#been staring at this for too long and now i can’t tell if it looks like her

[n0tamused]

hi.iii.... Booth,ill request!?!?

Boothill gets a component jammed, and in this particular fix-up with his mechanic, he's twice as curious and won't stop nabbing things (Tugging on the mechanics hair, grabbing tools from readers apron, whistling and asking too many questions about the practicality of certain tool ect.)

A/N: TEA REQUESTING BOOTHILL, SOUND THE ALARMS AND GET TO WORKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET OFF YOUR ASSS! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKIE <3 <3

Content: Boothill x Reader, no pronouns used, Boothill calls you darling bc ofc, playful Boothill

“What’s this for again?” 

“It’s for the little screws that connect your plating together”

“Hm, looks like you can stab someone with it” Boothill commented, eyeing the thinner tool peeking from your work apron which lost its original white color, having changed to a washed out green with blotches of oil and metallic spray paint. It’s been only half a system hour since Boothill first stepped into the mechanic station you worked at, and already he has made a score for how many questions can be asked within those 30 or so minutes. It’s been a terrible morning with terrible weather and terrible news and terrible first customer, and this talking-your-ear off wasn't something you needed - it wasn’t exactly soothing, but you had no heart to tell him to quiet down.

You love to hear him talk while you work, you got used to it and have adjusted to it long ago, but today just had to be special. It had started to grow distracting and such distractions can’t be afforded if you are to properly fix the jammed plating and components within his arm. The plating pressed onto the wires within, making his entire arm remain in a constant position that would be painful were he still made whole of flesh and bone. The uncomfortable bend of it made you cringe when you saw it, reminding you of that one time your leg cramped badly from, and so you quickly got to work.

“Anything can be used as a weapon if you find ya’self in a bad situation, ain’t that right, darling?” Boothill mused, his cramped arm extended towards you as you worked your way to separate all the plating, the jammed and bent screws making it harder to pull apart. “Perhaps I should get m’self one of those too, y’know- for some close-range encounters. But then again, there’s not many situations that my bullets can’t help to resolve” he kept going, looking at your eyes that focused on the opening you made.

“Y-yeah..” you absentmindedly responded, not being able to pay too much attention to his words, but you caught a few words of ‘weapon’ and ‘gun’ and made a surface connection based on that. ‘Just nod along..’ You were distracted from the start of this day, despite your denial of that.

What came unexpectedly was two of his metal hands coming up to pinch a loose and hanging lock to tug on it, just enough to break your focus and move your head back. “Ow- heyy!” you protested as you turned to sharply glare at him. “I’m trying to fix you up here, you know? Do you want your arm stuck like this for the rest of time?” Your words are a challenge to him, and he greets it with a toothy grin. a hearty chuckle and slanted, hiding warmth behind them under a guise of mischief.

“Oh, come on! You’ve been fixing me up for a long time, and we are on friendly terms are we not, partner? What got you so gloomy today, I haven’t don’ anything wrong, have I?” His fingers give another small tug to your lock of hair before you pull your head back and your hair out of his hold, shaking your head. He was acting so stubborn now! What in the world has gotten into him?

“No! But come on- Hey!” you try to grab the screwdriver before Boothill fishes it out of the pocket of your apron with his good hand, twirling it between his fingers and staring at it as if he struck gold with his catch. Your hands all but abandoned your work on his arm, standing up to retrieve the screwdriver from his hold but he persists, stretching like a big, long cat to move the screwdriver out your way, and despite his disadvantage of sitting  down in a chair, he did a wonderful work of avoiding your grabby hands.

You huffed in frustration, biting your lip in hopes to choke back the laugh you felt bubbling in your throat. Your face was flushed from holding your breath and chasing him around and around, yet moving nowhere.

“Boothill, give it back! I need that for your arm, you fool” you argue, making another dash for his hand, only to grab onto air as he swiftly moves his hand down. 

“Nah, I think I may try doing this m’self, can’t have you working on me in that sour of a mood. I don’t know what I’ve done- hold on, has someone else soured your mood?” 

“Give- it - back” in some last ditch attempt to pry the screwdriver from his hands before he can do more damage than good, you threw yourself over his shoulder from behind, reaching for his wrist with one hand and grabbing the screwdriver with the other. “Whoa there!” you hear him cheer, more laughter coming from him, and this time you can’t help but choke out a chuckle, now at the grips with him. Toe-to-toe and at a tug of war.

“No one has soured my mood, now, please, give it back” you plead but he stays stubborn, shaking his head and  you feel his head turn and tilt, his nose touching your shoulder. “Wh-” you gasp as you feel his teeth nipping at your shoulder through your clothes, a playful snap of his jaw before he is pulling away just as quickly as he leaned in. 

As you turn and twist to look at him in pure and utter disbelief, his eyes catch yours, and he sees just how flushed you look and before long he is losing his grip on the screwdriver from laughing. 

“Oh shut up, you ranger! That was so unnecessary!” You won the screwdriver back, but at what cost? Yet.. seeing him laughing so earnestly was contagious. 

Boothill himself often came in for check up and fix ups with a sour and snappy mood, but never at you, and he always made it a point not to burden you with gloom and boredom of his situation, he never lacked to tell you stories of the world and where his travels took him when you weren’t around. And god- it’d be a lie to say you didn’t try to cheer him up more than once before. It finally dawned on you that perhaps you were too gloomy and he was trying to cheer you up, in whatever way he could, given his own circumstances.

“Ahh, you should go and take a look at yourself, darling, you look red like a sweet berry, pah!” 

How could you not be distracted when you had such genuine company? No gloom can pierce this cowboy. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

#-dragon.treasure #Boothill #Boothill x reader #Boothill x you #Boothill x y/n #gn reader #boothill imagine #boothill fluff #Honkai star rail #Honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagine #penacony #hsr boothill #hsr boothill x reader #hsr #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #boothill x gn reader

[revehae]

weak (r. fantasies)

warnings: smut, noncon, virgin!jisung x (f) anemic!reader, drugging

wc. 990

i been writing this on and off for 24 days and youre telling me its only 990 words im not a serious person at all… fake news its longer now cause i suddenly added one (1) sentence. thank you @neocentral for holding a gun to my head

for two entire days, jisung was antsy. even the mere thought of you, no matter how brief, made a cool wind sweep over his shoulders and his gut tighten uncomfortably.

he knew what he was going to do, and he knew how he was going to do it, but even more so, he knew that it was wrong.

but if he knew that it was wrong, then why did he resolve himself to do it anyway? why did he smile in your face as if he didn’t know that he was about to hurt you? why didn’t he give jeno back his stuff, instead of holding onto it all this time?

jisung didn’t have any idea what it was, other than what jeno had told him while pressing the tiny bag into his chest. colorless, odorless, tasteless, and she’ll be out long enough for you to do all the dirty, perverted stuff you’re too scared to do while she’s awake.

but the truth was that compared to the thought of doing it while you were awake, this terrified jisung tenfold. would it still hurt you, bother you? would you feel the soreness between your thighs and instantly know what he had done? would you hate him more because you wouldn’t remember?

those were the thoughts hurtling through his head when you got up to use the bathroom. but if he was going to do it, he had to act quickly. your nightstand was littered with prescriptions pills and jisung knew you took the iron supplements every night. he poured the powder into your water bottle, watching it disappear as he shook it.

jisung’s heart raced at a rhythm he never knew could be possible when you came back and grabbed a hold of your water bottle. you didn’t make a face, drinking it like nothing was the matter. and he was surprised by how quickly you were out. in the few minutes it took to take effect, you didn’t even have time to become sleepy.

for a long minute, jisung didn’t even seem to remember why he had done this anymore. he was staring at your face, poking your cheek to see if you would react, but you didn’t stir. he worried that maybe you were dead, but when he put his finger to the base of your neck, there was still a normal pulse.

jisung’s breath quickened when he realized all of the things he could do to you right now. he didn’t dive in headfirst like he thought he would, his fingers absentmindedly trailing your soft skin first. he started with your neck, since his hand was already there, gently tightening his fingers around it. he wanted to mark you so badly, but he couldn’t.

he brought his thump up to your bottom lip, overcome by the formerly suppressed urge to kiss you, and with nothing to stop him, he pressed his lips to yours. he was mildly annoyed that you couldn’t kiss him back, but on the bright side, he still had the opportunity to touch you.

to do all the dirty, perverted stuff he was too scared to do while you were awake, as jeno put it.

his words always echoed in jisung’s head, influencing him in ways that were less than healthy. you could easily take her, if you weren’t so weak in the knees, jeno would tease, nudging jisung painfully. she’s anemic, for fuck’s sake. she can’t be that strong. 

jisung pulled back to gape at you in your night gown. he always thought you looked good in them. the way they gave away your collarbone and the little lace ribbon where your cleavage stopped, and the way the cute sleeves cuffed at your wrists was endearing to him.

but right now, as he gingerly bunched up the dress and caught sight of your lilac, cotton panties, the only thing he could think about was how desperately he ached to be inside you, to feel your sticky, throbbing walls cling around his virgin cock. to prove that he wasn’t a coward, that he wasn’t weak like you were. 

and for that reason, he couldn’t be slow and steady anymore. he knew there was no clock on him, nothing pacing him and nothing threatening to tear him away from the warmth of you, but his self-restraint had already worn thin and he was running on empty.

jisung convinced himself that you wanted him as he sheathed himself deep inside you with a guttural groan, every impatient inch of him. it may not have come from your mouth, but the slick somewhat facilitating his entry was answer enough. you may not have known what was happening, but your body was hyper aware.

god, jisung’s was, too. he couldn’t resist the tight squeeze, the way your pussy gripped him for dear life, and he tipped his head forward as his hands gripped your thighs to anchor himself before he fell too deep. even they were warm, the most cute and supple pair.

his eyes were completely closed, winced shut at the first pulse of your warm and tight cunt around his dick. he knew you would have loved him, if you could feel him. he knew he was big enough to please you. the guys too often teased him, saying he had all those inches, but not a hint of what to do with any.

but jisung knew right now. driving his hips passionately into yours, big hands clasping at your soft, moisturized skin, he knew he could make you feel things unimaginable. the sounds you were unknowingly yanking out of his throat, he could easily pull out of you. the way his face tensed with pleasure, he was certain he could make short work of you, too. 

“so weak,” jisung whispered into deaf ears, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your ravishing scent. he imagined you calling him sungie like you always did, and it only made him grunt. “it’s okay. i’ll protect you. like i always have.”

#tw: noncon #tw: drugging #park jisung smut #nct jisung smut #jisung smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #park jisung x reader #nct dream hard hours #revehae fantasies

[pdflayn]

Tip-Toe (1.8k)

Lando Norris x Reader !

summary : you and lando had lunch at lando's family house

tags: smut !! p in v, unprotected sex, f receiving, fingering, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, degradation & praise kink, a bit of slapping.

note: AFTER A LONG TIME FINALLY HAD THE CHANCE TO WRITE AGAINN

It was a normal Sunday morning inside Lando’s condo as the both of you are snuggled up under his sheets. Another race week is approaching and he will be flying to Canada on Tuesday so you really want to spend most of your waking days in Lando’s arms while he’s still here in the UK.

“Good morning, baby.” You hear your boyfriend mumble with his morning voice which is often very cute to hear. You leaned in to his side to give him a quick kiss on the cheek in which he returned in the form of a hug, making you his little spoon like you always were. “What do you want for breakfast?” You asked as you melted into his embrace. Moments like this made Lando’s head spin, it feels unreal that he’s beside a literal angel.

“Can you be one of the choices?” You immediately turned around and slapped him lightly in the chest and gave him your irritated stare which he only laughed at. “God, Lan, it’s too early.”

“Eggs and toast then, is that an option?” You nodded as a response and kissed him one last time before standing up and fixing your side of the bed. You went out of the bedroom and straight to the kitchen to cook breakfast for the both of you. Soon enough you heard footsteps coming closer to you along with hands wrapping around you from behind.

“Mom wants to have lunch with us later, do you feel like going?” he whispers as he rests his head on your shoulder, hiding his head to the crook of your neck leaving a little kiss. “Sure, why not? I miss your mom, we don’t get to talk much anymore.”

“I’m pretty sure she misses her favorite daughter too.” Lando jokes before placing a kiss on your cheek. He removed himself from you and sat himself down at the kitchen table as you served breakfast. The both of you ate in complete chaos because there’s never a dull day with Lando Norris, never.

“What do you think? Do I look good?” You said as you stepped out of his walk-in closet with a cute orange sundress. “Or does the skim dress look better?” Lando looked at you in awe, he always does. “You look great in both, even better without it.” You shook your head with Lando’s response, you couldn’t help but smile with it as well.

You decided to go with the sundress and a cute little purse to match with your outfit and flat sandals. The drive was quite short since there was no traffic and his parent’s house wasn't far away as well. To be honest, their house is somewhat your home now, since you were a child you would always go there as your mother arranged playdates with Lando and some other kids. As a teenager you would always come around to help Lando with his studies to make it less of a burden for his career and in return he would give you tickets to your favorite concerts. And then there goes the dating phase, their family would always invite yours for dinner and even during events and holidays. You were all just one big family and nothing makes you even happier than that.

“There you are! We’ve been waiting for the both of you to show up. Come sit!” Lando’s mom said as she opened the door for us. Turns out we were the ones left to arrive and the food was already served. “I hope the both of you are hungry, I accidentally cooked a whole feast.”

The lunch was going smoothly but knowing Lando, he would always have something that screams trouble. It’s imprinted to his whole existence. You can’t look at this man and tell yourself he’s not going to cause trouble because one way or another, he always will.

He took off his shoe on one foot and was aiming for your thigh since the both of you sat on opposite sides facing each other. But instead of your thigh, he touched something else which made the both of you surprised. Making you choke on your food and making people stare at you, so you reply with an “I’m okay.”

As soon as everyone finished eating, you stood up and went straight to Lando’s room, still a bit flushed with what happened and a bit hilarious because Lando never really pulls up things like what he did just a moment ago. Soon enough, Lando appears inside the room, smiling from ear to ear like a kid. You lightly slapped him in the cheek, “So what, are we toe-fucking now?” You asked and the both of you bursted out laughing.

“We can if you want to?” Lando giggled as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I think I prefer your tip rather than your toe.” Lando smiled at your response, “Good answer, love.”

With his hands still on your waist, he guided you to his bed, laying you down as he crawled on top of you. He kissed you feverishly, the both of you fighting for dominance waiting for someone to give in. and that someone was you as you felt pressure caused by his knee on your pussy. Your mouth went wide open as a low moan was heard from you making Lando grin. He knows how much he affects you. “You need to be quiet, baby, or mom will hear us. Wouldn’t want her to think her favorite daughter-in-law is such a slut don’t we?” You squirmed at his words.

You arched your back from all the overstimulating sensations caused by Lando. Your chest touching his, it pushed Lando to his edge. He held your hips tightly making you wince as he switched your position. You were now straddling his lap as he sat down. He guided you at his erection, making you grind your hips slowly as you feel him with your aching pussy.

His hands roamed around your body, tracing every part of you as he slowly took off your sundress. His hands went in to cup your cheek, you were all flushed, feeling all hot and needy. “God, you look so perfect.” he said before diving to your lips, kissing you roughly, biting each other’s lips until the taste of blood is evident. You felt his hand sneak inside your panties, playing with your wet folds. “You’re so wet, so wet for me.” He groaned at the feeling of you clenching at his fingers inside of you.

“Lan..” before you could even say anything, Lando leaned to you and shushed you. He added another finger, stretching you wider. You bit your lip as an attempt to be quiet but failed as he fastened his pace with his fingers inside of you. You gripped on the headrest of the bed for dear life as you started to tremble. You were almost at your peak until you felt emptiness as Lando pulled out his fingers.

You whined at the loss of touch from Lando. “Put it back, please.” You pleaded but Lando was playing deaf, only smiling at your request. He unclasped your bra, revealing your tits in which he delved on. His tongue flicking your nipple while his other hand playing with your other tit.

Lando switched your places once again, he's now on top of you. Kissing you from your lips down to your neck, leaving marks you will definitely struggle to hide soon enough. His kisses traced all the way down to your torso as he finally reached the hem of your panties. He looked at you like he was asking for permission and it made you giggle. This man literally just denied you of your first orgasm and had the guts to ask permission to take off your panties.

You nodded as a response to his request. And as soon as he did, he started kissing you from your inner thigh up to your slit. He blows cold air making you shiver from anticipation.

He started to give kitten licks on your folds, teasing your entrance with his tongue. Your hands locked in his curls as you try to shove his head down on you. Each flick of his tounge made you crazy, writhing in pleasure, not knowing what to hold and where to put yourself. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good.” Lando hummed as he continued to devour you. Hearing Lando eat you out with all the sensual noises the both of you makes you haywire. You can feel the build up of pleasure inside of you, your legs trembling once again.

“Damn it Lando!-” You hissed at him as he abruptly stopped, denying you of your orgasm which stressed you out. “You're such a dick-” You said to him as soon as he leveled with you but you were replied with a slap which made you form tears in your eyes. “Talk more like that and you won't be getting this dick, you hear me?” Lando said as he kissed the cheek he slapped.

He kneeled on top of you and removed every piece of fabric left on him and kissed you roughly. “Oh fuck, I wanna be inside you, baby. I wanna make you feel so good.” You moaned at his words as you felt him slowly entering inside you.

“Fuck- Lan-” He placed a hand on your mouth, covering your moans not because he doesn't want to hear them, oh god how he wanted to hear thos beautiful screams of yours, but this is a different situation. A more thrilling situation.

“Look at you taking me so well. It's such a shame I can't hear your pretty moans.” He said as he applied pressure on your lower abdomen, doubling the pleasure you felt. It was a surprise to you how you could hold your screams from everything that Lando has been doing to you.

“Lan- Fuck! Please, I wanna-”

“You wanna cum? Go on baby, let it out, make a fucking mess.” And so you did. Clenching around him as you reach your peak makes him groan. He didn't stop, not even for a bit. He kept ramming inside of you, you felt him so deep inside of you.

You started trembling, sensitive all over your body, overstimulated. You started to cry which somehow made Lando more eager. “Lan- stop-” you whimpered but you didn't really mean it. You can feel another build up inside of you. “Come on, baby, one more. Cum with me?”

Heavy groans and low moans along with the sound of skin slapping against each other were the only things heard inside his room as both reached their highs. “I love you.” Lando whispers in your ear in which you replied with a hug as you felt all his weight on top of yours but still enough for you to not have trouble breathing.

“Let's go get you cleaned up.”

#layn archive ! #f1 imagine #formula 1 fic #f1 smut #lando norris #lando norris smut #ln4 #ln4 smut #ln4 imagine

[rainbowhao]

we're just friends, right? ♡ beomgyu

genre: fluff/pining ⭒ word count: 0.8k ⭒ read part one

synopsis: the line between friends and lovers is blurred

it didn’t help that you were always clingy towards beomgyu. everyone was convinced you were dating and the more-than-friendly actions only made things worse. it’s just that you were a little touchy, that’s all. so what if you stared at each other longer than deemed normal? it’s not like you were in love with him or something.

only now, you weren't so sure.

“yeonjun said something about us again.” you only mentioned it to see his reaction. your fingers had resumed tracing his skin, the two of you lying there as if it was entirely normal to wake up in the same bed together.

gyu’s mouth quirked at this. “what’d you say?”

“to worry about his own love life.”

he chuckled. “still won’t let it go. even soobin’s been on me more than usual.”

“yeah?” you tried not to appear too interested. 

he hummed. “wouldn't it be funny if we actually started dating, though? imagine their reactions.” 

“yeah, funny.” you didn’t have it in you to laugh. as you examined the little bears on his pajamas, mouth downturned, beomgyu looked over at you hopefully.

catching a cold only furthered your confusion. your best friend had been quick to bundle you up and tuck you into his own bed (he’d insisted you stay at the dorm to make things easier). did whatever you needed—brought you soup, ran a warm bath—and even in your delirious state, his gentle hair stroking had your heart racing.

“that feel good, baby?” beomgyu asked softly. you were watching him through half-lidded eyes. he didn’t even seem to notice the nickname slip. a washcloth dabbed at your forehead, his fingers gently moving aside your damp hair.

[a/n: had to set my phone down after this one] 

then there was the fact that every time he offered to buy you a treat, he’d smear a little ice cream on your cheek. it was a harmless gesture—you’d glare at him, he’d hand you a napkin—only this time, he was a little bolder, loud laughter fading into seriousness.

“i'll get it,” he told you. 

you were entirely still as he wiped away the sticky substance with the pad of his thumb. he took his time, body close to yours and expression filled with nothing but adoration.

you were about to swat him away with how long he looked. “what?” you sighed.

“nothing,” gyu said quickly before licking his finger.

you narrowed your eyes. “why are you staring?” 

he ignored this. “i want a taste of yours.” his attention was now directed at the strawberry cone. but when you tried to hand it to him, he shook his head. “feed it to me.”

so you brought the ice cream to his lips; your hand was shaky as you did so. heat filled your chest as you glanced around nervously. there was no one else around to see the tender act—just the boy who stood patient with long fluttering eyelashes and a mouth parted.

“yum.” he swallowed, tongue licking away the remaining drops in the corner of his lips after finishing the (very large) bite he’d taken. you had to force yourself to look away. 

“actually, i lied.” beomgyu confessed a minute later.

you were finishing your cone. “huh?”

“i didn’t really want your ice cream. i mean—i wanted to taste something else.” he stumbled before eventually falling silent, eyes widening in realization. “shit, that came out wrong. hold on.”

the thing about beomgyu was that whenever he was embarrassed, he’d get the urge to bury his face in the crook of your neck—press his burning cheeks against your skin and squeeze his eyes shut. even now, in the middle of the park, was no exception. 

“gyu,” you laughed, hand automatically finding his back, “what are you doing?”

“hiding,” he grumbled. “i’m messing this up.”

you patted him lightly. “what do you mean? can’t you just tell me?”

his response was muffled.

“a little louder,” you urged.

“ah, seriously,” beomgyu huffed before pulling back. you could hear him loud and clear now. “i said i want to kiss you , not eat your dumb ice cream.”

somewhere along the way, the long-running joke about you and beomgyu secretly liking each other had become entirely real. suddenly, it didn’t feel so far out of reach—you and him dating.

“you,” you gulped, “you want to—”

“please don’t make me say it again,” he pleaded. with a defeated sigh, his head lulled forward til  his forehead gently knocked yours. “can’t keep pretending anymore.”

his skin was warm, white shirt billowing in the afternoon breeze. his hands gripped your waist like he was scared you would run away. your palm came up to press flat against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. you could feel his rapid heartbeat. 

“me either,” you said honestly.

“would love to see the looks on their faces.” he smirked. “maybe this will finally shut them up.”

beomgyu wasted no time taking your lips in his. his kisses were soft and needy, fingers pressing into your sides. neither of you could stop smiling, eventually pulling away just to giggle in each other’s arms because you were so happy.

“if you think i was clingy before,” you’re grinning now, “prepare to be absolutely smothered.”

#beomgyu #tomorrow x together #txt #choi beomgyu #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt yeonjun #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt fanfic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #txt fics #beomgyu fics #kpop imagines #txt drabbles #beomgyu drabbles

[astralis-ortus]

thunders of rage

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— even through the worst days, you're still my priority.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, comfort warning → mild cussing, reader had a bad day and lashes out at chan :(, one time jump, kissies, chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as baby and babe a.n → based on this request! tysm for requesting♡

the word terrible doesn’t even cover the magnitude of bad luck you’ve been facing for the past 10 hours.

from waking up late for work, buses not operating due to a strike and causing the subway being jam-packed, getting absolutely roasted by your supervisor for someone else’s mishap, having your work ruined by a coworker, to barely surviving the somehow never-ending rush hour while running only on a single piece of toast you had in the morning—you’re absolutely in no condition to socialize, even for the slightest bit.

“hey, babe,” your boyfriend’s cheery voice was the first thing you heard as soon as you stepped inside your shared apartment. noises coming out from the speaker on your living room were the thing you noticed next—and you swear you’re so close to losing your sanity.

“how was your day? i saw you barely ate your breakfast when i got back from the gym. are you okay?” oblivious to your nonexistent reply, chris had his eyes glued to the game while he continued to talk. “i haven’t decided what to make for dinner, by the way. do you—”

“can you decide that on your own?” you finally cut your boyfriend off, tone of your voice catching chris off guard. you’re not one to speak sharply—you know it might offend the other party even when you didn’t mean to, and chris knew that about you.

so when he heard that tone being used against him, chris knew something is absolutely wrong.

“let’s get ice cream, then?” chris immediately paused his game and shifted his focus onto you. he sees it now—the seemingly permanent subtle frown on your forehead, the nonexistent glint on the reflection of your eyes, the messy bun on top of your head.

something stresses you out. bad.

“sure.”

chris watched your exhausted trudge head towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water, contemplating the best course of action to get grumpy you to cheer up even just for a little. “and some pizza? or some dimsum? while we wait i’ll run a bath—”

“goddammit, chris!” the loud sound of cup slamming on the countertop startled chris out of his sentence, eyes wide when confusion, irritation, and hurt started to mix in his chest. “i just told you to decide it on your own! stop bothering me! do i need to make every decision for you? god!”

the room fell silent as chris tried to digest the words you aimed at him—but it felt like his head was on static. it only took him a second to get up and grab a hoodie, suppressing any reaction his instinct was telling him to do before he said something he would regret.

“i’m gonna go cool off,” chris quietly said as he headed towards the door, momentarily stopping to look at your tense back. he desperately wanted to stay—but he knows you needed time to be on your own.

“you should cool off too.”

and with that, chris left.

it’s been nearly two hours since chris left, and after a cup of warm tea and a long bath later, guilt finally caught you up in its tight grip.

you knew what you did towards chris was wrong—chris was simply trying to make sure he’s getting something you like because he knows only then your mood would seem to improve, but instead, all you did was accuse him of trying to bother you.

thoughts ran through your head while you stare at your boyfriend’s phone number, thumb hovering over the green button as you try to piece an apology in your head. you’re genuinely worried—it’s getting later in the night, and you still haven’t heard even a single peep from chris. you can’t help but feel worried.

but just as you were about to press the call button, your ears finally picked up the sound of your front door cracking open—chris is home.

“baby, i’m ho—”

chris stopped in his tracks as he felt warmth suddenly enveloping him—you’re hugging him tight, face buried on the span of his chest.

“i’m sorry,” you quickly whispered, barely allowing him time to process what happened within the span of 5 seconds. “i was wrong. i shouldn’t have acted like that. i just really had a terrible day, and—”

“hey, hey, hey,” chris couldn’t help but chuckle, finally wrapping his arm around you after he finally set down the plastic bags on the countertop nearby. “breathe, baby. slow down. you’re okay.”

peering up at chris, your guilt only seemed to dig its claws deeper when you saw his dimpled smile, beautiful eyes gazing right at you even after the sharp words you threw at him.

you felt like crap.

“i’m really sorry,” you croaked another apology, now near tears with the tip of your lips turned down. “i really acted like an ass back there but you still became the bigger person between us. i would’ve understood if you shouted at me, but—”

“baby,” chris shook his head as he gently cradled your face, pads of his thumbs running softly against your cheeks, “i would never forgive myself if i ever raised my voice at you, even during a fight. you’re my girlfriend—you’re someone i need to protect, and that’s what i’ll always try to do.”

the way chris loves you never fails to render you speechless.

some might say you’re the bigger romantic between the two of you—date plans, endless whispers of ‘i love you’s, constantly wrapping yourself around his arm. it’s all what people would see; but you know the nights chris would pull you closer when he notices your tossing and turning, allowing you to settle to the rhythm of his heartbeat. you know the days when he would buy you a single stem of the prettiest sunflower or the loveliest bloom of rose, all because you said you’ve always liked flowers but never the huge bouquet. you know how he would always walk on the side nearest to the road, and the way his arm never left the curve of your waist.

you know the subtle ways he remembers—his ways of saying i love you, and you would never change that for anything in the world.

“kiss me.”

a chuckle rumbles in chris’ chest to your request, beautiful twinkle in his eyes turning you warm and fuzzy. he then gently tipped your chin, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ as he brought his lips onto yours, relishing in the way swarms of butterflies burst under your feverish skin.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

#stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #stray kids comfort #skz comfort #bang chan comfort #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #bang chan scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #stray kids au #skz au #bang chan au #stray kids drabbles #skz drabbles #bang chan drabbles #stray kids x you #skz x you #bang chan x you #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids #skz #bang chan

[norris55s]

the summer i turned pretty - charles leclerc & arthur leclerc

a reader x charles leclerc & arthur leclerc love triangle, pt. 2

pt. 1

warnings: none other than angst?

a/n: a million years later here is part 2 but it’s not over ladies and gentlemen! i hope it doesn’t suck lol. part 3 will come. also i’ve now added charlotte siné as the fc for practical purposes!

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Day 4

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As I opened the door, terrified at who I was going to see behind it, I met Charles’ bloodshot eyes staring daggers into mine.

“Y/N, let’s talk, please. I screwed up, but let me explain,” he quickly said before I could even mutter a word.

I was still as speechless as I had been last night. Without a word, I moved aside to let him in my room, but he shook his head and insisted on talking to me at the beach. I just obliged, trying my best to be quiet around the house so as to not wake anyone up.

As soon as we arrived on the shore, Charles invited me to sit down and I once again just obliged. My heart was pounding on my ears and I felt like it would jump out of my body at any second.

“I feel like I should start at the beginning,” Charles said, while I looked to the sea instead of looking at him.

“I’ve always loved you. There has always been something about you that comforts me and makes me happy. I just didn’t realize how deep it went until last summer, when I realized that you kissing Antoine ruined the entire season for me.”

I tried to recall any reaction from Charles when I hooked up with Antoine last year that could’ve been a sign, but I found nothing in my memories. I was too busy sulking over the fact that he didn’t and would never like me, but I had been proved wrong 365 days later. The words were in my head but they didn’t make sense. Why would Charles Leclerc like me, much less love me?

“I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve tried to think nothing of it, I’ve tried to deny it and it’s been no use.”

The irony of me doing the same thing for years was not lost on me. How I have pined for years not realizing he spent some of that time feeling the same way was borderline funny.

“Will you please look at me?” Charles asked with a hint of desperation in his voice, making it impossible for me to deny his request even if I knew any resolve or strength I had left in me would evaporate the minute my eyes met his.

The butterflies in my stomach felt like a swarm of wasps, and I’m sure the blush in my face evidenced it. Charles’ green eyes, the object of all my hidden wishes for as long as I could recall, stared into mine looking to decipher my emotions.

I wished I could say he found nothing but love, but in between all those beautiful feelings of loving and being loved in return, I could still sense a wretched feeling of disappointment.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” a stronger voice than expected called him out. All this time he had to know I felt the same way, but he let me believe there wasn’t a chance in hell he could care about me beyond a friendship.

“It took me too long to even understand it. Even then, I couldn’t justify changing your life on a crush, or hurt you and ruin it all. I still don’t know if I can justify it, but I know I can’t stand it anymore. I love you and I’m done pretending I don’t, or that you don’t love me too.”

When I searched into his eyes, all I could find was sincerity. And it was enough for me to jump into the deep end, leaning closer to him in hopes he would initiate the kiss I’ve desperately wanted for far too much time.

He granted my wishes, placing both of his hands on my neck to connect our lips. It was just like I imagined it.

Soft, passionate, unrushed, warm. I felt the fireworks that everyone speaks of go off in my head, and I just knew Charles felt them too.

As we pulled away to breathe, struggling to even think of ever separating me from him ever again, Charles smiled brightly.

“Can you say you love me too, mon cœur?” he asked so prettily I could coo at him.

“I love you, Charles Leclerc,” I obliged, because how could I say no to him?

“And I love you, Y/N L/N,” he replied, smiling even bigger, and kissing me even better.

Our bubble of a newfound love lasted a while, but was eventually meant to break when I received a text from Arthur.

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The conversation about Arthur with Charles wasn’t the hard part at all. The older brother brushed the kiss off as a drunken mistake, and was a little too confident on who my choice would be.

The conversation about Charles with Arthur would be the hard part, and I didn’t even have time to settle down in my bed after the rollercoaster of emotions I had just gone through when Arthur barged in.

He looked happy to see me, and it broke my heart.

In trying to find the words to say I couldn’t be with him, and before I could mutter them, he hugged me.

“I’ve been trying to find you all this time, where have you been chérie?” Arthur smiled, but it quickly faded once he realized my energy wasn’t the same.

“Arthur…”

“Chérie, don’t say it was a mistake because you know it wasn’t. Fuck my brother, you know that this is right.”

“I’m so sorry…” I began and pushed back further away from him, as if my next words would hurt him any less because of it. “Charles and I spoke, and we have realized our feelings for each other…” I looked down, cowardly, unable to face his reaction. “You know I’ve loved him forever and I am just so sorry for leading you on.”

Like it always happened between us, I didn’t have to look at him, and he didn’t have to say anything. I just knew that we were done.

He stormed out of the room.

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charles_leclerc added to his stories

y/ninstagram added to her close friends stories

arthur_leclerc added to his stories

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#f1 #f1 au #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 fake texts #charles leclerc texts #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc smau #arthur leclerc au #arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc

[pixiiipie]

how do we feel about zayne in lingerie? (sub zayne drabble • minors dni)

after many sweet moments with him where you let your hands trace every part of him that you can, he wants to surprise you for all of your kind words. it becomes routine for you to help him get undressed after a long day and you never shy away from kissing him all over while calling him beautiful. zayne can’t help but be enamoured by you and melt into your every action. it isn’t hard to see that his body visibly relaxes as soon as you look at him.

it’s the least he can do but he feels a little embarrassed looking through all the pretty designs and knowing he’s buying them for himself. you’ve mentioned wanting to dress him in something to accentuate his shape and make him feel special so he’s comforted with the thought of making you happy (and he’s a little excited to possibly be praised even more).

zayne picked chose to show off his new purchase to you on a day where you were both supposed to have dinner together but you were called away to an emergency attack. you felt so rotten about having to miss what was going to be a romantic evening between you two but with a kiss, zayne gave you all of his love and wished you to stay safe (and sent you off with a quickly made dinner you could eat on the way with a cute note attached to help you stay strong). even if it didn’t lead to anything, he just wanted to brighten your day by dressing for you. he waited patently for you to message him that you were coming home then began getting changed.

it felt… comfortable and looked incredible but his only insecurity about it was how his dick didn’t quite fit in the small lace panties. aside from this, he understood the appeal even more to be the one wearing lingerie and looked forward to showing this to you. although, he remembered that it’s usually women who wear this kind of thing and it brought back all of his embarrassment. he tried to keep thinking of you to remember how worth it’ll be when you gaze so softly (or hungrily) at him. he struggled with how he was going to show it to you and not feel out of place but he soon decided on something…

———

coming home after an intense battle was exhausting enough but knowing you missed dinner with zayne made you really want to return back quickly but also hide forever. you wonder if this is how he felt when he was rushed back to the hospital and had to postpone plans.

everything ached and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep in zayne’s arms and forget about your entire evening. as soon as you entered your shared home, you were met with a warm embrace and soft words “i’m so glad you’re home and safe. i love you.” tender moments were so easy with him now. you’ve successfully melted the ice that once was dr zayne and are now left with your loving husband.

however as he led you to bed with one arm around you, you saw a sliver of something white under his dressing gown. your curiosity was short lived when he lay on the bed and opened his dressing gown to present himself to you. zayne was is beautiful.

all he wore was a white lace bralette and matching panties but that was all it took to leave you breathless. “what is it my love? a little tired from work?” zayne asks with a smile taking in the fact you’ve been staring at him up and down without saying anything for a little while. you’re so glad that’s he’s gotten more confident when flirting with you but he’s a little too confident now and your heart is paying the price for it. the only words you could manage were a quiet “oh my gosh” as you mentally saved this image of zayne (who was now getting a little breathless from how long you’ve been staring at him).

“is this okay?” he asks making sure you were okay and to reassure himself that he’s not gone too far. to help ease his mind, you simply lean in and kiss him making sure to hold his waist with one of your hands and rub small circles with your thumb. “you are so handsome.” you tell him, breaking the kiss but staying close. “you work so hard my love. you’re so dear to me.” zayne says, the compliments making his head fuzzy but eager to shower you in his love.

“this is so much better than dinner.” you say, straddling him to admire him again. “i’m not sure how to take that.” zayne replies in a curt tone.

“just say yes when i ask if i can tuck in to you instead.” you say leaning into his neck and placing your knee in between his.

“please” zayne whines.

#sub character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub!character #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #sub love and deepspace #sub love & deepspace #love & deepspace #zayne love & deepspace #love & deepspace zayne #love & deepsace x reader #sub l&ds #l&ds #lads zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne l&ds #sub zayne #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #zayne x reader #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #💜•zayne #💜•maris drabbles #💜•lingerie #love & deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x reader

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: Rafe x Nanny Reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside was dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: Fluff, 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), cream pie, mention of oral, fingering (f receiving), mentions of drugs

Wc:8.2K

A/N: Sorry for the long wait it has been a hectic week. I had a lot to do for this job I applied for so I was busy. But good news is that I got it! Anyway last chapter which is sad, but I hope you enjoy. Thank you for all the love this series has gotten. I owe it all to everyone of you!

Chapter 9: Laying All Our Cards Down

There’s a tickling feeling on your chest. It slowly stirs you from your sleep. The objects in you dream fading into shapes, then blobs of random color. Your hand goes to relieve the itch, still half asleep. Your fingers brush against a hand, their fingers the cause of what woke you. 

Rafe’s eyes watched you as you woke up, his fingers dropping the pendant to lace together with yours. Your eyes squint open slightly foggy from sleep still. They clear and Rafe is staring at you, his fingers playing with yours. “You put the necklace back on.” He points out, fine lines wrap his eyes showing his confusion. 

“Yeah.” You carefully look at his face, waiting to see if he will mention last night. “Why?” His blue eyes are burrowing into yours, forcing you to look at him. “You know why.” You won’t be the first to bring it up. Refusing to let him back you into a corner to crack you. His nostrils flare, a sharp breath leaving. “I don’t deserve you. It would never work anyway.”

There he is doing it again. Taking back the things he says, leaving you broken. “Well that’s not for you to decide.” Your voice is tense, starting to get upset at where he’s about to go. “How are you feeling?” He’s trying to ignore this conversation. Once you have it there’s no going back.

He can’t sit here and wait for you to leave him. You may be forgiving him now but in the end you will leave him. His mom died to get away from him, his dad would sell him out in a heart beat to get away from him, no one stays. That’s the one thing he learned growing up. The only constant in his life will only be him.

“Don’t ignore me.” You exclaim, your body shooting up to look down at him. “We are having this conversation now. I just want this to be over with.” Your eyes burn him so badly that he has to look behind you at the wall. “I’m not. Just worried about how you feel after what happened.” Liar. You both know he’s not telling the truth

 “Please don’t tell me that you really don’t want anything to do with me. This means something to me.” Your voice is hopeful, wanting him to say he feels the same as you. “Last night was scary until it wasn’t. That’s because I had you. Now please talk to me.” You plead.

Rafe turns his gaze back to you. His red eyes are lined with tears, he knows what he needs to say. It’s just hard for the words to form and make their way out. “This means something to me too.” It’s a whisper, afraid if he says it loudly he’ll wake up from this dream to reality. To a place where you won’t forgive him, a place where he doesn’t have you. “I’m scared you are going to leave me.” He admits, swallowing his pride.

“Why would you think that? Is that how you view me?” Your mind is trying to wrap around his confession. If that’s what he thought of you then you are hurt even more. You could slightly stand the thought of him just not wanting you anymore. The thought of him not trusting you, thinking that you would just leave hurts worse than when you caught him kissing someone else. A panic rises in your body due to your emotions.

Rafe picks up on this, his hand rubbing the arm that is holding you up. Giving you comfort as he speaks. “That’s not what I mean. I just…” He flops on his back to stare at the ceiling. You place a hand on his chest. Returning the sense of safety he gives you. “Everyone leaves me. You know how sad it is that the only person to actually worry about me since my mom died was you? Before her death my dad hated me and it only got worse after. No one has ever liked me and I was okay with that. Then you show up and change everything. I can’t lose that, I won’t be able to handle it.”

You watch each other, letting the words sink in. He’s shocked he even indulged in that conversation, you are just as shocked that he opened up. “So why would that mean I would leave you?” His hand lays on top of the one you kept on his chest. Giving your fingers a squeeze. “It’s inevitable, everyone leaves. Only a matter of time before you realize I’m worth nothing and you leave too. I’m just cursed.” His fingers have a tight hold on you. Using you as his life line, tethering him to the real world as he feels like he’s drowning.

This talk is starting to feel too real for him. Highlighting all of his flaws to put on a talent show for you. A bright spot light shining on a RUN sign to ward you off. You can feel how fast his heart is beating, pounding against his chest. “You are worth something.” Your hand leaves his, cupping his cheek to make him see you. “You Rafe Cameron are worthy of love. I’m sorry no one was smart enough to see it. But I do.” 

Rafe leans up, closing in on you. “You don’t know half of the shit that goes on in my head. I’m not good enough for you. I couldn’t even get this shit right, I’ll only hurt you more.” His hand brushes hair out of your face, tracing your brow and then your lips. “I won’t hurt you. You deserve better than this.”

A tear runs down his cheek and you wipe it. “See that right there just proves you won’t hurt me. I didn’t want to see it at first but you owned your mistake. You ran after me that night and begged me to talk to you. You kept asking me to give you a chance to speak. Then you gave me those flowers with the note and I realized I was shutting you out. I was afraid of you not wanting me and I iced you out.” You take a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m scared too. It’s okay to be scared, we both let it get the best of us. What counts is what we do after. You kept trying, I hope it’s because you care-” “I do. I care.” He interrupts. “See you care and you tried to put in the effort. You even gave me space because you wanted to respect what I wanted. You made a mistake but you are trying to fix it. You might not see it but you are good. You deserve to be loved, don’t punish yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”

His lips crash on yours, stealing the air from your lungs. The kiss is all consuming, devouring you from the inside out. A moan slips out of your mouth, your hand gripping his shoulder. The sound was like an alarm, alerting him of what he was actually doing. He pulls away from you, his hand moving to your chest to put distance between you both. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Stop taking everything back. I want this too, stop running away from us.” There’s some commotion in the hallway but you ignore it. Voices get louder for a second and then fade as they go down the stairs. His eyes catch the pendant on the dainty chain held on your neck. 

He remembers the day he bought it. He had just dropped you off to get the food and stopped at the store. Rafe was walking back to his truck with the bags in his and had to pass the jewelry store. When he got to the front of the shop he looked over and something in him took over. He just had to go inside.

As he walked in, the man behind the counter greeted him. “Are you looking for something specific?” The older man asks. Rafe just shakes his head. “Just looking.” He walks around the store, aimlessly looking at the pieces laying around. He’s not really sure why he came in or why he is even looking at anything. Just when he was going to turn around and leave the store, that's when he saw it.

A dainty necklace that had a sun charm on it. He walks closer to it on instinct, being drawn to it like a beacon. It’s silver, which fits perfectly with the rest of your jewelry, he thinks. The only things you wear is silver, never any gold seen on your skin. “Nice necklace right?” The old man pipes in.

“Huh?” Rafe looks at the guy who is now in front of him. “The necklace. Just got it recently, no one seems to want it.” Rafe looks back down to it. “There a girl you want to get it for.” He just nods, pulling out his wallet without thinking. “Yeah my girl. She uh, she’s like the sun. Thought it would be fitting.”

The man opens the case, taking the piece out for Rafe to see up close. “She must be special then.” Rafe just smiles, looking at the guy as he slides his card over. “You have no idea.” The guy doesn’t move from his spot, looking at the boy that reminded him of when he was younger. “You know it comes with a ring. It was a set this old lady brought in.” He walks over to a different case and pulls the ring out, walking back to the boy. 

“Would you be interested in buying that as well or just the necklace.” Rafe has half a mind to chew the man out for trying to up-sell him. The ring is a band made of silver as well, carvings of a little sun with stars surround the band. His mind is telling him he has no need for the ring. Then the voice in his head stops him, instead of degrading himself it does something different. It reminds him of the car ride, the feeling he had as he looked at you.

He meant it when he said that you were like the sun. A dazzling ray of sunshine personally made for him. You are the greatest thing that’s happened to him in his shitty lifetime. You deserve to feel special too.

“I’ll take them both.” He knows why he got the ring. A part of him deep down knowing that he was falling in love with you. The other part rationalizing the purchase as wanting the old man to fuck off. “You remind me of when I met my wife.” Rafe stops at the door and looks back at the guy who helped him. “I was so in love with her that I bought her an engagement ring a month into seeing her. You just have the same look that I had. I wish you two the best of luck.”

The memory now seems laughable to him. Some random old man could spot how Rafe felt before he could even tell. He only gave you the necklace because he was scared of what he said, he couldn’t have been in love. Leaving the ring in the first drawer on the bedside table. Now he sees just how dumb he really was, he didn’t have anything to worry about. 

“Your love.” That’s all he says to you, leaving you more confused. “What about it?” He chuckles at you, giving you a quick peck. “That’s my favorite song, Your love. I didn’t have one when you asked but I have one now.” This really isn’t helping his case. You sit up fully, looking at him like he’s dumb. He hates that look, especially coming from you. “What the hell does that have to do with any of this? Rafe I’m being serious here, you can’t just keep changing the subject. If you don’t want this anymore just say it.” You kinda feel stupid now. You thought he wanted to work things out, that last night was a step forward in the right direction. But clearly not.

“It’s the song that was playing in the car after Barry’s.” Okay now he’s just getting on your nerves. Who cares what song was playing in the car ride. When you go to speak he puts his hand on your mouth to cover it. “I just couldn’t stop looking at you. You were glowing, so pretty that I couldn’t think straight. My heart felt like it was ready to jump out my chest and my body felt weird. Everything shifted in that moment for me.” His hand lowers, his eyes telling you to not say anything.

“I’ve always had feelings for you, I know that. I’m not dumb. I just thought it was because you didn’t give me the time of day and were so nice. That night when you caught me I figured you would walk away and I got caught up in the moment. Then it escalated and I couldn’t get rid of the taste of you. Every touch was as addicting as the last, I kept craving it. That song, in that moment made me realize how much I actually liked you. Got that necklace right after I left you to get the food. I guess it was my way of telling you I loved you without putting it into words.” 

He said it again, love. Rafe froze the moment his brain caught up to his words. He can’t believe this is how he is saying it. Right after he just figured it out he goes on blurting it to you. Not only that he tells you when you aren’t even together. This is honestly the dumbest he felt and he just said how he isn’t dumb. Good job Rafe.

“Fuck I can’t believe I just said that. Ignore me.” His hands rub his face as he freaks out. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, exposing his face to you. “You said it last night so don’t worry.” You lay down, your chest pressed against his side as he wraps himself around you. “What do you mean?” He plays with the ends of your hair to ground himself. “Last night as you were falling asleep you said you loved me. I just thought it was the drugs and you were out cold after you said it.”

“Oh.” Yeah he has to take his dumb statement back, he definitely is. If he’s already said it then there’s no taking it back, he’s got to commit to it before he chickens out again. “It wasn’t the drugs. Yeah they helped me say it but I meant it. They didn’t make those feelings, they were already there.” You smile, the heaviness you felt being melted away. You move closer to his face.

“Here’s what you missed after you fell asleep. I love you too.” It’s his turn to smile. This one reaches his eyes, creases deepening from the joy. His hand cups your cheeks, thumb caressing your cheek. Pulling you to him, kissing you deeply. Pouring all his feelings into you, hoping you are feeling just an ounce of what he does. He pulls back to talk to you but you have other plans. 

Your lips trail down his neck as he fights to stay level headed. “I meant it when I said I don’t deserve you.” He murmurs into your shoulder, pressing kisses to your skin. You stop, not wanting to move in case this is going in the wrong direction. “But I want to be. I don’t want to be this person anymore. I want to be someone you deserve.”

“I like you the way you are. You don’t have to change for me.” He tugs your hair, coming face to face with your eyes. “I want to do it for me, for us. I don’t like who I am without you, I’m just some addict no one likes. I don’t need to be that anymore, I know I can be different.”

The words seem more for him than they are for you. A way of telling himself that he can get clean and he is worth being with you. “Then I’ll be there every step of the way. I believe in you.” That’s the first time someone has said that to him. He’s been told he was loved before, but not one has believed in him. Now that he’s said he loved you, the feeling keeps bubbling up. 

Like it’s boiling in him ready to spill out once it gets too much. The way you care for him is unsettling due to it being so new, he’s not used to this. But he can get used to the feeling it gives him. The sparks of joy lighting his insides like fireworks.

You lean in and kiss him again, enjoying the feeling of having him close. The days following the incident were awful but they seem worth it now. Some obstacle that needed to be overcome before the two of you could open up. You know for sure that once Ward and Rose got back you would have most likely ended things due to the fear. But losing each other showed you that it’s not what the two of you wanted. You wanted each other.

This kiss was getting heated, your leg bracketing his hips between yours. As you start to grind on him, he stops you. “We should stop.” There’s a knock at the door before you could ask him why. “Who is it?” He shouts towards the door, fingers digging into your flesh as you roll your hips. “It’s Wheeze. Where is she?” You both look at each other not knowing what to do. “She’s not in her room or the house and I know she’s in there.”

Of course she would check everywhere for you. “Go back to your room Wheeze or wherever. I’ll be out shortly.” You answer, trying to get her to leave . “Fine but I better not hear any moaning. Just because I’m okay with this doesn’t mean I want to see it.”

Her footsteps retreat as you giggle. “I want us to take things slow this time. I don’t want to rush in and fuck things up. We should do this properly.” Your fingers drag along his chest, you are still sitting in his lap. “We can do that. Where do we start?” He grins up at you.

“How about a date?”

✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶ 

After that morning you had a talk with Wheezie. You and Sarah sat her down to tell her that the night before was not okay. “Wheeze you could have gotten hurt. Someone could have spiked your drink or worse.” You try to reason with her, conveying your worry for the young girl. “I know but nothing happened. I’m fine.” “And if you weren’t? How do you think dad would have reacted if he found out? You would be grounded and out a nanny.” Sarah chimes in, not really making her sister feel any better. “I know you wanted to hang out with your friends but you need to do it safely. Where were they when Sarah found you? You were alone and drunk Wheeze.”

“It wasn’t supposed to go like that. Sure I had a drink or two but I just wanted you to come find me. I thought you would run into Rafe and everything would fix itself. But hey look it worked.” She’s trying to lighten the mood and it ain’t working. You sigh, not knowing what to say. This mess of a night happened all because Wheezie parent trapped you. 

You honestly can’t help but to laugh at the ridiculous thought. “You parent trapped us? Wheeze that’s sweet you cared enough to help us, it really is. But maybe don’t do things that put you in harm's way and give me a heart attack. I was scared when Sarah couldn’t find you and you wouldn’t answer phone calls.” Thinking back at it now she can see how messed up a plan that really is. “It was stupid. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

The rest of the day was simple. Relax around the house as Wheeze was feeling the aftershocks of drinking. Rafe had chilled with you for a little before running off to do lord knows what. But when he got back it was with a single yellow rose and your favorite chocolates. “Thought you could add it to break up the white.” He makes it seem so effortless, as if he has always done this. You don’t understand why he was so worried.

“How about a date on Saturday?” He asks, picking a chocolate to eat. “Sure what are we going to do?” There’s chocolate smeared on his teeth when he answers. “That’s for me to worry about and for you to find out. Now I’m going to go up stairs and shower. Come up and we can watch Bob Burgers or something.” He finishes off with giving you a kiss, walking out like nothing.

You watch as he leaves, a smile displayed. He remembers the small things about you. The foods you like, shows you watch, he sees you. He may not realize it yet but you do deserve him. He can do all of this without you asking, you are used to having to beg for things you want.

Needed new stuff for school beg your parents. When they say no, beg your job for more pay for just that week. First boyfriend, beg him to even notice you when it didn’t come to sex. You had to beg friends to stay in your life even after they hurt you. The last person to care about you in this way has been gone for years. Now a memory you play back to make yourself feel loved. But here he is, the playboy of Kildare, giving you that same love. 

As you make your way to his room you promise yourself one thing. You won’t give up on him, he deserves happiness just as much as you do.

The rest of the week goes similar to that day. You and Rafe would sneak off to spend time with each other. Sharing secret kisses away from prying eyes. Rafe knows that Ward is suspicious, he had made a comment at lunch the other day. “The two of you seem close again.” He stared blankly at his dad. “Just be safe.” It felt like some validation was thrown his way. It’s not like he was trying to hide you but sneaking around made it more fun.

Everyone already knew that whatever happened was water under the bridge, but it seems like you two didn’t get the notice. 

You giggle as Rafe kisses your neck, teasing your bikini straps with his fingers. “Rafe, come one we have to get back. People will start to look for us.” Your words do nothing to stop him. “Let me enjoy my girl. Screw everyone else.” His kisses travel up to your jaw. “Well really can’t screw them if you keep me here.” Rafe knows you are teasing but it rubs him the wrong way.

“You do realize that you’re mine right? Ain’t no way in hell someone else is touching you.” The possessiveness isn’t new but heightened. Since your talk they thought of the other with someone new terrorizes your minds. It’s a new feeling for you, wanting someone to be yours always. To feel a strong sense of anger when thinking of him with someone else. Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him into a kiss. “I do. As long as you know your mine too.”

“Only yours, baby.” He mumbles on your lips, teeth biting on the lower one to suck in his mouth. “We can go back out now. You go first gotta take care of something.” He nods down to the obvious boner in his pants.  “You know I can help you with that.” You say seductively, fingers brushing against the bulge in his swim trunks. “Let’s wait till after our date tonight, please. Trying to be a gentleman here and treat you right. Plus I don’t put out on the first date.” 

You laugh as you walk away from him.  “No, you just sleep with them before you even ask them out.” You mock him. Leaving Rafe alone to fix his little, well not so little, situation. You grab water from the kitchen before walking back out to the pool. Everyone is there chatting to one another.

A part of the “new” Rafe plan was rebonding with his sisters. Sarah of course was a little wary of the plan but saw how much he actually meant it. She was brought back to when she was little and he would sneak into her room to check for monsters. The little boy who gave her so much comfort was staring at her when he apologized, owning his mistakes and wanting to correct them. Even if she wanted to say no she couldn’t. Even with all of his wrongs he's still her brother and it seems like she’s getting him back.

Wheezie on the other hand was on board once the place was told to her. Being the youngest she doesn’t have many memories with the Rafe before their mom died. The one that was happy and not as broken. She can recall some moments where he cared deeply for her at a young age, barely even an image to see. She never really had issues with him after their mom’s death. Her and Rafe become the background as Sarah was the main event. They connected in a way that they could only understand. She was just happy that Rafe wasn’t as angry as he was before. 

The downside to this plan also meant a new beginning with the pogues, which was hard to do. It took a whole day of you and Sarag convincing everyone that it could work. Which brings you to this right here, pool day. Which is also the same day as your first date. The pogues as well as Topper and Kelce are here. Everyone agreed to be civil for the day, wanting to give Rafe this chance. You don’t know why the pogues said yes but you can’t complain, only happy that they are willing to see the good side of him after all the bad.

It’s been hours of you all getting to know each other. Playing silly games such as never have I ever. It wasn’t till the clock hit four that Rafe realized he hadn’t gotten a moment with you alone. That’s when he dragged you away when no one was looking. That was almost an hour ago, the shame of it all is eating you. Cheeks blushing red as everyone’s eye’s turn to look at you.

They just carry on with conversation, not mentioning what they all knew. You're relieved as you sit down, even more when Rafe sits besides you. His arms wrapping around your shoulder so you are leaning into him. Looking around makes you happy. Rafe has been great all day, no pogue comments or rude remarks. Your friends seem to be having a good time, joking around as if this was a normal day.

The feeling continues as you get ready for your date. Your jams in the shower only improve your mood as you shave. Extending as you pick out your dress, smile so wide your cheeks hurt. You are putting on earrings when there’s a knock on your door. “Come in.” You look in the mirror to see if there are any finishing touches needed. “Wow.” It sounds more like a breath than words. 

“You look beautiful. Maybe we should stay home instead, don’t need people seeing you like this.” He walks in the room, flowers abandoned on your dresser. “Actually nevermind, I want people to see that my girl is taken.” His hands land on your waist, arms hugging you from behind. “Your girl?Taken?” He loves when you tease him. That shit normally pisses him off, yet with you he can’t help but love it. “Yeah my girl. Always been my Sunny.”

He really hasn’t used the nickname much since you told him not to. You miss when he did. Your name doesn’t feel right coming from his lips. It sounds outrageous but it feels wrong. Even the other nicknames he gave you don’t feel the same. “I miss hearing you say that.” You lean further back to look up at him. “Calling you Sunny?” You hmm in reply. He pecks your lips, then nose, cheek, and finally ear. “I miss saying it. Glad to have my Sunny back.”

He twirls you around in his arms. Breaking away only for the two of you to leave the house. The car ride to the mysterious destination seemed to take forever, every turn just adding to the allotted time. As he drives the beach comes to view, waves crashing against the shore. The truck pulls onto a sandy road in between some trees, leading to an isolated part of the beach.

“Found this spot a couple years back. I usually come here when I want to be alone, but I thought it would be perfect for tonight.” The hand on your thigh tightens and releases the flesh. More of a way to ground himself to say that this was real, not a dream. “Why? Want to murder me where no one can see?” Your joke swayed his nerves. The nervous smile replaced with the one you’ve grown to love. “Haha, very funny. If I was going to kill you I would have done it that day on the Druthers.”

You give him a death stare, his dead tone making it seem like he thought of this before. “What? The sea would get rid of all evidence, nice and simple.” He shrugs, putting the truck in park. “Yeah I don’t like that you’ve thought of this before. Maybe I should have shared my location while I had the chance.” He chuckles, pulling you into a kiss. “Too late.” He retorts, getting out the truck to grab the last minute things from the back.

He had set things up the night before. You and Wheezie were having a movie night and he took the time to set up the place. There were fairy lights wrapped around the bare trees, the trunks illuminated by the light. A bouquet of hydrangeas, your second favorite flowers, were in a vase by two trees. It wasn’t a big space, the truck was parked on the road so it didn’t interfere with the layout. It was the perfect amount of space to be on the sand without getting splashed by the waves.

Rafe takes a few blankets out and walks over to where the vase is. You follow picking them up to set out of the way. “Those are for you. Wanted to get you something different than roses to change things up.” He explains as he lays the blankets down. “Thank you, I love them. They are actually my second favorite.” He gives you this little smirk and a wink. “I know.” Then he’s off getting the last item from the truck bed.

How much does he know about you? It’s like he has this book where he writes everything down so he won’t forget. None the less you like how he remembers the small things. It makes you feel important to him. 

You look to see him walking over to you with a basket. Raising it up, he shows the basket off to you. The other hand was holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “You didn’t have to do all of this. We could have just stayed in or got food.” He sits down next to you, placing everything on the blankets. “I wanted to do this. Saw somewhere that your actions speak louder or some shit like that.” Even when he pretends not to care he does 

“You’re really good at this.” Rafe watches you from the side of his eye as he takes out the snacks he packed. “What are you talking about?” He moves the basket once everything is laid out, reaching for a strawberry to take a bite. He brings the strawberry to your lips.You take  nibble, the sweetness of the fruit sitting on your tongue. “The whole relationship thing.” You swallow what you had in your mouth. Rafes eyes watch as your tongue chases and remnites on your lips.

“It’s just you care. You get me my favorite flowers, snacks, it makes me feel special.” “You are special.” You smile at him. “So are you. I just need you to know that I appreciate the effort you are putting in. Especially today with the pogues, it meant a lot to me.” He’s leaning on his side as he listens to your words. Soaking in the praise, relishing in the feeling it gives him. “I meant it when I said I want to change. I know they're important to you, so that makes them important to me. Plus they aren’t that bad, I guess.”

The rest of the night was filled with small talk. Taking the time to know each other better. It was easy to get in the rhythm of sharing information, knowing the other can’t judge. He tells you about every negative thing his dad has done. How he feels useless in his life, that he doesn’t know who to be if it’s not done with anger. In return, you tell him about what it was like living with your parents. The constant pressure to be perfect and bring them money. How after your grandmother died every sense of a normal childhood was taken from you. 

Rafe listens as you divulge your inner demons. Wanting to go to your house to yell at how stupid your parents are. How they should be ashamed of treating you like some cash cow. He realizes you two aren’t so different. Both had different experiences but still the same outcome. A home that never loved you. “Have they talked to you sin-” “No. They refuse to answer all of my texts.”

You are both laying on your backs, heads turned to the other. His hand closest to you grabs yours. Pulling it to his mouth he gives it a peck,resting it back down again. “Then you don’t need them. You have me and I have you. Plus my family loves you so the family part is covered. You’ll always have us.” You tear up, emotions bubbling up in you. “You can’t promise that.”

Rafe scoots closer, hugging you to his chest. “Yes I can.” It was a promise. A way of letting you know this is the long haul for him. He’s always known that you were different by the way you were with everyone. Always been drawn to you in some way, something in him not able to get enough of you. He realized that he can’t be without you during the time you ignored him. He’ll be damned if he has to go a lifetime without your love.

You start to kiss his neck, softly biting the skin with your teeth. “It’s our first date.” Your words are mumbled. “Good observation there babe.” His eyes shut, the sensation of your lips on his skin sending shivers down his spine. “You said after our date.” You remind him. His chuckle causes vibrations on your lips.

“Couldn’t even wait till we got home, just have to have me now. Hmm?” He pulls you over him, your hips slotted with his. Using your hips, he drags you back and forth over his dick. Your clit keeps catching the seam of his pants. “Such a little slut for my dick that you want to fuck me out in the open. Fucking me in the car wasn’t enough?” You moan out. No it wasn’t enough. None of him will ever be enough for you, entranced by the mere thought of him. “Never enough.” You moan again as he leans up, his lips meeting the exposed flesh on your chest. Leaving marks over your chest so he can enjoy the look of them later. “Get up.”

Your hands fly to his shoulders pushing him back. “What?” You stare down at him, trying to see if you crossed a line somehow. “We’re doing it right this time around. The first time we have sex again isn’t going to be on a deserted part of the beach. It’s going to be in my bed or yours. I really don’t care which one.” You huff at him, your breath causing some hairs to fly around. “Well maybe I don’t care about that. Maybe I want you here, right now.” 

Rafe is about to give in, only really wanting to make you happy. Willing to let go of the plan he had of showering you properly for your first date. Then you see the look in his eyes, sort of disappointed his plans are being skewed. “Okay, okay.” You say as you get up and reach a hand out. “You better drive fast or we might have to settle for the car again.”

You meant it when he said he needs to be fast. You were down the street when your hands were gripping him through his shorts. Lips peppering kisses along his neck. Rafe was relieved when he put his truck in park. Throwing to doors open and tossing you over his shoulder as he walks into the house. “Put me down silly.” He ignores you and makes his way up the stairs to his room.

You’re grateful that everyone in the house isn’t up. It’s close to twelve so most likely they are all sleeping. Rafe kicks his door open and then shut once you are in. You let out a squeal when he discards you on his bed. “Take your dress off now.” He commands, taking his shirt and shoes off. “Yes sir.”

Taking the dress off you are left in your white lingerie on display. He lets out a whistle, placing himself on top of you on the bed. “A perfect little angel.” He kisses up your stomach, stopping at your breasts to suck on them through the cups. “If only god knew what a whore you really are.” He bites one of your nipples, a shocked yelp forcing its way out of your throat. 

“Shhh. We have to be quiet, don’t want to wake them up.” Now that he thinks of it, he should have said yes when you wanted to stay on the beach. At least he would be able to hear the way you moan for him better. He pulls the cups down, nipples pebbling due to the air. 

Your hands work his pants and boxers down, leaving him naked. Next thing to go were your panties. Really they were only pushed off to the side so his fingers can touch you. You’re soaked, his fingers coated in your juices. He swirls them around, teasing your clit before pushing a finger in. A little impatient he adds another, staring as your mouth hangs open.

“There you go, beautiful. Such a good girl.” You haven’t been touched like this since that day on the Druthers. At first you were too heartbroken to do anything. Then too caught up with making up to even think about masturbating. It’s been a while and you are so wound up you could explode. With one last pump of his fingers you do, squelching noises filling the room.

“Rafe. Oh fuck, right there.” You had no time to recover when he was pushing himself in. He couldn’t wait anymore, his dick was aching to be inside you. This is probably the worst time to be so riled up. He’s been trying to make things better with you that he neglected himself. He couldn’t even think about touching himself this whole time. But now that he’s here, feeling your walls clamp around him he knows he fucked up. 

“Fuck… oh fuck.” He encases your body, his forehead on your shoulder. His arms wrap you, bringing your body closer to his as he nails dig into your back. You match his actions, nails dragging on his back, welts rising as you go. His lips can’t stay off of you, kissing any part of you he can get. Your mind is fixated on the feeling of his hips meeting yours.

Rafe’s perfectly huge dick piercing you g-spot over and over again. The two of you are just a mess of words. None of them are even audible yet you still understand the other. “God Sunny.” His fingers get deeper in your flesh, pain increasing your pleasure. “I’m not going to last long.”

Your left hand holds Rafe’s head. “Please.” His hips pick up pace, hurdling the two of you to your ends. You try to switch your positions, wanting to send him over the edge faster. “No no. Want to see your face. Need to see my pretty girl.” His moans are mixing with yours. The only thing that can be heard in the room is skin hitting skiing and your moans. “It’s okay baby. Fill me.” That was the end of him. He moans loudly as he fills you, his release triggering yours. Slowly rocking his hips to watch you awe stocks face for longer.

Rafe lays motionless on you, the orgasim of his life taking everything out of him. Your arms hold him to you, not wanting to let him go. “Shit that was amazing.” His words tickle you, air following them as they leave to dance on your skin. “Tell me about it.”

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It’s been a month since your first date. When Rafe said slow he sure was not kidding. You would fool around when you can but really haven’t had the chance to fully sleep together. Every time you try he finds a reason why you shouldn’t. The furthest you got was when you gave him a blowjob and he ate you out. It’s been a whole month of tiptoeing around to not get caught.

Everyone knows now that you two are practically together. Ward is thankful that the issue is over and you have passed it. He can see Rafe changing, no more fights around the island. But more importantly no more drugs. Rafe quit after you gave him another chance, not fully at first but he got there. Ward was surprised not taking it seriously at first, as time went on he couldn’t deny it. Rafe actually was doing good for the first time in years.

The relationship between Rafe and his sisters had also improved. They spend time together without you now, not for long but they no longer argue. He even hung out with John B, JJ, and Pope alone. Everyone was shocked to see the boys all in one piece. You could say the only issue right now is once again what you and Rafe are.

You know you are exclusive. He had made that clear the night after your date. Saying how he won’t let anyone else get in the way. There was never a conversation about if you are boyfriend and girlfriend. No confirmation that you were fully together. It’s been eating away at you but you want to respect him taking things slow. Which was all fine until the party that happened tonight. 

Rafe was still selling with Barry even though he decided to spot doing drugs. He was going to the party to help push some coke and pills to all of the kooks. Instead of leaving you at home he asked you to go with. “Just come along. We can sit on some couch the whole night.” In truth he just didn’t want to be in a party setting alone. It’s one thing to stay away from drugs when he’s at home, at a party it’s different. 

If he was there by himself he would fall back into temptation. He can still feel the need to get high at times, missing the way it made him numb. Sometimes being sober is too much for him, having to take a few hits of a joint to calm the nerves. Weed and alcohol are the only things he allows himself, since he knows he can control those urges. He needs you there for moral support.

The party was in full swing when you reached the house. Rafe pushes through the house, hand in yours to guide you. He found a couch in the back easily and set up shop. Kook would come by asking for some coke, exchanging cash for a little baggy. Some would sit on the chairs next to the couch and take bumps right there. Others just take their goods and leave. 

Two hours into the party Rafe goes off to the bathroom leaving you alone. The only instructions he gave was to tell anyone who wants to buy to come back later. Which wasn’t a problem, then some guy walked up. “How much for a baggy?”

You look up from your phone to see your ex from highschool. “Ben?” He smiles at you. “Long time no see. Didn’t know that you started selling drugs.” He sits down next to you, leaving arms length of space. “No my… uh no I don’t sell.” You don’t know what to call Rafe. You wanted to say boyfriend but you aren’t really sure.

“Hey.” Rafe’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You smile at him but see that he isn’t looking at you. His eyes are trained on Ben. “Hey man. Looks like we got to wait, apparently this saint doesn’t sell.” Ben’s comment pisses Rafe off. “Well I hope not. She would take me out of business.” He’s trying to keep his cool, not wanting to lose his temper after working hard on it.

“Wait, you're the one selling?” Ben asks, he went off to college in a different state so he hasn’t been around much. He doesn't know a lot about Rafe after highschool or you for that matter. Rafe nods at the guy, tossing him a baggy and telling him the price. Ben says your name. “Do you know this guy?” You can’t get the words out since Rafe is answering for you. “Yeah she does. I’m her boyfriend.” 

You look at Rafe, eyes expressing how you feel. When you get happy there’s these golden specks that get brighter. He doesn’t even notice as he and Ben stare at each other. “Wow. Never expected this when we broke up.” The money he was handing over was snatched by Rafe. He wants to punch him in his stupid face. “Yeah well never thought you would cheat on me. I guess we just didn’t know each other.”

The anger Rafe is feeling intensifies. His eyes meet yours, as if you could read his emotions you shake your head. Instead of acting out he gathers the rest of the drugs laying out. Putting them away and grabbing your hand. “Come on baby. Let’s go home.” You try to protest. “Wait, don't you have to sell more?” “Nah go all I needed.” 

Rafe drags you out the house and into the truck. Driving to Tanny hill in silence. “Rafe?” He doesn’t say anything, only focusing on the road. His grip on the wheel is making his knuckles white. “Ray.” The new nickname surprises the two of you. He pulls into the drive-way and sits there. “Ray? That’s new.”

“I don’t know why I said it. Just you call me Sunny and a ray is associated with that. Thought it would be cute, but I don't know.” You feel a little self conscious now. “I like it.” He assures. The truck is silent after. You’re waiting for him to open up to you. “I got jealous.” There it is.

“I know.” He sighs. “You said you were my boyfriend.” He gives you this look. “Yeah no shit. I am.” He doesn’t get why that would be a problem. “You never asked.” Rafe looks at you before laughing. “Fuck I thought it was a given. Just assumed you knew I wanted you to be mine.” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “You’re such a dumbass. You need to ask a girl these things. I’ve been losing my mind over this.”

He gives you a kiss. “Will you be my girlfriend?” The words brush your lips. “Yeah I will.” You kiss him again. Not feeling his hand move around or his body shifting in a weird way. Pulling back something catches your eye. You glance down to see a ring. “What is that?” Rafe grabs your hand and puts the ring on your middle finger. “Got it the same day as the necklace. Was too scared to give it to you at first. This time around I won’t let it get to me. I promise I’m here for the long haul.”

The ring is beautiful, one of the nicest things you own now. Smiling at the boy in front of you, you realize how deep this really goes. Glad that you aren’t the only one who feels the same. “For the long haul.”

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #drew starkey smut #outer banks smut #rafe x you #rafe x nannyreader

[stevesjockstrap]

I Hear the Morning Calling

For Monsterfucker May better late than never

Heavily inspired by @safk-art demo!Steve art 😍

Steve/Eddie | read on ao3 | rated E | post-Vecna, demogorgon Steve, monsterfucking, blood and gore

“We’re losing. She’s not able to do it. We have to do something,” Nancy hissed next to him. Vecna had been shaking violently from his viney suspension but now he was eerily still. El’s plan seemed to be falling apart at the seams.

Steve looked around for anything he could do to save his friends. They’d already used all of the Molotov cocktails and Nancy’s shotgun shells.

Vecna’s eyes popped open and stared directly at him for a long heart stopping second before they widened and closed off again. They were running out of time.

He looked desperately around at Robin who was clutching at her bag. He would never let anything happen to them. Then he heard Dustin screaming over the walkie. Everything was going to shit.

A burning hatred ran through him, sizzling through the exhaustion and lightheadedness he’d been pushing down since being attacked by the demobats. Before he realized he’d moved, he was sprinting towards the hideous hanging figure with a roar. Ignoring the girls’ cries from behind him, he leaped higher than he’d ever done during a basketball game, catching a vine in his hand before his open mouth closed over Henry Creel’s throat.

The hot thick blood shot down his throat, gagging and choking him but he held on. Taking multiple swallows of the bitter sludge automatically, he forced his jaw harder into the spasming muscle. Spindly fingers scratched across his back and legs, trying ineffectually to tear him off. The spurting of blood into his mouth slowed and he allowed himself to suck in a breath, yanking the vine in his hand.

Coming back to himself on the floor, he didn’t think he had been out very long. He could hear Dustin again on the walkie, Robin trying to get him to slow down to try to understand his loud rapid cries.

“They! Are! Coming!” Dustin’s staticky voice echoed through the empty room.

“Who?” Steve rasped. But then he felt it. In the back of his mind, a scurrying almost slippery feeling that was getting stronger. “The bats. They’re coming for us.”

“What? Steve, what the hell is going on?” Nancy’s no nonsense tone made him try to rethink what he had said.

“I don’t know. But we gotta get out of here.”

Scrambling to sit, he was pushed back down to the ground by Nancy and then Robin.

“Settle down. If the bats are really coming, we’re better off inside.” Robin made sense, but something was telling him they needed out of this house. Out of this room.

He looked around, and saw Vecna’s body. It was essentially ripped to shreds, his head barely connected to his neck and several bones poking out in cruel angles.

“Um, yeah, there’s that question, too. But I think I’m just going to erase that from my memory,” Robin winced.

Getting out of the upside down after that was a blur. The bats circled them, screaming wildly and zooming over their heads as they ran towards the trailer park, but none of them touched the group.

Eddie was a mess. Nearly grey, almost as torn to shreds as Vecna. But Steve was able to feel a very slow pulse, so he quickly slung him over his shoulder and they somehow got everyone hoisted into the correct dimension.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

Steve’s head popped up from where it had slumped into his chest. He’d not left Eddie’s bedside once he’d been released from his own hospital bed more than a week ago. Nancy was propped against the doorway with a wry grin.

“Talk about what?” But Steve couldn’t meet her eyes.

Nancy hummed and pulled a chair over next to him.

“You can’t hide it from me, Steve. I’ve been on the receiving end of your overbearing self.”

Steve groaned, looking immediately at Eddie’s face. But just like every other day he’d spent looking at him, his eyes remained closed.

“I’m not sure I have words. Even to myself. Yet. But you’ll be one of the first ones to know, I promise,” he huffed.

“After Robin,” Nancy nodded.

Steve laughed. “Yeah, I mean, probably. And, uh, hopefully someone else is ahead of both of you in line.” He rubbed at his face, then raked a hand through his disgusting hair with a grimace.

“Go home, Steve. I’ll stay. I know your number. You need to take care of yourself before you can take care of the rest of us.”

After he showered, he flopped across his bed in just his towel and was asleep before he had another thought.

He stood above Eddie, the taste of blood in his mouth again. The bitter thick sludge that had come from Vecna. When he’d killed Vecna.

Eddie was wailing below him, fighting against him. He leaned down, catching his flailing hands with his own and felt his face split into sections, opening impossibly wide as he bit hard into Eddie’s neck.

He woke up sweating in his bed, tangled in his sheets. He ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror, feeling over his perfectly human face.

“What the fuck,” he breathed.

A quick call to the hospital confirmed that Eddie was fine. He chugged a glass of water, pacing unseeingly around his kitchen, still rubbing across his face.

For the next week, he would get these quick bursts of pain in his head, and pressure like a migraine but none of his normal tricks helped. He didn’t have a fever, actually his temperature seemed to be going down.

Finally he just pulled the curtains in his room, covered his head with a pillow because still the dimmed light felt like ice picks and went to sleep.

The shrill constant noise woke him, and at first he couldn’t place it at all, pressing his pillow over his ears more forcefully, sitting up with a curse as it echoed through his house.

“What??” He groused out into the phone.

Thankfully not reacting at all to his grumpiness, Dustin cried out, “Steve! It’s Eddie. He woke up!”

The nurses were insistent they go into Eddie’s room in small groups, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes at the huge congregation of people who were adamant about seeing their friend.

Steve, Robin and Nancy stood surrounding his tiny frame in the hospital bed, somehow this sleep looking more peaceful than the last. Steve shifted on his feet, trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the nauseousness from the hospital smell.

“Eddie?” Nancy whispered, unable to help it.

Their friend twitched, his eyes flicking open quickly before closing again. “Why’s it so bright?”

Steve chuckled, thinking the exact same thing, and went to turn the lights off in the room.

“Thanks,” Eddie grumbled. The lack of use showed in his voice. Robin held out a cup with a straw and helped him take a few deep gulps. “Fuck, can you give me the Reader’s Digest version? Did I get hit by a train? A UFO? Did I eat the mystery meat in the cafeteria?”

They all snickered, Nancy sobering first. “You don’t remember at all? What’s the last thing you can think of?”

Eddie frowned, looking down. After a few moments of thinking hard, he looked up, shocked. “Chrissy, oh god. Chrissy is… and then Patrick in the lake. Fucking hell. Okay, I’m getting pieces now. The bats- is Dustin?”

Steve interjected quickly, unable to take the look on his face, “Dustin’s fine. You saved him.”

Eddie nodded, pulling in deep breaths. Steve reached out, taking his hand and breathed his own small breath of relief when Eddie held onto it.

“Everyone else?” Eddie grimaced.

“Banged up, stitched up, but alive and well. Well, uh, except for Jason.”

“No loss there,” Robin and Eddie said at the same time, grinning sardonically at each other afterwards.

The nurse came in the room and explained the teens were not waiting very patiently in the waiting room, and they agreed to swap out.

“Going straight to hand holding, huh? King Steve and his kindergarten moves,” Robin elbowed him.

Even more weeks later, Eddie was finally released from the hospital and Steve helped him up the steps to their new and improved government issued trailer. They’d offered them a house but both Eddie and Wayne had quickly declined. They were used to the trailer and the trailer park, but they could use another bedroom.

“Home sweet trailer,” Eddie laughed as he bounced on his new bed. Steve winced, worrying about his stitches still. “Don’t give me that look, mother hen. I’m fine.”

Steve sighed and waved him off, plopping his meager bag of stuff down on top of the dresser.

“Hungry?”

Eddie grinned at him. “Always.”

“Come in Eddie, helloooo? EDDIE COME IN, over.” Dustin’s loud voice echoed around his nearly empty room. Groaning, he sat on the edge of his bed for a second while the stars cleared from his vision.

“I’m here, Dustin,” he sighed.

“You’re supposed to say over. Over.”

Rolling his eyes, he laid back down with the walkie. “I’m over this conversation, Dustin. What was the voluminous emergency?”

“OH! Have you seen Steve? No one’s been able to get a hold of him for more than a week, and we just got to his house and it’s… weird. Even for us. Over.”

Eddie frowned. He actually hadn’t seen Steve in a while, which was not like him. After Eddie had been discharged from the hospital, Steve seemed to take over his watch, volunteering to get him back and forth to all of his appointments and therapies. Standing now, nerves quickening and his stomach tightening, he looked down at the walkie.

“Weird how? Over.” Ah shit, the kid had gotten to him.

“He’s built like a creepy nest, with leaves and sticks, but, uh-“

The silence hung heavy in the dark of his room, and Eddie shivered. He pulled back his curtains to peer out the window, suddenly feeling like he was being watched.

“Spit it out, Dustin,” he grumbled.

“Alright, but you asked. There’s a lot of your stuff in the mess… like a few of your shirts a-and the vest you gave him? It’s like he’s been sleeping with them. Over.”

As his eyebrows shot up at this news, something moved in the shadows outside the window. There was a flash of reflective eyes, too far off the ground to be the stray cat that he fed. Human’s eyes don’t reflect.

“O-okay Dustin, thanks for the nightmare fuel. Get home, it’s already almost dark. I’ll let you know if I hear from him. Over and out.”

He nearly dropped the walkie when the shadow moved again, closer to his window and he got a flash of jeans and brown hair. Thinking quickly but somehow not at all, he shoved the walkie into his back pocket and rushed out the front door.

Not allowing himself to call out to him, clearly he didn’t want to be found if he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a week, he tried to sneak as quietly as possible around the side of the trailer.

A noise a few feet away had him pausing, opening his eyes wider to try to see in the darkness towards the woods. It was eerily quiet, usually the trailer park was full of noise, even at night, car doors and people laughing and chatting, dogs and birds going on and on. All Eddie could hear now was his own heart beating in his ears.

His eyes jumped to follow the next quick movement, just inside the edge of the woods. Another flash of that perfect hair. Like Steve was beckoning him to follow. And Eddie was dumb enough to be lead.

Inside the tree line, Eddie couldn’t see much. But he could follow the small noises and what was surely intentionally snapped twigs under Steve’s feet.

Panting, he stopped to lean against a tree, “Fuck, where are we going, man?” He was getting irritated. Steve would know that he’d graduated from PT but he still couldn’t be walking miles through the woods.

There was a small huff that sounded close, almost sarcastic. Very like Steve. Then a cold hand was pushing his hair away from his face, resting on his sweaty forehead.

A stream of moonlight or a stray streetlight fell across the face in front of him, and he almost screamed. Steve’s eyes piercing into his own and that attractive mess of hair on his head compensated well for the rest of it, the petaled mouth and rows of teeth that appeared as he was apparently breathing in Eddie’s scent.

“Steve? Wh-what happened?” Eddie was proud of himself for not bolting away, seeming frozen to the spot at Steve continued breathing him in, the clawed hands running through his hair and grasping his hip.

One shoulder was raised and lowered, like the world’s most apathetic shrug. As if his newly transformed self wasn’t even worth discussing. But the way Steve was looking at him and touching him was sending warm buzzing down his spine, tightening his belly. And his own jeans.

Steve seemed to figure this out quickly as well. Could he smell it? Eddie groaned and then gasped when his giant wet mouth descended onto his neck, grazing those dangerously wicked teeth down his skin.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed. “Why is that so hot? I should be like running for my life. Ah!” His hips bucked forward as sharp claws ran down his chest, instantly shredding his already hole filled shirt. He could only pant and throw his head back against the tree as the assault continued down his front, then as he felt the cold hands approach his jeans he gasped out, “Hey, okay, let me do that, huh? My favorite jeans, you know.”

The salacious look he received in response could only be from one Steve Harrington. He almost laughed but instead moaned as the gaze went down to follow his hands, the shaking hands fighting against the button and zipper of his jeans. Maybe he should have let him rip them to shreds.

An inhuman growl left Steve when the jeans and his plaid boxers were kicked off his bare feet. Unable to help himself, Eddie wrapped a hand around his dripping cock as he watched the terrifying mouth open, saliva running off the petals and rows of teeth.

“God I am a freak, after all,” Eddie chuckled. “I’d apparently feed my dick to a wood chipper if it was attached to Steve Harrington.”

A vaguely appreciative noise rumbled out of the mouth in question, and Eddie couldn’t believe this was real as the monster in front of him lowered slowly to his knees, looking up under his still gorgeous eyelashes to peer at his hard length.

“If you kill me, can you make sure no one finds my body? I don’t want Uncle Wayne thinking I got myself into even weirder shit than usual.”

His train of thought quickly evaporated as a rough tongue came to slide up the underside of his cock. Trying his best to hold completely still, wary of all the teeth, he just watched as Steve wriggled closer.

“Don’t judge me if I come or pass out instantly please. I, um, I’m not the most experienced. And this is, well, this is a whole lot to take in.” He knew he was rambling, filling the uncomfortable silence between them and the woods.

The eyes staring up at him seemed unbearably patient and forgiving, however.

“How much of you is in there,” he wondered aloud.

Steve blinked at him and what could’ve been a smirk passed over his features before his cock was enveloped by the petaled mouth. His own mouth flew open, ready to scream at the pain he expected. But he only gasped as he realized the teeth were only just grazing him, creating an almost pleasant scratching tingly feeling, and the tongue was able to keep sliding under and around the head.

“Oh my god, Steve,” Eddie panted, unaware as his hands slid into the feathery locks. “Oh, oh sorry!” Yanking them away, he received the first actually scary noise and look.

The mouth left him and an indignant huff resounded from it. “Want it,” Steve growled.

Eddie nodded quickly, holding back the laugh at the petulant frown and statement. “You got it, Stevie. Just please keep going.”

With another small grumble, Steve waited for the shaking hands to return back to his hair before he allowed his mouth to wrap around his cock again.

He was glad the tree was there to hold him up, since it seemed Steve was going to give everything he had to this supernatural blowjob. Eddie didn’t direct him with his hands so much as just hold on for dear life, while moaning and gasping along.

“Please, gunna-“ Eddie almost screamed as the mouth was instantly pulled back.

“Not yet,” Steve rasped. “Turn around.”

Clawed hands assisted him pivoting to push his forearms against the rough tree, widening his stance to allow the wicked mouth behind him to — “Holy mother of Zeus!”

The rough tongue circled his hole as a wet hand wrapped around his cock, the other pulling at his thigh to encourage him to rut back and forth. He whimpered, unable to collect enough brain cells to form a sentence now.

“P- oh, please. Steve!” Everything stopped and a soft questioning noise came from behind him. “Can I come on your cock instead? Or, uh, next time? Sorry, didn’t mean to, uh-“

What could only be described as a giggle left the terrifying mouth behind him, and Eddie’s hand was pulled from the tree and licked.

“Yours.”

The hand was then pulled back towards his own hole and he tried to nod his understanding. He did not want the claws inside of him either, thank you.

“Jesus Criminy,” Eddie whispered as Steve used his own fingers to push into him, licking around the digits to encourage him to open up. The feeling of the rough clawed hands around his wrist as he fucked his own hand into himself was almost too much. Finally when he thought his brain was going to leak out of his ears, his hand was pulled back and released.

Then a blunt object was pushing against him and he saw stars. “Slow, oh my god, a little slower, baby.”

The name didn’t seem to phase him at all, but he got a soft noise and the cold hands held onto his hips as he pressed forward.

“Want it hard, but just- ah, once it’s in. God you’re big. Is that, like, a monster thing? Or just you?”

The cocky laugh he received didn’t exactly answer the question, but then he was pressing further in and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He wrapped his own sweaty hand around his leaking cock, whining and crying out as Steve fucked him hard yet holding him so gently with his clawed hands. As he got closer to coming, he leaned his head back onto Steve’s shoulder. He came spectacularly just as he bit into his neck.

When he could breathe and see again, jumping into his jeans, he found the walkie still shoved into his pocket. With a simpering look at demo!Steve sitting naked against their well-used tree, he pushed down the button.

“Hey, uh, Henderson. I f-found Steve. But, well, he’s a lot different now. Over.”

Title from Waiting in the Garden - Noon Shift

#stmonstermay #demo!steve #demogorgon Steve Harrington #steddie #stranger things smut #mine #monsterfucking #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic

[pocket-watcher]

Okay, but resistance is HUGE for me. Let the subject know all the hypnosis tricks and do everything in their power to not fall for them, only to slip and fall... Also, an underrated hypnosis thing is just using your voice to put them under (maybe eyes, but normal eyes). If you could at all make a story like that I would deeply appreciate it :)

We 👏 love 👏 resistance 👏 play👏

After the last story request I have a feeling we’re eating good tonight haha. Here’s something just for you though, anon :)

Yasmin eyed Rob eagerly.

“So, what is this again?” He asked, slightly disinterested.

Yasmin beamed. “I told you, it’s supposed to be a test on how much you can concentrate! Like those videos on TikTok that show you how long 30 seconds really is.”

Rob scoffed. He hated those videos, but he’d be damned if he didn’t love a challenge.

“Okay, whatever, so what do I do?”

“Just keep your eyes on mine and listen to me.”

“Easy.” He laughed.

“Breathe in and out slowly. Try and keep in time with my breathing.”

Rob slowed his breathing down to match Yasmin’s. He stared into her hazel eyes, resisting the urge to check his phone, or look around. He just stared.

How long had it been. A minute? Two minutes? He didn’t know.

“Just breathing slowly. Each breath relaxing you more. In with relaxation, out with stress. In and out. Just in and out…”

Rob did have to admit this was pretty relaxing.

“Feel yourself slipping away, your thoughts drifting by… just listening to my words and acting upon them…”

That ending was strange, right?

“Aha, what is this, some of that hypnosis crap?” He laughed, turning his head away from Yasmin.

Before he could turn, her hand was on his chins tilting his face down to meet hers.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

Rob blushed.

“H-hey, there’s no need to get all serious! I was joking. It’s not like you’re actually trying to…”

He searched her eyes for assurance.

“Y-you,” he started. “You’re trying to hypnotise me?!”

“There is no fear. No tension just my eyes. Sink down, down, down…”

“Yasmin, what the hell! I’m not going to just sit here and let you fuck with my mind!”

“Aren’t you?” She smiled.

Her eyes were no longer inviting. They were cold, calculating. And yet, Rob couldn’t look away.

“Get out of my head.” He said sternly.

“Why would you want that? Don’t you feel it? That warm pulling. That deep sensation within you telling you to give in?” She cocked her head to one side. Rob felt his own head moving to mirror her.

He grabbed the sides of his face and forced himself upright.

“As if I’d ever give in to someone trying to - to puppet me. L-like a robot.”

“Okay then. Would you like to get up and leave? You don’t seem to be doing so.”

His legs felt like lead. Rob probably couldn’t stand right now if he wanted to.

Damn it, he thought. I can fight it! I can. I just need to -

“Focus. On my voice. On my words. It would be so much easier to stop thinking and simply let me think for you.”

Rob’s eyes narrowed. Or maybe they were too heavy to keep open. Tumbling deeper. His mind slowed to a halt.

“You can’t… I won’t let you…”

“But you already have. It’s already done. You’re under my spell. Maybe you haven’t realised it yet. So let me show you.” She raised a hand.

“Raise you arm for me.”

Rob’s body reacted immediately. As hastily as he could his other arm pulled it downwards, restraining it.

“You’re adorable. How long will you keep fighting me? I’ve already won.”

“You.. you haven’t.”

“Go on, say it for me.” She purred.

“You’ve… you’ve…”

The last part of resistance left his body.

“You’ve already won…”

#I hope you enjoy this one! #let me know what you think #hypnok1nk #hypnosis #mind control #brainwashing #hypnotized #mindfuck #watcher answers #watcher writes #watcher’s stories

[stargazedwinchester]

Protect | Sam

A small one to get me back into writing, will be doing one for Dean also! <3

Summary: You attempt to comfort Sam from his most recent break up.

Prompt: "If she threatens you in any way you tell me, okay?" @promptsbytaurie

If anyone is interested, I have a taglist here! So if you want to be notified any time I post, pls send in a form so I can update it! Been away for a little bit so I’m gonna update it soon if anyone else has applied their interest :)

(Guys pls let me do a part 2 to this pls pls I beg)

Taglist: @girlsforpjm @rowenalovee @amythedoctor

Word count: 1,069

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

The ambience in the bunker is quieter than usual. Usually there’s some weird genre of music playing loud enough so you can hear from 4 rooms away or someone furiously tapping away on a keyboard.

Walking down toward the lobby, it’s dead quiet. Assuming no one’s home, you take a gander at the books on the bookshelves, multiple books about monster lore and latin history, demonic possession and even some without a name. They’re worn down from the use they got from when the Men of Letters were around. Without letting either of the Winchesters know about it, you managed to sneak your own normal book collection in there. What they don’t know can’t hurt them, right? Sam especially would go nuts.

Picking out a light blue book with an intricate flower design running around it, the bolder, darker letters stand out in contrast. You scan the pages before taking a seat in the armchair in the corner of the library. The floor lamp next to you is dim, setting the mood perfectly for a quick comforting read.

A cough breaks you out of your gaze, unknowing that anyone was even inside. You peer round the corner and notice a huge man with long, unruly hair. His head sits in the palm of his hand, his long legs spread out underneath the table.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper to yourself and make yourself known. “Sam?”

He grumbles, barely turning his body around to acknowledge you. “Yeah?” He clears his throat, his voice croaky and weak. You pad your way over to him and stand above him, examining the empty whiskey bottle and a glass that has remnants. His personal phone is left unlocked, a few texts sent to someone but haven’t gone through. You skim read.

7:04AM

Can we please talk?

8:15AM

Please message me, IDK what I did wrong

17:16PM

Sam, leave me alone. I’m done talking with

you. I will block your number

18:08PM

Sorry

MSG NOT SENT. TRY AGAIN

“How are you feeling?” You question, speaking carefully as he has obviously had a few drinks. You pull out a chair and sit beside him, his head remaining in his hands. You stare at him intently, hoping for a good answer. He takes a deep breath and sighs shakily. He rubs his face and he glances at you quickly. His eyes dark, and the tip of his nose crimson. He wipes his nose and takes another swig, too quick for you to even stop him. “What do you think?” He huffs, trying to show a smile but failing. You look down at the floor, unsure of what to say. He reaches over and locks his phone, then rubs his eyes with his fingers. “I don’t know what to do,” He starts, his voice wobbling. You reach for the nape of his neck and gently caress his hair, “What did I do wrong?” He starts, tears forming in his eyes as he looks at you once more, then breaking contact. “It’s okay, Sammy. Let it out.” You say, stroking his hair as he sits back, looking up at the ceiling.

“I look so weak,” He laughs, trying to collect himself. You sigh quietly. “You’re not. If it hurts you, it hurts you. It’s normal to be sad.” You say, trying to make him feel at least a little bit better. He reaches for his glass again and you place your palm over the top of it. “I think you’ve had enough of this as well,” You slide the glass across the table away from Sam. “Listen. Things like this come and go, you’re more than capable to find someone way better than her. I understand it hurts right now but in a couple of weeks time you’ll feel so much better for relying on yourself and the people that love you than the people that don’t. You’re going to be fine, Sam. Trust me.” You give the speech like your life depends on it, but seeing your close friend so heartbroken made you feel like it’s your duty to ensure he hears exactly what he needs to hear. He looks at you with shining eyes, the red in them makes the hazel pop more than usual. His nose still red and cheeks flushed, his usually neat hair is tussled. “I just loved her so much,” He sighs, straightening himself out. “But she wasn’t for me. We were so different.” He explains, his eyes scanning your face. “How so?” You ask, trying not to intrude.

“Well, I’d want to go places with her to eat, drink, whatever and she’d hate it. She’d never want to spend time with me or show me off. I guess she just wanted to use me, I think that’s the thing that hurts the most,” He admits, shedding new light on his now past relationship with this woman… something that felt like rage and sadness for him built up inside of your chest, and he carries on. “When things wouldn’t go her way, she’d get angry with me. So angry,” He pauses, “She’d threaten things but never actually go through with it, thankfully. I could never say anything because I was scared of her reaction or if she’d leave me for standing up for myself.” He finishes, a tear falling down his cheek and nothing stops you from wiping it away. Keeping your hand gently on his face, you stare into his eyes as he does yours.

“If she threatens you in any way you tell me, okay?” You say, keeping your tone calm and collected, but Sam smirks at the fire that glows within yourself, a passion for protecting the ones you love, or maybe it’s more than that.

“Okay. I will.” He smiles for the first time since this whole interaction started. You slowly start to stand up, shuffling yourself out of the chair. You remove your hand from Sams’ face, but then he unexpectedly takes your hand as you try to turn away, pulling you back. You look at him with concern, and his helpless gaze stares up at you. “Thank you, Y/N.” He says, pursing his lips. “Honestly, it’s what I needed. So, thank you.”

“I’d do anything for you, Winchester.” You say, quickly grooming his hair so its somewhat neater. Glancing into his eyes one last time, he shows you a fragile smile.

A delicate smile is still a smile.

#supernatural #supernatural imagines #spn #spn imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader

[zukkaoru]

scurries in here “i don’t want you worrying over me” with platonic or romantic kunisano?

written to be platonic but can be read as pre-relationship if you so desire. tw for referenced suicide

“I don’t want you worrying over me,” Yosano whispers. Her voice is hardly audible, and her shoulders are still hunched as she stares down at her hands.

Kunikida stops in his tracks. “I’m not,” he says haltingly.

It’s a lie. He’s sure Yosano can tell.

“I can handle myself. I’ve been doing this longer than you have.”

Kunikida nods. “I know.” That much is true, at least. He hasn’t been with the Agency long, but in his few months here, he has never once seen Yosano falter. She has stared down both injuries and corpses that even Kunikida had to look away from. She is far from weak.

He doesn’t know why this case affected her so deeply. He doesn’t think it’s his place to ask.

“I didn’t realize…” her voice trails off. Kunikida thinks of the scene of the crime, of the man hanging from the ceiling with a noose around his throat, flesh pale and cold. And he thinks of the way Yosano froze as soon as they crossed the threshold.

“You are a very skilled detective and doctor,” Kunikida says carefully, “but that does not make you invincible. And I worry for you only because I worry for the wellbeing of all…close acquaintances.”

Yosano looks up at him. She offers him a weak smile. “You can just say ‘friends,’ you know.”

Kunikida pushes his glasses up. “I didn’t want to assume…”

“The Agency is a family,” Yosano cuts in. She takes a shaky breath. “Now that you’re here, you’re a part of that. Whether you like it or not. So worry for me like I’m family, but don’t worry that I can’t deal with tough cases. Because I can. This one just…hit close to home.”

“I understand,” Kunikida replies gently. There are things he, too, has difficulty dealing with because they dredge up unpleasant memories. Everyone has ghosts, but those ghosts do not have to be synonymous with weakness.

Yosano’s most certainly are not.

#kunikida & yosano underrated dynamic fr i love them #kunikida doppo #yosano akiko #bsd #grace's writing tag #anon asks

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Growth Can Suck

Summary: No One Knows AU, Valerie and Danny have an important talk.

...

Valerie feels a lot better now that Danny’s actually told her what’s going on.  She doesn’t want to push him, but keeping it in was clearly getting to be too much, and now she actually knows that talking about Phantom with him isn’t a good idea, and she knows to stop.

And she wasn’t kidding about reevaluating her stance on Phantom.  She’s been angrier at him than any other ghost for a long time, and that might not be fair.  She gets to school a little early the next day to do some research in the library, and according to the news reports she finds, Phantom is responsible for less injuries and less property damage than any other ghost.  There are plenty of trustworthy sources talking about times he’s saved people, too.  She does need to do some rethinking of things, it would seem.

But she’s going to leave Danny out of it.  He doesn’t need more of that from her, and he’s asked her not to.

And he does seem a little bit better in the following days.  He smiles more, even if they’re smaller.  And he seems less tense than he had been lately.  (Valerie still can’t believe he thought she wouldn’t notice.)

Friday morning, however, he’s tense again.  When she picks him up to fly them both to school he’s quiet, and she can tell from the look on his face that he’s thinking about something.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks as they land a little ways away from the school.  “You’re quiet today.”

Danny looks at her, and instead of answering her question, says, “Can we leave school for lunch?  I need to talk to you about something important.”

Valerie nods.  “Sure,” she says.  “Meet me out here when lunch starts?”

Danny smiles just a little and nods in agreement.

Valerie tries to spend the rest of the morning feeling good about the fact that he wants to talk to her instead of keeping it in, but he looked nervous, and she couldn’t tell what was bothering him this time.

She does manage to put her mind off of it for a bit, however, when she’s approached out of nowhere by Sam and Tucker in between one of her classes.

“Hey Valerie,” Sam says, pushing herself up in Valerie’s face.  “Can we talk to you for a second?”

Valerie glances between Sam, who is clearly the one who had this idea, and Tucker, who’s staring at the ground.

Valerie gives it a moment of consideration, glances between them both one more time, and says, “No.”  Then she closes her locker and starts down the hallway.

“Wh- hey!” Sam calls after her.  “It’s important!”

“I know all about what you consider important,” Valerie says, turning around and walking just closely enough so that no one else in the hallway has to hear.  “And I’m not in the mood to talk about it today.  See you around.  Or not.”

And with that, she turns and walks away, and this time ignores Sam calling after her.

What could they possibly have to talk to her about, anyway?  Have they just finally noticed Danny doesn’t want to spend time with them anymore, and they think she’s the reason why?

Well, either way, Valerie’s not giving them the time of day.  They don’t have any chance of good faith with her anymore.

Lunch seems to take forever to get there, especially since she knows something’s going to happen during it, but it arrives eventually.  She heads out to their meeting spot, not finding it nearly as difficult to dodge all the teachers as it would have been before she started ghost hunting.  Danny’s already waiting there when she arrives.

“Hey, she says, pulling out her suit.  “You ready?”

Danny pulls out his bandana and nods.

They end up on top of a building, one far enough away from downtown that they won’t be noticed for sitting there, but close enough to the school that they can get back in time.

As soon as they get there, Danny hops off the board and starts pacing back and forth on the roof, instantly banishing any doubt about whether or not he’s nervous about this.

Valerie puts her board away and doesn’t say anything, opting to stand there.  She trusts he’ll tell her eventually, he just looks like he needs some time to psyche himself up first.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and turns to face her.  “Okay,” he says, “so.”

“So?” Valerie says.

“I need to tell you something really important.”

“At this point I got that.”

Danny takes a deep breath, and then sits down, right in the middle of the roof.  Valerie raises an eyebrow, but does the same, sitting across from him.

Danny grabs the straps of his backpack and clenches his fists until the knuckles turn white.  “So I’ve kinda been lying to you,” he says.

Valerie nods.  “Okay,” she says, trying not to attach a judgment to that yet.

“I didn’t want to tell you this because… well, the reason will be obvious.  I mean at first, I didn’t want to tell you because I knew there’d be bad blood, even though I didn’t know the other stuff yet.  And then once I found that out, it was kinda… well, that’s the obvious part.”

“Danny?” Valerie says.  “You know you’re not making any sense, right?”

“I know, I know.  Okay, just— there’s no easy way to put this.  I’m Phantom.”

He looks at her like he expects a huge reaction.  Valerie blinks.

“Danny, that’s not very funny,” she says, not sure what else to say.

“Trust me, I know.”

“Then why are you saying it?”

“Because it’s true,” Danny says, squeezing his backpack straps tighter.

“What are you— that’s not possible, Danny,” Valerie says, even though there’s a pinch of something in her chest that’s starting to react now.

Danny bites his lip, and takes his bag off and sets it down.  Then, before Valerie can ask what he’s doing, a sudden white ring appears around his waist, and travels up to his head, until—

Valerie pushes herself back in a scramble, trying to make the person in front of her— ghost in front of her— Danny in front of her— process.

“You,” she says weakly.  She has a slightly hysterical moment when she almost goes for her ghost weapons, but the look of anxiety on Phantom’s face stops her in her tracks.

The same white ring appears around Phantom’s waist, and after a second, he’s gone, and Danny’s standing there again.

“I kind of accidentally opened my parents’ portal on top of myself,” he says.  “And it… killed me.  Sort of.”

Valerie presses a hand over her mouth.  “I think I’m gonna be sick,” she whispers.

“Please don’t do that,” Danny says.  “It’s okay.”

Valerie stares at him.  “Well obviously it’s not okay, Danny,” she says, slightly hysterical again.

Danny winces.  “Yeah, it’s really not,” he mutters.

Valerie presses a hand to her forehead and tries to take a deep breath.  She can’t think of a single thing right now that could have worse implications than Danny is Phantom.

And then Danny says, “I just, I decided I wanted to tell you after we left the protest the other day.”

Valerie looks up at him, eyes wide.  “The— holy shit, Danny, why were you there?”

Danny looks down at his feet.  “I told you,” he says, “I was helping Sam out.”

Yeah, Valerie is definitely going to be sick.

“You were right,” Danny continues quietly.  “I wasn’t being fair to you by keeping everything from you.  And, I know this isn’t what you meant, but it’s still true.”

“You weren’t being fair to me?” Valerie asks.

Danny nods, and looks up at her.  “Yeah,” he says.  “I can’t be mad at you for hunting me when you didn’t know.”

“Yes you can!”

“…Yeah, okay, I can,” Danny admits.  “But I’m not.”

Valerie shakes her head in astonishment.  “Why?”

“Well, I really did need to tell you, for one,” Danny says, looking away.  “That’s part of it.  And I think the other part of it… I really need to stop letting people hurt me.  Because I do.  Let them.”

He takes a deep breath, and turns to face Valerie again.  “I’m sorry if I’m piling on,” he says.  “But I think we need to break up.”

And Valerie does feel a little faint, learning so many awful things all at once.  But she can’t be mad at him for wanting to get away from her.

God, she really can’t.

“I know ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ is like, a thing people say to be shitty,” Danny continues.  “But I really do mean it.  I need to learn how to be Phantom without being surrounded by people who hate me.  And that’s… I need to do that.”

Valerie nods.  “Okay,” she whispers.

“Please don’t beat yourself up over this,” Danny says.  “Some of it is on me.”

“Not all of it,” Valerie says.  “Not most of it.”

Danny shrugs.  “Agree to disagree, then.  But I’ll be okay.  And I want to figure something out with you eventually.  I… want you in my life, in some way.”  He looks down, his cheeks turning a little pink.  “I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too,” Valerie whispers through the guilt swirling around in her chest.

Danny smiles up at her, not an ounce of anger in it, which she doesn’t understand.

“Hey,” he says.  “I really do want to thank you.  Being with you… it was really, really good.  For the most part.”

Valerie laughs a little, still slightly hysteric.  “Yeah.”

Danny reaches out a hand to her, and Valerie takes it.  Danny pulls them both to their feet, and gives her one last sad smile.  Then he leans forward and kisses her cheek.

“I’ll be seeing you,” he says.  “Really.”

Then he turns, transforms into the ghost Valerie’s been hunting for months, and flies away.

…

Valerie’s dad is the first one who notices something is wrong, that night while eating dinner.

“Valerie,” he says, pausing Scalpels and Secrets.  “What’s wrong?  You’ve barely said a word to me all night, and you haven’t yelled at Stacy once.”

“It’s nothing, Dad,” Valerie says.  “I… it’s nothing.”

“Valerie, I know you’re not trying to lie to me right now.  Especially because you’re doing such a terrible job of it.”

Valerie laughs a little, and goes quiet again.  Dad doesn’t start the show again, though, meaning he’s waiting for her to say something.

“Danny and I broke up,” Valerie ends up on.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dad says.  He sets his food aside.  “Come here.”

Valerie sets her own food aside and all but throws herself into her father’s arms.  Her dad pulls her close and rubs circles on her back.

“I’m so sorry, Valerie,” he says.

“No, Dad, I— you don’t understand,” Valerie says.  She pulls back and wipes at her eyes.  “I didn’t— I hurt him.  I hurt him so bad.”

“Sometimes that happens, sweetheart,” Dad says.  “It’s part of growing up.  You make mistakes, and you learn from them.”

“No, Dad,” Valerie says, pushing herself back to standing, and starts pacing across the room.  “You don’t understand.  He— I didn’t— I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“I would be surprised if you did, Valerie,” Dad says.  “Most good people don’t want to hurt other people.”

“I’m not that,” Valerie says.  “I’m not a good person.”

“Valerie, don’t be silly.”

“I’m not,” Valerie insists.  “You don’t understand, you don’t understand what I did, I—” she stops, and sits down in the middle of the living room floor.

“Valerie,” Dad says gently.  “I’m gonna tell you something that really sucks, okay?”

Valerie blinks tearfully up at him.

“Sometimes, when you’re learning and growing, you hurt people.  And sometimes it’s bad.  It doesn’t mean you meant to, and it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.  What’s important is how you react after you realize you’ve hurt someone.”

Valerie wipes her eyes and sniffs.

After Danny had messed up, he’d befriended her and spent time with her and, eventually, told her everything, knowing it might go catastrophically badly.

Danny had broken up with her and asked for space, so befriending him again probably isn’t an option— at least, not yet.  And he already knows all of her secrets.

Valerie raises her gaze and finds her dad smiling gently down at her.

“I promise you, sweetheart,” he says.  “You’re not a bad person.  You’re growing up.”

Valerie wipes her eyes again.  “Dad,” she says.  “I… I need to tell you something.  About the Red Huntress.”

…

At the end of it all, her dad is sitting in their recliner, looking like she’s taken ten years off his life.

“Alright,” he says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.  “I’ll admit, I’m not thrilled to hear most of that.”

Valerie doesn’t say anything, knowing he’s not done.

“I don’t like knowing that you’ve been putting yourself in danger on purpose and not telling me,” he continues.  “And I especially don’t like knowing that you’re spending time with this Vlad person.  It doesn’t sound like he cares that you’re putting yourself in danger all the time.”

“I don’t know that he does,” Valerie mutters.  “I think I’m done with him.”

“Good,” Dad says.  “He doesn’t sound like a good person to be around.”

Valerie nods.  She’s seen enough evidence of that at this point.  She wonders, for the first time, how Thing 1 and Thing 2 got involved with him.  Maybe she should try talking to them.

“But,” Dad says, and Valerie looks up at him again.

“I’m proud of how you’ve grown,” he says with a smile.  “You’ve recognized your mistakes and you want to change them.  And I’m so proud of how you’ve been trying to help and protect people.  Every parent wants their child to be a good person like that.  I’ll admit I’d prefer if you did it back on the ground—”

Valerie laughs a little.

“But I like your instincts, and I love where your heart is.  I love you very much, Valerie.”

Valerie blinks a couple times, and stands up to wrap her arms around her dad.  “I love you too, Dad,” she says.

They both stay there for a minute, and then Dad pulls back.

“Will you give me some time to adjust to this?” he asks.  “And let me help you how I can?”

Valerie nods.

“Okay.  Then I won’t take away your ghost weapons.  If you really mean it about telling Vlad you’re done and taking a break.”

“I do,” Valerie says.  “I need to take some time to think about things.  And— I think I’m leaving things in good hands, with Phantom.”

Though the idea of leaving Danny to deal with everything alone isn’t one she likes.  She’ll give him a week off when she comes back to make up for it.

“I think you are too,” Dad says.  “If everything you’ve said about him is right.”

He has a look in his eyes, one that says he’s probably figured out the one part she didn’t tell him— Danny didn’t give her permission, after all.  And since he still hasn’t, she replies with, “It is.”

And it’s true.  She trusts Danny, after all.

“Alright,” Dad says with a nod.  “Well— okay then.”

Valerie laughs a little.  “You okay there?”

“I’m definitely going to need a bit to get used to this,” Dad says, and Valerie laughs again.

“Thanks for not freaking out too much though,” she says.

“Hey, it could just be a delayed reaction, we’ll see how it goes.”

Valerie grins at him.  “Well, then how about we watch some TV as a stress reliever,” she says.  “And can we start it over?  I want to yell at Stacy with proper context.”

“You got it, sweetheart,” Dad says with a smile.  And, after he rewinds the episode, he climbs out of the chair and sits down on the floor next to Valerie and wraps an arm around her shoulders to give her a squeeze.  Valerie hugs him back, and they watch the episode while hugging each other.

#danny phantom #valerie gray #danny fenton #damon gray #gray ghost #no one knows au #my fic

[augustinewrites]

your apartment fills with the mouthwatering scents of buckwheat and dashi as you begin to unpack the takeout that's just been delivered. but even with your stomach already growling, you pause, confused.

“kento?” you call to where he’s is leaning against the counter.

“yes, love?”

you count the boxes again, frowning. “why did you order three? is one for your other girlfriend?”

“of course not,” he replies, unfazed by your teasing accusation as he continues to scroll through his tablet. “she doesn't like soba.”

you throw a napkin in his direction when your see the small smirk curling on his lips, shutting off his tablet to look over at you.

you wait, watching him expectantly.

"it's…for yuuji.”

“ah,” you realize, unable to keep from smiling. “your protégé.”

“he’s more like my intern,” he corrects, taking two plates from the cabinet.

you grab a third, following him to the dining table to help him set up. “you fired your last intern because you didn’t like how he organized your files. yet this one is sukuna’s vessel, and you’re bringing him soba.”

nanami pulls out your chair, kissing the top of your head before settling in his own seat. "you don't approve."

"it's not about that. if you say he's not dangerous, of course i believe you.”

he looks at you for a moment, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he figures out what to say.

“i just…don’t want him to feel so alone,” he says softly. “you heard about what happened at the detention center. gojo’s trying to hide him from the higher-ups right now, but we don’t know how long that’ll last. he’s just a kid, and gojo’s has a lot going on. so i— i want to look out for him.”

he glances over at the takeout bag, where the third box is sitting. “i may not be able to protect him like gojo can, but i can at least make sure he’s eating.”

you know he’s been exhausted lately. you can see it in the lines on his face and the slight sag of his shoulders when he trudges home at the end of the day.

yet he still finds time to care for a student that’s not his own.

and oh, if that did not make your heart skip a beat, knowing you were loved by a man capable of such care. you can’t help but watch him, almost unable to wrap your head around how lucky you are.

“you’re staring, dear.”

you sigh loudly, rising from your seat to wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek. “i think my heart might burst if i find another reason to love you more than i already do.”

he takes your hand, pressing his lips to your engagement ring.

“you love me plenty already. which is why you’ve already set a third plate out to invite yuuji to eat with us, correct?”

_____

“and then nanamin charged in and chopped it up just like this—”

nanami watches you watch yuuji swing a single chopstick menacingly as he recounts their last mission.

“he just charged in, hm?” you ask calmly. “yuuji, you’ll tell me if my fiancé is being reckless, won’t you?”

“yes ma’am!”

the blond sits up, clearing his throat. “surely that’s not necessary.”

“he’s so stubborn, isn’t he?” you ask the boy sitting across from you, even rolling your eyes.

“sure is! he’s pretty bossy too.”

nanami’s scoffs as if he’s annoyed, but secretly…secretly he couldn’t be more pleased.

he’s always wanted to be a lot of things in his life. a good sorcerer, a good employee. a good man.

but all of those things he thought he needed to be to live a full life are irrelevant.

because nothing is more fufilling than being needed and being loved.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami x you

[kissitbttr]

miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude

-

“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”

miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.

does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.

“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.

the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,

he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,

God, you’re such a perfection.

“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”

Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.

“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,

rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,

“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”

he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips

you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.

“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,

“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,

your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”

he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.

his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”

“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,

giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,

Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”

“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”

he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”

“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.

“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.

turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”

his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,

“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing

and they say romance is dead.

-

cake testing with miggy!

#miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.

MASTERLIST | Next ->

“I don’t like this.” 

“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.” 

He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?” 

“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.” 

That doesn’t make him feel any better.

He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago. 

He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink. 

He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her. 

“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting. 

As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care. 

He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long. 

His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic. 

Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not. 

He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack. 

Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week. 

You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head. 

You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath. 

“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-” 

“Classified?” You finish for her. 

Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...” 

The less there is to make you a target. 

You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time. 

What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.” 

You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal. 

That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military. 

That, and the excuse for violence. 

Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented. 

In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you. 

“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together. 

“Tired.” You run a hand across your face. 

“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.” 

You look nervous. 

He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly. 

This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega. 

His omega. 

As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy. 

“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand. 

He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly. 

He doesn’t even want to think about that. 

Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy. 

“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand. 

You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed. 

“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.” 

You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side. 

He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents. 

“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say.

Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit. 

Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about. 

“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?” 

Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.” 

Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went. 

“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.” 

“What sort of hesitations?” He asks. 

“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.” 

Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right. 

Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.” 

“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega. 

“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”

“That could be dangerous.” Price says. 

“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.” 

Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.

“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” 

He hasn’t failed her yet. 

Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked. 

The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.

You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags. 

Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment. 

You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent. 

You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk. 

One more to go. 

You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk. 

This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity. 

He’s going to be a problem. 

You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible. 

Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane. 

“Coming, Si?” 

Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared. 

You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute. 

Nothing that could dampen your natural scent. 

You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack? 

“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door. 

Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly. 

Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says. 

You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no. 

You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back. 

“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.” 

It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression. 

Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?” 

Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.” 

Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it. 

You can hold power over them. 

The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to. 

You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.

Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile. 

Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell. 

You’re beginning to see the dynamics already. 

“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in. 

All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha. 

Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”  

Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs. 

“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?” 

You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.” 

“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer. 

You nod. “Yes, sir.” 

“You lived on base?” He asks. 

You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.” 

“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it. 

It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say. 

The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well. 

“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.” 

“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent. 

You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.” 

“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks. 

You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.” 

“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks. 

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.” 

“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks. 

Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance. 

“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.

“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.” 

You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.” 

Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails. 

Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze. 

He’s going to be a problem. 

“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.” 

You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either. 

“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.” 

You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting. 

“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach. 

His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell? 

What if they don’t like the way you smell? 

“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you. 

You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier. 

“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.” 

All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible. 

“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully. 

Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen. 

He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack. 

You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs. 

“Ready?” 

You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin. 

He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland. 

His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others. 

“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you. 

You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours. 

He’s testing you. 

You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl. 

He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting. 

Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached. 

You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place. 

“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?” 

You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head. 

“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.” 

His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland. 

You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you. 

“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze. 

“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this. 

“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”

He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice. 

Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him. 

You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat. 

You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper. 

“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek. 

You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze. 

You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them. 

They could if they wanted to. 

It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you. 

“You hungry, pup?” 

Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work. 

Pup. Price called you Pup. 

You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you. 

The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment. 

“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again. 

You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.” 

“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.” 

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out. 

“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear. 

His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes. 

Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear. 

The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing. 

He’s proving his ability as a provider. 

In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can. 

You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you. 

He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks. 

A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost. 

Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult. 

I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #a/b/o