of his rock hard shaft, he grunts head lolling back. Your lips wrap around the tip, tongue swirling and teasing him before opening nice and wide.
“Scheiße (Fuck)” he pants, caressing your cheek pulling your warm wet mouth down on his cock. It was even better than he’s imagined, his hand sets the pace rocking your head back and forth. Tears prick your eyes as he begins moving faster, fucking your throat. Each thrust deeper than the last, his hand moves to the base of your neck feeling how deep you can swallow him.
“You look so fucking pretty sucking my cock.” He wipes a stray tear with his thumb.
You gag as he pushes further, your throat muscles contract around him before he pulls back.
“Oh naughty naughty girl. You almost made me cum.” He teases, lightly pushing you back onto the bed. The mattress creaks from his massive size as he climbs between your legs, peering down at you. Your hand reaches under the mask, he firmly grips your wrist forcing it to the bed.
“Ask nicely.” He orders.
“Can I touch you…please.” You beg.
He releases your hand, it finds the bottom of the mask, sliding underneath to find the stubble of a 5 o'clock shadow and soft lips. Your finger strokes his lower lip, it is plump and warm.suddenly, his mouth opens nipping and sucking the skin of your curious finger. “Ah what are you-“ you moan arching your back. Pushing your hand away once more, he leans down, capturing your parted lips. Your lips dance in perfect harmony, melting into one another. He moans into your mouth, his jaw tenses as your tongue pushes through savoring the flavor that is König. The head of his dick pokes at your slippery slit begging for entry, you can feel how hot he is all over causing your temperature to rise.
“Open up for me, I’m gonna give you everything I have.” He groans, plunging inside with a flick of his hips. Your hands claw at the smooth skin of his back as you stretch around him, his girth almost too much to handle. You cry out as he thrust deeper “Just alittle more baby, you’re taking me so well…s’good s’fucking good.” He pants filling you to the brim. He stays still for a moment letting you adjust to his large size, the pressure in your pussy nearly makes you cum right then and there.
“I feel you twitching around me princess, you can’t cum yet, I’m not done breaking you.” He pulls back before slamming back in, hitting the back of your cervix with each thrust. There is a delicious ache in your belly as he impales you, the curve of his dick reaches places you didn’t even know existed.
“Ah ah s’to big I-I can’t I can’t.” You cry biting the skin of his chest to hold back your screams.
“You’re gonna take what…I…give…you.” He pounds with each word. He sits up pushing your knees to your chest forcing even deeper inside your velvety walls. This position gives him access to your stiff wet bud. With two fingers he spreads your creamy folds watching his dick pump in and out of you. Every thrust his cock emerges more coated than the last.
“Your pussy is so fucking gorgeous , look at that needy little clit.” He flicks your bud, rutting into you with all his strength. His long fingers grab your throat, your tongue lols out as he chokes you. He alternates the pressure taking you up and gently bringing you back down. “That pretty mouth isn’t so dangerous now.” Your quivering walls clench around him threatening to overflow.
“P-please I’m gonna…ah!” He pulls out, gripping your waist as he throws you around, roughly raising your ass to him. Before you can register the change he splits you apart once again, slapping your plush ass, leaving hot hand prints on your skin. Those giant hands push and pull you back on his cock, using your pussy to make himself cum.
“You have such a cute tummy.” He reaches around pressing on your lower belly feeling how full it is with his cock.
“You would make such a pretty mommy.” He praises fucking you faster and harder. That throws you over the edge, your body convulses and clamps down icing his dick with your sweetness.
His teeth clench with an inhuman growl as his rod twitches and throbs before shooting your insides with his hot seed.
~
“Late again huh, rookie? That’s an extra week.” You jump, turning around. Ghost stands over you. It was true last night’s events made it impossible to wake up at 5 am with the other soldiers. You ended up sneaking out of Königs bed in the middle of the night, hoping you could sneak back into your barracks undetected. The mission was success. You slipped into your bed at 2 a.m before anyone could realize you were gone. Unfortunately, that means you overslept, waking up three hours late.
“I was…sick.” You lie scrubbing the bathroom tiles diligently.
“Sick? You were fine yesterday.” He says with a flat tone.
“Must have eaten something bad, all those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches must have taken a toll.” You grunt, rubbing your stomach.
“Next time you’re sick. You report it to me in advance.” He orders.
“How can I predict when I’m gonna be sick?-“
“Don’t question me.” He spins on his heels walking out the bathroom.
“Okay Simon.” You mock.
“What was that rookie?” He calls back.
“Nothing Sargeant!” You exclaim.
He walks away finally, leaving you with the smell of bleach and toilet water. Your arms ache from scrubbing. throwing the sponge in the bucket of cleaning solution, you sit back against the wall thinking about last night. All morning you avoided seeing König, ducking and dodging him in the halls. Every time you thought of him, your face burned with embarrassment, there is no way you could look him in the eye after that. For now your plan is to just lay low in hopes he was too drunk to remember anything. It was nothing. Just a drunken one night stand.
“There you are.” He charges forward looking down at you.
“H-here I am whats up König…do you need a copy of that report-“
“Why did you sneak out last night.” He interrupts.
“Psh me? Sneak out I didn’t sneak out. I just went for a walk…and ended up in my bed.” You reach into the bucket with gloved hands wringing the sponge out.
“Why couldn’t we sleep together?” He asks.
You fly to your feet in a panic “Shhh! What if someone hears you?”
“So what?” He tilts his head in confusion.
“Superior and subordinate relationships are strictly prohibited!” You whisper/yell.
“Right…hm, okay in here then.” He takes your hand leading you into the stall furthest from the door, The lock clicks behind you.
“Can’t this wait till after hours.” You say with an annoyed tone.
“I want an explanation.” His arm rests on the wall above your head.
“This. This is why I snuck off, to avoid whatever this is. Now I’m stuck in a bathroom stall talking about…feelings.” You hold your stomach making a pained face.
“This isn’t funny.” His voice is low.
“You’re right it isn’t but it is complicated .”
“Y/n? You in here?” A voice calls.
You mouth shit, covering what you assumed was his mouth through the mask.
“Yeah! I was just cleaning!” You call back.
“Who were you talking too?” She asks her foot steps advancing.
“No one! Here I come!” You let him go squinting your eyes.
“This isn’t over.” He whispers sharply, moving to the side.
“I can see that.” You grumble walking out the stall to greet your friend.
…to be continued?
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kimstills · 1 month
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i can see you
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pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader
summary: "here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”
content warnings: jealous!hotch, reader is a panther (aren't we all), bathroom sex, mirror sex, p in v, sexual tension, unprotected sex (r mentions being on birth control but wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink if u squint, spanking, hair pulling, choking, dom!hotch, sub!reader.
word count: 3.9k (y’all this was not supposed to be this long lmao)
notes: day 18 of @hotchfiles marchhotchness 'self-image' but also HEAVILY inspired by this post from @softhairedhotch because it made me go FERAL and i love jealous hotch (but pls lmk if taking inspo was okay!!) this is also my first hotch fic ever so pls lmk ur thoughts or any other feedback <333
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aaron hotchner was not a jealous man.
he had no right to be jealous over something that technically did not exist or someone that technically was not his.
and although he only had himself to blame for that, he really did wish that you were his. and as much as he was telling himself not to be, he was jealous.
but it wasn’t the typical jealous where he watched you be approached by someone much younger than him—someone your own age instead of his—and by someone who already had him beat in reciprocating that flirtatious energy you often used on aaron himself.
no, this type of jealousy was one that was boosting his ego and making him feel lightweight, albeit the fact that it still made him see red.
it was a typical night out with the rest of the team, all of you having agreed that the eight of you were in need of a couple of drinks after some long weeks of paperwork and back and forth cases.
you were all engrossed in the conversation, but you had left the table to get yourself another refill on your drink and had taken far too long than it normally would have, the rest of the younger members—all besides reid—having decided on hitting up the dance floor throughout the time you hadn’t returned to your seat.
it was practically natural for aaron to look for you in a crowd, but what he hadn’t expected to find was you, sitting in a bar stool on the right side of the bar, being hit up by a man who had to have been a couple of years older than aaron himself.
the front hairs of the man’s head were peeking of several grey hairs, paired with a matching grey beard and an overall radiance that screamed of that older man type that you were apparently into.
the sudden revelation made aaron feel dizzy, the confirmation of your attraction towards older men making his pants tighten as he watched the way you stared up at the man with that sultry look of yours—the one where you were somehow able to perfectly mix mischief and innocence seamlessly together.
while you had used that look on aaron countless times before, times where it had been only you and him alone in his office, way past working hours, he had never done anything about it. but, god, as he watched you do it to someone else, out on the open, there was nothing he was currently regretting more.
aaron’s train of thought was interrupted as he felt someone kick him from underneath the table he sat at, whipping his head to the person in front of him only to find rossi staring at him with a smug look on his face.
he cleared his throat, “what?”
aaron mentally cringed at the way his voice wavered.
“you gonna be done being jealous anytime soon and make a move or are you just gonna sit there throwing daggers at the guy?” dave asked, brows raised.
he took a long sip from his drink, trying to avoid the question for as long as he could as he tried to compose himself, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,”
rossi rolled his eyes, “oh, please, aaron. you don’t have to be a profiler to notice the way you can cut the tension that’s between the both of you with a butter knife,”
aaron’s brows furrowed.
“you have all the confirmation you need right there,” dave pointed his thumb behind him, signaling at you and the man, “if that’s not enough for you, then i’m declaring you helpless at this point,” he let out a sigh, standing from his seat, “i’m going to get another drink and if i find you still sitting here, wallowing in your thoughts after getting my refill, i’ll go up to them and encourage her to go home with the man.”
aaron’s fists clenched at the thought. at the thought of you sprawled on the bed of another man, wearing that same look you had on just now and staring up at him as you—
his body acted faster than his brain did, and before he even had the chance to process what he was doing, he stood from his own stool, not allowing for another moment to pass by as he stormed over to where you and the man were sitting.
from your side of the room, you can see aaron make his way over to you through the peripheral of your vision, the excitement of finally getting a reaction out of him making your heart skip and your thighs press together as you took into count the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.
the pressure you put on your thighs didn’t do anything to relieve the ache you felt in your core as he reached where you sat, coming to stand behind—was his name michael? although the stranger you had began talking to was definitely older than him, aaron was a good several inches taller, towering over the both of you.
he cleared his throat, cutting michael off from whatever he had been talking to you about as he turned around with a raised brow. aaron’s expression didn’t falter, not sparing a single glance at the man as his eyes landed on you, “y/n, can i speak to you for a moment?”
you mentally rolled your eyes. ever the formal one.
michael scoffed from in front of him, angling his body so that he was able to properly glare daggers at your boss, “we were in the middle of a conversation here, if you don’t mind?”
although your attraction for aaron skyrocketed in comparison to the man you had just met, you were thriving off of the jealousy radiating off of the one you wanted the most, the ache in your stomach only growing.
before aaron had the chance to shoot out a reply, you set your hand on michael’s forearm, giving him a small, but sad smile, “i’m sorry, michael,” you butted in, jumping off of the bar stool, “i’ll be right back, okay?”
another scoff comes from michael’s direction, “whatever,” he grabs his drink and rolls his eyes, “don’t even bother coming back,”
ew.
this time you actually rolled your eyes, grabbing at your drink and drowning the rest of it. you shrug, “older men are always a hit or miss,” you mumble, setting the glass down.
aaron’s hand comes to wrap around your wrist, a firm but gentle grip on it as he pulls you close to him, “let’s go,” he seethes in your ear.
you hide a smirk as you follow behind him, letting your body practically flail as you struggle to keep up with him. when he notices your staggered pace, he matches his footsteps with yours, moving his hand from your wrist to your waist as he guides you through the crowd and towards the hallway that lead towards the bar’s restrooms.
the both of you gave a silent thanks at the fact that there was no line, the hallway scarce and dimly lit with the exception of a few people standing together against the walls, either flirting or talking.
“what are you doing?” you ask, standing behind him as he knocks on one of the doors, his grip on your waist still very much present.
“you’ll see,” he mumbles, yanking the door open by the knob after no one replies and pulling the both of you inside before slamming the door shut behind him.
you try to take a good look at the interior of the bathroom, trying to guess if it was a good enough place to do whatever the two of you were about to do.
a faint gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard press into your ass, immediately melting as one of aaron’s big hands comes to rub at the side of your leg, right below your hip. his whole body comes up behind yours, his other free hand coming to your stomach to press you into him.
“aaron—” you try to speak but get cut off as you let out another gasp, one almost like a sigh, as the hand that was rubbing at your leg sneaks further up and wraps itself around your hip, aaron’s thick fingers digging into your skin despite the material of your shorts that blocked his hand.
aaron dips his head so that his mouth is right next to your ear, his breath and the faint touch of his lips against the lower part of your jawline sending shivers down your spine.
“is this okay?” he asks softly, a total contrast from the vice grip he had on both your front and hip.
you nod quickly, your hand coming up to your right where he held your hip to wrap around his own.
“use your words, honey,”
the pet name makes you whimper and your thighs clench in spite of the fact that you were standing up. you let out a ragged breath as he awaits for your answer, the hand that was pressed to your stomach furthering down until it was right above your pelvis but below your tummy, pushing you further back until you could feel how hard he actually was.
you whine, your other hand coming to wrap around that one, too, “yes,” you sigh, “it’s okay,”
aaron presses his lips into that same spot below your jaw, gently and lovingly before whipping you around so that you were facing him and pushing you up against the counter.
not even giving you a chance to process what he had just done, his lips crash onto yours roughly, making you moan directly into his mouth. your bring your arms up around his neck, running your fingers through his hair and tugging.
aaron hisses, slapping at your thigh in a firm way that had you let out another moan.
“aaron,” you whine, pushing up into his chest out of desperation.
he hums, “do you want my attention now?” he asks through the kiss, “don’t wanna go back and talk to that guy you were all over just a couple of minutes ago?”
“no,” you mumble, huffing as he breaks away from you to wrap his fingers around your chin.
he chuckles as your lips form into a puffy pout, “here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”
“no!” you whine again, your arms dropping from around his neck to wrap around his bicep, squeezing at the muscle to try and pull him closer to you, “just you!”
his confidence was beyond what it normally was, feeling you squirm from against him yet still wanting his touch, “really? so you weren’t planning on going home with that man? all those times you touched his shoulder or the times he would touch your thigh meant nothing?”
“yes, they didn’t mean anything!” you huff, “you’re the one i want to go home with all the time!”
aaron’s heart clenched at your confession, knowing that deep down you really did mean all the time. he had just never been sure if you truly were interested in living a joint life with him. up until now, that is.
he brings his hands to your back, right by your shoulder blades as he connects your lips once more. your shoulders relax and you lean into him with earnest, squeezing at the muscle from his bicep.
you hum, satisfied as he begins to run his hands up and down, resulting in the fabric of your shirt lifting with every time he went up, eventually ending up in nothing but rolled up fabric under his palm. he breaks the kiss once more to toss your shirt over your head and near the sink’s counter, leaving you in only your shorts.
aaron stared at your bare breasts, not expecting you to have not been wearing a bra despite the tight shirt you just had on.
you shiver under his gaze, opening your mouth to say something before he lowered himself and quickly attached a mouth to one of your breasts, the other one coming up to grab and squeeze at it. you moan, gripping onto the marble counter for support as he presses sloppy and wet kisses to each breast.
his fingers come to undo the button of your shorts, hooking them inside your panties before shoving both articles of clothing down your legs, signaling you to kick them off of you. you toed your shoes off as well, leaving you completely naked and bare for him while he remained fully clothed.
he turns you around gently, bringing you face to face with the sight of you completely stripped in the mirror, the image making you clench your thighs together once more as you stabilized yourself on the sink.
aaron’s hands soothed all around your body, a whimper leaving you at the feeling of his calloused hands groping at your breasts before moving down to your soaking pussy.
as if on instinct, you spread your legs open for him, practically inviting him to dip his fingers into your folds and inside your entrance. the thickness of both his index and middle fingers stretching you out. you knew you had always loved his hands for a reason.
a moan bounced off the walls as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, moving torturously slow before he began to pick up the pace. you could feel your slick drip onto the floor and probably onto the rest of his hand, but all you could focus on was shamelessly bucking your hips into your hand and spreading your legs for even more access.
“you’re soaking, honey,” aaron says, hand coming back around to squeeze at your breast again, leaving you gasping as he pinched your nipples.
you whimpered, “just for you,”
“‘just for me?’” he repeats, “not for anyone else, right?”
you shake your head no, pussy clenching around his fingers, “j-just for you, aaron,”
his hand left your breast to smack at your ass, making you jump, “good girl,”
with that, he takes his fingers out of you, a throaty whine leaving your lips at the empty feeling. you arched your back into him, but immediately stilled at the sound of him removing his belt filled the room. you watched from the mirror in front of you as he undid his pants button, reaching past his boxers to pull out his cock.
oh shit.
your mouth dropped at the sight of his dick spring out from where it had been confined, your slick hole clenching at nothing at how big he was. you knew that aaron hotchner was definition of big dick energy, always wondered what he was secretly packing, but now you wondered if you were going to be able to take it all.
he was thick, veiny all around with girth too thick that it hurt just looking at him. as much as you could tell you wouldn’t be able to walk after this, it excited you far too much.
you gulped, meeting his eyes in the mirror, landing on his hungry gaze, “is it going to fit?” you ask quietly, trying to bring your legs back together.
“we’ll make it fit,” he says, sounding confident of himself, a hand coming to stop you from closing your legs, “will you let me know if it’s too much?”
you take another look at his cock before giving him a determined look, “i will,” you nod.
he nods back, angling your head with his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth.
you give into him easily, arching into him until you feel the tip of his cock slip through your wet folds and line up with your entrance. you had taken dick before, but never this big, so as he gave you one last look, you took a deep breath before feeling him sink into you.
you gasp, already feeling full by just the tip, though the slickness of your pussy helping you in adjust.
“still good, honey?”
you nod again, too busy focusing on how his length was stretching you out further than his fingers had.
smack!
aaron’s hand landed another spank on your ass, making you snap your heads toward him with a confused, dumbfounded expression. he glared, “use your words.”
you huffed, doing your best to not roll your eyes, “still good,” you replied, going back to focusing on how full your pussy already felt, “is it in yet?”
“almost, baby,” you whined again, pushing your ass back onto him and earning yourself another inch inside.
humming in delight, you felt aaron begin to move, setting a slow pace as he inched himself in and out to get you used to the length that was already inside you.
“aaron,” you sighed, “give it all to me,” you pleaded at him through the mirror, “i can take it,”
he studied your expression, all needy and flushed as you tried to buck your hips further back to fill yourself up more, “let me know if it’s too much,” he warned.
you nodded eagerly but didn’t get a chance to reply as he shoved the rest of his length inside, the tip immediately hitting that one spot. you gasped loudly, the feeling of his whole cock inside you awakening a hunger inside of you, “fuck,” you moaned, dropping your hands so that you were resting with your elbows on the counter, “please, aaron. move,”
he hesitated for another moment, and just as you were about to look behind you, you felt him begin to move, pistoling his hips into your ass roughly.
you let out a shriek, your hands grabbing at anything you could reach in order to stabilize yourself as he began to mercilessly pound into you from behind. he slipped his dick in and out of you each time, your pussy hugging the veiny length each time he did.
the sounds your juices made due to you being soaked vibrated against the room each time his hips hit your ass roughly, and it only edged you on further.
“a-aaron,” you moan, breasts jiggling against the cold sink as the girth of his cock stretched you out, “aaron! oh, fuck!”
you thought you had felt good getting his attention when you were back flirting with the guy, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his dick slamming into you.
from above, aaron grunted and groaned, fingers and nails digging into your hips harshly as he pounded into your perfect pussy. he loved the way you clenched around him, taking it back perfectly each time he slipped back in.
his hand reached for your hair, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back until you were flush against him with your back still perfectly arched. he dropped his hand from your head to wrap around your neck, fingers digging into the sides.
you gasped, not having a choice as you looked at him through the now foggy mirror, the image of your body rocking with every smack against your body only adding onto the sensation.
“such a perfect pussy,” aaron grumbled into your ear, “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it sweetheart?”
you did your best to nod regardless of how weak your body felt, of the way you could feel your slick drip down to your thighs or the way you were drooling from your open mouth, “belongs to you, aaron,” you mumble, surprisingly coherently despite the way he was choking you.
“yeah, it does,” he grunts, free hand coming to grab at your stomach again before pushing against the spot where his cock was evidently sliding in and out of you, making you squirm, “this greedy pussy belongs to me. not to that bastard you were flirting with, right, honey?”
you nod again, eyes stuck on the tummy bulge you currently displayed, your hole clenching at aaron’s cock even tighter at the way the indent disappeared when he slipped out versus when it reappeared when slipping back in.
“feels so good, aaron,” you mumble, saliva dropping from your lips and onto your pointy, practically rock hard nipples that jiggled with each thrust.
“yeah?” he asks, breath hot against your ear, “taking it so well for me, such a good girl,” he praises, hand leaving from your stomach to slither down to where your bodies connected.
you let out a squeal as his middle finger slipped through your finger and his index began to rub furiously at your swollen clit, the feeling making the knot in your stomach tighten and tighten.
you babbled aaron’s name like a loose mantra, bodies rocking together as he quickened his pace after realizing that you were close to orgasming, hand tightening around your neck and finger rubbing even faster than before.
“c’mon, honey, come for me,” he encouraged, “come all over my cock, pretty girl,”
it was all the confirmation you need to let yourself go, body shaking and aaron’s name being repeated as you chased the high, glad that he was holding you up with his hands as your whole body stuttered.
the feeling of your pussy clenching and unclenching around him violently made aaron groan, sweat dripping down his body as he began to reach his own high just from the way your body reacted to orgasming from his dick. from the way he was fucking you and from the way he was naming you as his own.
you could feel his pace falter from behind you, lazily meeting his pace as you tried to encourage him to finish, “come in me, aaron, please,” you whined, needing to feel him fill you up to the point where his come would leak out of you, “fill up my pussy, aaron,”
he gave you a look of unsureness through the mirror before you nodded at him, “i’m on the pill. it’s okay. please,”
that had been all the confirmation he need for him to finish inside you, his cock twitching inside you as his seed filled you up, making you moan as you rode out your own orgasm, still clenching tightly around him.
you giggled at the way his body practically toppled onto yours as he tried to catch himself, bodies pressed together as he held onto the counter with his dick still inside you.
he snaked his hand around the side of your face as his breath evened, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and shutting up your whines as he pulled out from inside you with a kiss to your mouth.
“jack’s at a sleepover today,” he says after a few moments of silence.
you inch an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned over to grab some toilet paper, snatching some off the holder before wiping himself clean of you and wincing at the sensitivity as he wiped gently at your own folds and thighs, “is he now?”
he hums, tucking himself back into his boxers and quickly buttoning his pants to help you put your own clothes on, “he is,” he grabbed your discarded shorts and parties from the floor and signaled you to lift your legs, “we can go home and i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and ask you to be go on an official date with me in the morning,”
your heart pulls as he buttons up your shorts for you, reaching for your shirt, too, “i’ll only say yes if we keep going when we get home,” you admit, making him freeze in his movements.
he pinched your nipple.
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voyaging-too · 2 months
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Tips for Spotting Bad & Bullshit History
There's no way to make sure you never fall for historical misinformation, and I'm not expecting anyone to fact-check every detail of everything they read unless they're getting paid for it. But you can make an effort to avoid the Worst Takes.
Ask yourself – if I wanted to verify this, where would I start? If you look at a statement and can’t actually find any facts to check, then you already know it’s bullshit.
Read the Wikipedia article on weasel words. Some experts say it’s very helpful!
Look for specifics: a who, a what, a where, a when. If one of those is missing or very broad, that’s a red flag. Statements need to be rooted in a time and a place. “People in the past have always…” Nope.
Vague is bad. Unless you’re looking at a deliberate large-scale overview that’s being broad and generalizing on purpose, you want names and dates and places and primary sources, pictures and quotes and examples.
But an example is not a trend. There’s a difference between what’s possible and what’s common, and history is full of exceptions and outliers. Extremely unusual people and events are overrepresented in the historical record (because nobody writes down what’s normal,) and they can tell us a lot about history, but they’re not directly representative of their place or time. Imagine a historian trying to reconstruct the 21st century based solely on Kiwifarm.
If a historian is competent or even just trying, you won’t have to go digging for sources, they will be shoved right into your face. Not out of mere academic rigor, but because a person who found them, either first- or second hand, is proud to have found them. People who have proof want to show you the proof, people who figured something out will want to show you their work, walk you through it. If they don’t, ask yourself – how do you know this? And - why won’t you tell me how you know this?
Someone might have a legit historical source, and then try to stretch it to cover times and places where it no longer applies. What’s true of 12th century England may not be true of 14th century Venice, even though both are “Medieval Europe,” so watch for those stretches.
Anecdotes are fine, they reveal a lot about people’s values and perceptions, pro historians often use them for context, but what anecdotes are not is factual truth. Notice when someone is feeding you cute anecdotes.
If someone attributes a large-scale social or cultural transformation to a single person or event, yeah that’s usually bullshit. Chances are, that person was part of a larger trend, a small link in a long chain. You can still appreciate their contribution, just put it in context!
Second-guess anyone who acts like they possess secret knowledge that the Media or Academia (or somebody) is hiding, they’re usually bullshit. Remember, if something has a Wikipedia article, it’s not actually a dark secret.
Remember that if it happened in the past sixty years, tons of people will still remember it, and you can literally just go and ask them.
Learn to recognise a smear tactic. Did this person really fuck dogs, or was their posthumous biography written by their worst enemy? Should we take it at face value? Also learn to recognise overt propaganda in the opposite direction: is the king that great or does he have a court historian on retainer? Remember that people sometimes *lie* in their autobiographies.
It’s fine to speculate about what “could” or “might” have happened, professional historians also fill the gaps in the sources with the occasional educated guess. But failing to differentiate clearly between fact and speculation is a huge mistake.
Do not seek validation in history. It's not there. I’m not saying you should approach history in an impersonal, apolitical way, of course not. Our present situation influences our interpretation of history, and it should. What I’m saying is, try not to hang too much of your individual or group identity on a historical narrative. Especially if it’s bullshit. You’re worthy and human because you’re worthy and human today, not because of the deeds and misdeeds of people in the past.
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