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chuluoyi · 3 months

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yours, indefinitely

- geto suguru x reader

each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!

note: based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.

But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.

Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.

MONTH TWO

Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.

You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.

"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.

When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"

"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.

Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.

"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"

"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"

“I d-don't want to trouble you...”

Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"

"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"

And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.

"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.

MONTH THREE

When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.

But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.

"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"

"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."

His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."

"Hmph... but baby wants it."

"But—!"

"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"

"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"

"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.

In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.

“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”

. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.

MONTH FOUR

With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.

And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.

"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.

"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"

"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"

Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."

"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"

Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.

“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”

"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."

"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."

You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"

"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."

"Even when you already have the twins?"

"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"

One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.

And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.

. . .

In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.

MONTH FIVE

“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.

You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”

Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”

Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.

“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”

Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”

He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”

“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.

Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”

Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—

“Suguru!”

You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.

Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"

It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—

He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.

MONTH SIX

It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.

He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.

He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.

By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.

"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"

"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."

"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"

Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."

Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."

At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.

“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”

Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.

MONTH SEVEN

You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.

"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"

Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.

Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.

"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"

It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.

"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."

"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"

Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."

And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.

MONTH EIGHT

"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.

With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.

You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.

He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.

“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”

You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.

In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.

You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—

“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.

Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.

“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.

“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.

You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.

Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.

“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”

And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.

Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.

Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—

His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—

—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.

"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.

"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.

And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.

Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.

Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.

And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.

"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.

"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.

Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."

He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.

And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—

"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"

Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.

Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.

"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."

You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."

But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.

And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.

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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 10: Treat Me Gently

Summary: You and Price take your relationship to the next level. It might be the best decision you've ever made.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral, first time sex, unprotected(ish) sex, reader has an implant, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, the author is a bit rusty writing smut.

A/N: It's finally here. It's finally arrived, the moment we've all been waiting for! Uh, yeah, it's mostly badly written smut with just a little plot thrown in there. So...I hope you enjoy!

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Your attention is pulled from your book as the couch sinks on either side of you, two bodies joining you. You glance up from your book as an arm drapes itself across the back of the couch behind you. Your eyes flicker between Gaz and Johnny, mischievous grins on their faces.

“We heard you have a date this weekend.” Gaz says, leaning in closer.

Your face warms at his words. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a date...”

“What are you wearing?” Gaz asks.

“Do ye have anythin’ to wear?” Johnny asks.

Their questions give you pause. The most formal thing you have are jeans and, though you doubt Price would care if you showed up in sweatpants, you would like to have something nice to wear.

“Come on.” Gaz says, slapping your thigh before standing. “We’re going shopping.”

“What?” You glance between him and Johnny as they stand over you.

“Already got permission from Price.” Johnny says. “So come on.” He grabs your hands, lifting you to your feet easily. “Let’s get goin’, kitten.”

Your cheeks warm at the pet name, Johnny’s hand settling on your lower back to steer you from the rec room. You don’t have much of a choice but to follow, grabbing a couple things from your room before you leave the barracks with them to a car parked outside. It’s different from the car you and Price had taken to town last weekend. Of course, they probably all have their own vehicles, or at least a few at their disposal.

“I’m driving.” Gaz says, plucking the keys from Johnny’s hand.

“Aww, ye never let me drive!” Johnny pouts.

“Yeah, because with our luck you’ll traumatize her so badly, she’ll never want to leave again.” Gaz says, opening the driver’s side door.

You can’t help but giggle at the dejected look on Johnny’s face as you get into the back, Johnny muttering the entire way to the passenger side.

“I’m no’ that bad of a driver.” Johnny says, buckling his seatbelt.

“Yeah, but both you and Simon seem to be in agreement that the speed limit is a suggestion, not a law.” Gaz says as he turns on the car. “I’d like to make it there and back in one piece, thank you. Besides, Price would have both our heads if anything happened to our girl on our watch.”

Your cheeks warm as you meet Gaz's gaze through the rear view mirror. Your heart flutters at the look in his eyes, the dedication and protectiveness shining in them.

“I wouldnae let anything happen to ye.” Johnny says, reaching back to squeeze your knee for a moment.

You stare out the window of the car as Gaz drives towards town, half listening to the conversation in the front seat. You're beginning to recognize landmarks, buildings, areas between the base and town despite it only being your second trip. They'd be proud of you, you think. At least if something happened, you'd be able to give a landmark.

The farmlands fade into the city and soon Gaz is parking on the street in front of a shop. You take Gaz's hand as he helps you out of the car, lacing your fingers together. Soap holds the door to the shop open, letting you and Gaz walk through first.

It's a nice boutique filled with all sorts of formal wear. You wonder how they even knew about this place, or if they had done some research beforehand. Both make you feel honored that they would even go to those lengths just for you.

They are going to be your pack soon.

Packs do this sort of thing for each other. They take care of each other, spoil each other, make each other happy. It’s hard to be a good pack if one member is unhappy.

“Good afternoon.” One of the workers approaches you. “My name is Emily. Is there something I can help you find today?”

“Our omega has a date with our alpha this weekend.” Gaz says, smiling down at you. “She needs something to wear.”

The worker, Emily, smiles at you. “How exciting! Did you have anything in mind? Style, color, anything like that?”

“Probably nothing too fancy,” You say, eyeing the racks. “And, probably a dress.”

“Alright, we've got lots of options for that. Let's take a look and you can try some on.” Emily says.

Gaz keeps hold of your hand as you follow Emily through the racks, looking at some of the options. Johnny goes off on his own, perusing the racks himself.

“Is there a certain color you have in mind?” Emily asks you.

You hum in contemplation, looking at the many racks. You're not sure what color Price would like, or if he even has a favorite.

“His favorite color is blue, like a dark navy blue.” Johnny answers for you. “Though, I think he'd like you in any color.”

You can't help the way your cheeks warm a bit at Johnny's words. You realize you don't even know their favorite colors. There's still so much about them that's a mystery to you.

“What's your favorite color?” You ask, looking up at Gaz.

“I don't think I have just one.” He says, running his hand over a sequin covered dress on the rack in front of you “I like warm colors. Reds, oranges, purples.”

“Like a sunset.” You say, looking at a tag on one of the dresses, nearly choking at the price.

Gaz gently removes the tag from your hand, giving you a look as you meet his gaze. “Don't even worry about it, love.” He says quietly, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“My favorite color is green.” Johnny says, appearing next to you suddenly.

“Let me guess, Ghost’s is black.” You say.

Johnny's mouth twitches. “Now how'd you come to guess that?”

You shrug, unable to hide your grin. “Call it intuition.”

Emily takes you to the changing rooms, the boys taking seats outside to wait for you to try on the dresses you've chosen so far. You pick a sleeveless, blue, knee-length dress first with a ruched skirt. You already don't like it, but you know the guys will want to see it regardless.

You feel nervous, strangely exposed as you step out of the dressing room and make your way to where the guys are sitting. They both straighten up as you approach, Johnny’s eyes immediately on your legs. Gaz let's out a low whistle as his eyes scan your figure, ending on your legs as well.

“What?” You ask concerned as you stare down at your own legs thinking the worst, like how you might have missed a spot shaving or something.

“Nothin’ love,” Gaz says, unable to lift his gaze from your legs. “Just never seen you in anything but long pants before.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. It's true, the climate had yet to allow for anything but long pants. Even to sleep, you found yourself too cold without long sleep pants.

“Christ, you've got gorgeous legs, kitten.” Soap says, letting his eyes trail your form. “Keepin’ those hidden from us?”

Your face feels like it's on fire as they stare at you, and quickly turn to face the large mirror across from them in an attempt to steady the butterflies in your stomach.

“What do you think?” Emily asks, stepping up next to you.

“It's a little too...churchy for a date.” You say smoothing your hands over the skirt. “Definitely need something fancier than this.”

You try on a few of the others, but none of them are right. Too short, too long, too formal, not formal enough. Johnny brings you more to try, a couple sticking out, but you're not sold on any of them.

The last dress you have yet to try on catches your eye as you pull it off the hook. It's a deep blue color, almost black. It's long sleeved and covers your front entirely, but the back is open. It's short, the skirt hem long enough to cover your ass, but you wouldn't dare bend over. It hugs your figure, accentuating the curves and lines of your body.

Your cheeks are warm as you step out of the changing room, both Gaz and Johnny going slack-jawed as they stare at you. Even Emily looks in awe as you stand in front of them.

“I think you've found the one, love.” Gaz says, his eyes trailing your form. “Give us a spin.”

You do a slow turn, not missing the way their eyes widen in the mirror when they see the back, Johnny still frozen as you turn back to face them.

“How do you feel?” Emily asks, stepping up to you.

“Good.” You say, your face still warm. “Really good.”

“Yeah,” She says, looking you over. “I think you've hit the mark with this one. Let me grab shoes and we'll put the whole look together.”

You turn to face the mirror as she steps away, your eyes meeting Gaz's as he steps up to you.

“You look fantastic, love.” He says, leaning in close over your shoulder, his breath fanning your ear. Goosebumps form on your skin as his fingers slowly trail up the line of your spine. “Price is going to want to devour you instantly as soon as he sees you in this one.”

You shiver at his words, biting your lip as his fingers splay out across your upper back. “You think so?”

There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “He won't be able to keep his hands off you. Gonna drive him insane, making him sit through dinner looking like a delicious dessert.”

You fear you might start smoking from how warm you feel, glad for Emily's reappearance. You try on the shoes she brings, opting for the shorter heels for the sake of your own dignity.

Johnny distracts you as Gaz pays for the items, spending far too much on you but neither will let you complain. It's what they're supposed to do.

They are your pack after all.

“What about lingerie?” Johnny asks, turning to look at you as you sit in the car.

Your face burns at his question. You hadn't thought about that bit.

“Gotta dress up the whole fit.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Lay off her, perv.” Gaz says, smacking Johnny's chest. “He's right though, gotta make sure the whole outfit matches.”

You feel like you might implode in the backseat. You might not make it to Saturday at this rate.

You wake early on Saturday. You don't have to be up early. There's nothing going on until tonight, no need for you to rise earlier than the sun. Yet, you can't help the anticipation burning in your stomach, the nervous fluttering in your chest. Tonight you're going to sleep with Price for the first time. Tonight you'll allow him closer than you've ever allowed anyone.

You have an outfit, you have fancy underwear, even new shoes. You're not sure how you want to wear your hair. You're not sure on makeup either, though Price has seen you plenty without it and has yet to offer any complaints.

You grab your phone, laying in bed and scrolling hair tutorials until the sun comes up and you start hearing movement in the hallway. You don’t bother changing, pulling on shoes before stepping out. You are hungry, even after spending half the day in town and eating dinner out with Gaz and Johnny yesterday. You slip out the door, coming face to face with Ghost. You tilt your head back, staring up at him.

“Didn’t expect to see you.” He grumbles. “Figured you’d be busy getting ready.”

“I’ve got like ten hours until I have to be ready.” You say, blinking up at him. “It doesn’t take that long.”

He lets out a huff, rolling his eyes. “Come on.”

You follow him out of the barracks, but you find yourself not having to speed walk quite as fast to keep up with him today.

“Are you upset?” You ask, kicking up your pace a bit so you can walk side by side with him.

“About what?” He asks.

“Price and I.” You say.

“Why would I be?” He sounds genuinely baffled that you’re asking him.

You shrug. “You’re an alpha in the pack too, and I didn’t really ask anyone but Price.”

“Price is your alpha.” He says, as if it’s the most straightforward thing in the world. He’s not wrong, Price is the only one that really matters when it comes to you, since he’s the pack alpha, and he’ll be the one claiming you.

“Would you ever want to be?” You ask, looking up at him.

He meets your gaze as he opens the door to the mess, not answering as you slip into the hall. He stands closer to you than he normally does as you get in line for food, tailing you like a shadow as you find Johnny among the drowsy and hungover soldiers in the mess.

You take a seat across from him, Ghost taking his spot next to Johnny. You can feel the nerves beginning to take hold as you eat, thinking about your date tonight. It’s not like you really have to impress Price much, though you suppose you could make him dislike you rather easily. You’d rather avoid that situation, as there’s no getting out of mating and being claimed by him. You’re going to be part of his pack whether he likes you or not.

What if he finds you boring? You’re not even sure what you could talk about. It’s not like you do much, and he already knows most everything he can about you. The only thing you have to talk about are things you’d rather not discuss during your first date. You’d prefer not to discuss them at all.

“You’ll be fine.” Johnny says as you walk back to the barracks. “Just get ‘im talking, and ye won’t need tae worry about gettin’ a word in yourself.”

Johnny’s words do make you giggle. You’re sure Price has so much more to talk about than you do. You barely know anything about him in general.

It’s ironic that you’re more nervous about dinner than you are about the fact Price is going to take your virginity tonight.

You did ask for this. It’ll be good, getting to know him before your heat starts. The idea of going through your heat with a virtual stranger is terrifying to you, and Price had so willingly offered to do this so that doesn’t happen, so you feel more comfortable with being mated and claimed by someone you at least somewhat know. This is your chance to get to know your pack alpha, your alpha before you’re forced to. This is your chance to make your own decision, to have some control over a life that’s been dictated for you this far.

You spend the morning in a nervous panic, looking up tips online, tutorials, possible questions he might ask and thinking up answers that will make you sound interesting at least. Answers that won’t just be parroting things that he already knows. Gaz brings you lunch, letting you continue to prepare for your date, knowing the chances of you having a breakdown if you’re forced around people are high right now.

You give yourself ample time to get ready, showering and moisturizing, making sure you smell clean and look nice. You do your hair, taking your time to make yourself look decent. You opt for minimal make up, wanting to make yourself seem like you at least put a little effort into your looks.

You're strapping on your shoes when the knock comes at the door. Six o'clock sharp, just as you expected. You take a deep breath, adjusting your dress before you open the door.

John is standing on the other side, dressed in a button up shirt and slacks. You look him over, the fresh scent of cologne reaching your nose. His eyes rake your form, his scent slipping through the cologne as his gaze darkens a bit. Gaz was right. He does look like he wants to devour you.

“You clean up nicely.” You say, looking him over again. His shirt hugs his muscles nicely, his pants obviously tailored to fit him. You haven't seen him in anything but fatigues and civilian clothes so far.

“Was going to say the same to you.” He says, lips pulling up into a smile. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Hungry?” He asks, offering you an arm.

“Always.” You say, taking his arm, letting him lead you towards the rec room.

The lights inside are dimmed, the table usually reserved for games set up with a tablecloth and candles, along with two plates covered with cloches, and a bottle of wine. You're not sure when he managed to procure the wine, or maybe he had it saved and decided this was as good a time as any.

“Wow.” You say, impressed by the effort he obviously put into everything.

“I bribed the boys out of here for a few hours.” He says, leading you to the table. “Wasn't easy.”

“I bet.” You say, sitting down in one of the chairs, letting him push it in for you.

He pours you both glasses of wine before taking the cloches off the plates. You blink in surprise at the meal on the plate. Spaghetti, a salad, and bread. It's so simple, yet it takes you right back to weeknight dinners at home.

“You made this?” You ask as he takes the seat across from you.

He nods. “I've amassed many skills over the years. I'm no five star chef, but I can throw things together in a pinch.”

“Well it looks good.” You say, picking up your fork.

It tastes good too. It's so simple, yet it's one of the best things you've eaten in the last month. You miss a lot of things about America, and the food is starting to be one of those.

You and John make small talk as you eat, the wine warming your body and easing your nerves.

“How long has it been,” You ask him as you clear your plate. “Since you were with an omega last?”

“Two years.” He says, taking a sip of wine.

Your eyes widen in surprise. You know they've been with omegas in the past, taking advantage of barrack bunnies and the swaths of willing omegas you know populate near military bases. You just hadn't thought it would be that far back in the past.

“Right around the time the task force was created.” He continues. “We were too busy bonding and working on the task force, by the time we had a moment long enough for anything like that, we didn't need them anymore.”

“That must have been torture.” You say, staring at him wide eyed.

“We're trained for that sort of thing.” He says with a smile. “How to fight off those urges, those needs. When you're in the field, something like that could get you killed. You don't pass selection into the SAS until you can show mastery over those skills.”

“Damn.” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “Still, it couldn't have been easy.”

“It can be hard, once you've been with an omega, to go without. But that's just part of the job.”

“Well, I suppose that's partly why I'm here.” You say, huffing out a laugh.

“Perhaps.” He says. “I'm certain we're not getting the full story.”

The double meaning isn't lost on you. There's a lot they don't know about you, things that are safer buried deep where they can't hurt anyone. Things you'd like to keep buried for the rest of time.

“It’s nothing...bad is it?” You ask, searching his gaze.

“I’d like to think not,” He says.

But...

You don’t need to hear him say it. You know it’s there, lingering at the end of that statement. You wonder how many times he’s been in these situations, forced to place blind trust in someone and hope they have the best intentions in mind. You’re all too familiar with those sorts of situations. Putting blind trust in strangers was your life purpose as soon as you presented as an omega.

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” He says, staring at you with such conviction you can’t help but believe him. “You’re part of our pack, which makes you part of this team, even if bureaucracy says otherwise. We take care of each other, and that includes you. You’re our omega, regardless of whatever the endgame is for this initiative.”

You feel almost breathless at his words, at his declaration of loyalty to you. You know how much loyalty means to someone like him, the kind of promise words like that uphold. They’d give their lives to defend you. You’d fight to defend them too, if it came down to it. Not that you could do much, but you’d try.

“You’re my omega.” John says, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “I take care of what's mine.”

You nod, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. “I know. You've...you've been a better alpha than I could have ever hoped for. Despite everything you've been kind and caring and understanding. I know some things we learned at the institute weren’t right, but...I was expecting a lot worse.”

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I'm glad I could prove that wrong. I know this situation is weird and less than ideal, but I fear I'll have to tell Kate she was right. She did pick a good omega.”

You smile, preening a bit under his praise. “That’s all I can try to be.”

“You can be so much more than that.” He says, lifting your hand to his lips. His beard tickles your skin as he presses a line of kisses across the back of your hand before turning it, kissing across your palm to your wrist. He presses his nose against the skin there, inhaling deeply. “You’re sure, about tonight?”

Your fingers brush his cheek as he holds your hand against his face. Your heart is thudding your throat at the proximity, those nervous flutters starting in your stomach again. He’s giving you an out, a chance to take back what you had asked for. You know he wouldn’t blame you. He was more than willing to wait for your heat to start, for when you had no choice, when it would mean less because you would be desperate and needy for him.

You don’t want that, though. You want him to want you before his instincts tell him he does. You want to know he’s not just fulfilling a duty, scratching an itch that’s been tickling him for two years now. You want him to want you as you are now. You want him to choose you.

“Yes.” You say, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. “Just...be gentle with me?”

“Of course.” He says, kissing your palm again. “You change your mind at any time, you tell me, yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He takes your hand in his again, standing from his seat.

Nerves mix with excitement as he pulls you to your feet with him, stepping up close to you. His hand lifts, tilting your chin up. Your stomach flutters as you meet his gaze, his eyes warm and soft as he stares at you. Affection shines in them as his thumb brushes your lip before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is short and sweet, like the ones you’ve shared with him before. Yet, at the same time it feels different. There’s warmth beginning to blossom under your skin, the kiss not just a simple sign of affection this time. It’s the overture, the appetizer, just a teasing taste of what’s to come.

You hold his hand as he leads you down the hallway, heels clacking on the tile floor. It makes your face warm, the thought that they all know what it means, they can hear it and they know what’s about to happen. They know where you’re going, what you’re about to do.

John opens his door, motioning for you to enter. You haven’t been in any of their rooms yet, you haven’t invaded their own sacred spaces. Your steps are slow and cautious as you breach that barrier, John’s scent washing over you as you step into his room.

It’s neat and tidy, just as you expected it would be. It’s not laid out all that differently from your own, though perhaps a bit more organized and clinical than yours. There’s a shelf next to his nightstand, stuffed with books and what you can assume are souvenirs from places he’s been. There’s stacks of papers on the desk, his clothes and shoes tucked away neatly in their places. His bed is slightly bigger than yours, and you wonder if that’s a perk of his status, or if he pulled some strings once he learned he was getting an omega.

The door clicking shut draws your attention back to John, the click of the handle a finality. You’re doing this. There’s no going back now.

Not that you want to.

John steps up to you, staring down at you. You stare up into his eyes as his hand comes to rest on your waist, his touch hot through the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks, voice rumbling in his chest.

You nod, your hands slowly sliding up his arms, feeling the muscle hidden beneath his dress shirt. “Yes.”

His lips meet yours, beard tickling your skin as he kisses you. You let him lead, leaning into him as he pulls you closer against his chest. He’s so warm, so firm under your hands as you grip his shoulders. His hand slides from your hip to your back, a gasp parting your lips as his calloused fingers touch the bare skin of your back. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. He tilts his head, taking advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes like wine, a quiet sound leaving your throat as he pulls you tighter against him, pressing your body into his. You can feel all of him, the hard ridges, the strength in his body as he cages you in his arms. Your head is spinning, intoxicated purely by the smell and taste of him.

Something rumbles deep in his chest, your entire body shivering in response. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your hips pressed flush against his. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. You’ve been able to smell the musky tinge of arousal in his scent all evening, and you wonder how long he’s been hard. Has it been since he saw you? Or has he been thinking about this all day?

The thought thrills you, makes your omega preen in the back of your mind. You did this. Your alpha is all worked up because of you.

A whimper leaves your lips as his hand slips lower, smoothing over the curve of your ass. He mumbles a curse against your lips before they blaze a path down the line of your jaw to your neck. You tilt your head, bearing your throat for him. A low rumble of approval vibrates through his chest, his hand squeezing your ass. The sound has your omega practically belly up, the dampness between your thighs intensifying as your scent gets heavier in the air.

John groans against your throat, teeth nipping at your neck just over your scent gland. “Such a good girl for me.” He groans, his hand on your ass guiding your hips to grind against his. “Such a good omega.”

You whine at the praise, hands blindly sliding down his chest to pull at the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers are trembling slightly from excitement, fumbling as you attempt to get his shirt off. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the warmth of him pressed against you.

“Easy pup.” His voice rumbles against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin before he pulls back, hands taking over to strip him of his button up and undershirt.

You lick your lips as his skin is revealed to you, your hand automatically lifting to touch him. You hesitate for a half a second but he makes no move to stop you. Your eyes trail over his form, over the many, many scars that decorate his skin like some kind of macabre painting. Lines and jagged slices, the telltale star shaped marks of bullet wounds. Cuts and nicks from knives or bullets, you can’t tell the difference.

Your fingers settle on a rather large scar on his side, starting at the base of his ribs and curling around his side. It’s an old scar, but the skin is still rough and uneven. Whatever had caused it, it took a chunk out of him. You don’t want to think about it, about how every scar could have been a close call. How many times he’s been on the brink of death.

“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your fingertips, his beard tickling your skin. “Tonight is about you.”

He pulls you close again, leaning down to press his lips to yours. His hands are warm against your back as he wraps himself around you again, trapping your hands against his bare chest. Your nails dig into his skin as his hands sink lower, grabbing handfuls of your ass. He groans, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. He presses you backwards, and you trust him to guide you until your legs hit the side of his bed.

“Gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?” He growls, his voice rough around the edges as his alpha slips through.

“Yes, alpha!” You gasp against his lips, your head tilting back in submission.

“Always such a good omega for me.” He praises you, teeth nipping at your throat. “Good omegas kneel for their alphas.” He says, pushing you backwards so you plop down on his bed. “But a good alpha,” He slowly lowers himself before you, dropping to one knee, then the other as his hands wrap around your ankles. “Kneels for his omega.”

Your face warms as you stare down at him, unable to do anything but watch as his hands make quick work of your shoes, setting them neatly beside the bed. His skin is rough against yours as his hands drag up your legs, slowly parting them. He moves himself closer, kneeling between your parted thighs. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he reaches up, pushing on your stomach until you're laying flat on his bed. He can see up your skirt now, and you're silently glad for the lacy panties Johnny had insisted on.

“Do you trust me?” His lips brush your inner thigh as his hands pause just at the hem of your skirt where it's ridden up almost to your hips.

“Yes, alpha.” You say, lifting your head to stare down at him.

He meets your gaze as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his hands continuing to press upwards until your dress is hiked around your waist. Your heart is fluttering rapidly in your chest as you stare down at him, his gaze leaving your eyes to stare at the soaked lace barely covering your most private parts.

His hands leave your hips to curl around the lace, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric snaps easily, the shreds falling to the floor. Your lip part as you stare at him in shock.

“I'll buy you a new pair.” He says, his hands gripping your thighs to pull them further apart.

The cool air in the room hits your slicked folds, making you shudder. He's barely touched you and already you can feel how slick you are. His lips press against your inner thigh again, blazing a path upwards. His gaze meets yours again as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds.

You gasp at the foreign sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp.

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You let your arms give out, laying flat on the bed again. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself. Not since before you left the institute four months ago.

You don’t last very long.

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to John’s face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm.

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His beard is shiny with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again. He lets out a chuckle, the scent of your arousal washing over him.

“Fuckin sweet as sugar, love.” He says as he pushes himself up from between your legs, his body folding over yours on the bed.

His face presses into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your pussy flutters at the thought of him claiming you now, sinking his teeth into your skin to mark you as his forever. He could. It would be so easy for him to do it. His tongue laves over the skin covering your scent gland, a shiver running through you. Your arms wrap around him, holding him against you as your scents mingle, musky with arousal.

“Alpha...” You whine, your hips pressing up against the bulge in his pants. He’s fully hard now, the fabric of his pants providing delicious friction against your folds.

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your throat before he pushes himself up over you. “Soon, love.” He says, moving until he’s standing in front of you. “Think you’re a bit overdressed still.”

Your eyes dart down to his pants. “So are you.”

He smirks, his hands dropping to your waist, slowly pushing your dress up higher. You let him slip it over your head, lifting your arms to help him. You’re bare before him, warmth spreading through your veins as he stares down at you. Your hands lift, coming to rest on his thighs. You can feel the muscle through the fabric, the strength of him beneath your hands. How easily he could take control, pin you down and take what he wants with little regard for you or your pleasure. How easily he could hurt you, snap your bones like they’re toothpicks, bruise and batter your body without even straining a muscle.

Yet he stands here, patiently watching as your hands move closer and closer to the prominent bulge in his fitted pants. He doesn’t even twitch as your hand cups his hard length, your breath stuttering at the sheer size of him. He’s big like most alphas are, or so you’ve heard.

His eyes stare into you as you undo his belt, popping the button on his pants open. He finally moves as you pull down the zipper, helping you tug his pants and briefs down. His cock stands at attention, almost as stiff as he is. You stare at his veiny cock with wide eyes, the tip flushed almost red with how hard he is.

“Christ.” You breathe, staring at him in awe.

You did that.

“Easy, love.” He says, leaning down to wrap an arm around your waist. “I said tonight was about you.”

He moves you so you’re laid out on the bed, your head hitting his pillow. The scent of him floods your nose as he joins you on the bed, the frame creaking as he kneels between your legs. Nerves twist in your stomach as you continue to stare at his cock bobbing between his thighs as he runs his hands along your legs. It’s going to hurt, you know that. It suddenly seems daunting, this request. At least during your heat you’d be so out of it with need you wouldn’t really feel anything. And you’d have plenty of slick to help.

“None of that.” He says, squeezing your thighs gently. “I told you I’d take care of you.”

You nod, swallowing thickly.

“We’ve got more work to do before we reach that point. I’m not just going to stuff my cock into you like some needy pup.” He stares at you. “You tell me and I’ll stop, alright?”

You nod again. “Yes, alpha.”

Your breath hitches as his hands reach the junction of your thighs, one moving to your stomach, the other dragging through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingers. They’re so much thicker than your own, your pussy clenching as he presses against the entrance.

“Relax for me, love.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your stomach with his thumb.

His finger presses into you and your lips part at the intrusion. You clamp tight around his finger, making him groan.

“Easy.” He says, his thumb moving to circle your clit.

A breathy whine leaves your lips as his finger presses deeper into you, reaching further than you ever could. Your hand reaches up to thread through his hair, letting the short cropped strands slide through your fingers. It’s softer than you imagined, though you expect he too had spent the afternoon preparing for tonight as well. The mental image of him lathering himself in moisturizer would have made you laugh if his finger hadn’t brushed against a spot inside you that has your hips lifting off the bed.

He leans down, lips blazing a path up your stomach, between your breasts to your throat. He swallows your moans as he works you open with his fingers, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into your wet pussy only adding to the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel it building within you, heat burning through your veins. Price groans against your lips as your nails scratch his scalp, his cock leaking against your thigh. You want him, need him inside of you. You need to feel him, you need to be close to him.

“Alpha, please.” You whimper, tugging at his hair.

He stares down at you, eyes blown with lust. “Please, what?”

“Need you.” You whimper, grinding against his hand. “Please, sir.”

Price closes his eyes, letting out a groan. His cock twitches against your thigh, his fingers slipping from you. He breathes out a curse, shifting to open his nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube, sitting back on his knees to squirt some into his hand. You’re plenty slick, but you watch as he rubs the lube on his cock, tossing the bottle back into the open drawer.

He kneels between your thighs again, staring down at you as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. You feel intoxicated, your head spinning from the intensity of his scent around you and the knowledge of what’s about to happen.

Price folds his body over yours again, the head of his cock brushing your folds. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, parting your thighs further for him as his tip catches on your opening. Your hands grip his shoulders as he presses into you, the stretch stinging a bit as he works you open. This is it. There’s no going back now.

You don’t want to.

You whimper quietly as he pushes into you, nails biting into his skin. It’s too much, yet you can’t get enough of it as he sinks further in. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls away from your lips staring down at your face.

“Alright?” He asks, stilling where he is.

You nod. “Just need a moment. You’re really big.”

His lips twitch up into a smile, a pleased growl rumbling through his chest. “Don’t start talking like that, love.” He says, leaning down to press kisses to your face.

“Or what?” You ask, your nails digging harder into his skin.

“I might not be able to control myself.” He growls, his alpha slipping out around the edges of his voice.

Your pussy clenches at his words, walls clamping down around him. He lets out another growl, hiking your leg up over his hip. It forces him deeper into you, your breath catching at the feeling of him spreading you open.

“Fuck,” You breathe, rocking your hips to take him even deeper into you.

John’s arms frame your head as he presses his body against yours. Your arms slip around his back, legs locking around his waist as he begins to move slowly, working himself deeper and deeper into you until he’s pressed flush against you. He stills for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as you both breathe. You’re trembling just slightly, overwhelmed with being so close to him, to your alpha. The pain and discomfort is gone, replaced by burning heat as desire pulses through your veins.

“Please, alpha.” You whimper.

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you, omega.”

Your skin is slick with sweat already as he begins to rock his hips into you. Your hands press into his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex as he moves. It feels good, the friction of your bodies, the way he stretches you open with every thrust. Your head is spinning with pleasure at the thought of being so close to another person, being so connected with someone else.

Not just someone else, with your alpha.

The wet squelch of your pussy as he thrusts into you is loud, the mattress creaking as he picks up speed. You’re trembling, your thighs squeezing around his hips as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You’re not sure how he’s lasted this long, especially without any sort of release for himself yet tonight.

Perhaps it was the training he spoke about earlier.

You’re not sure how he manages it. You couldn’t have that kind of control. Not after this. Not after knowing how good it can feel, how good he can make you feel.

“Fucking feel so good.” He grunts, his breath fanning her ear. His own skin is slicked with sweat, muscles twitching under her hands. “So fucking tight and warm.”

“John!” You gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades as he picks up the pace even more, his hips snapping against yours.

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good omega? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, staring down at you.

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the night. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes.

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!”

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck.

The smell of sex, arousal, sweat, and your own combined scents are heavy in the air. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around John as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still.

“Alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

You nod, slowly unwinding yourself from around him. “Yeah. ‘M good.”

“Fucking Christ, a man could get addicted to that.” He says, lifting his face from your neck. “Sweet little omega.”

Your face warms more than it already feels, and you lean into his touch as his fingers brush your cheek.

“Let me go get something to clean this mess up with.” He says, pushing himself up so he’s kneeling.

You can’t help but giggle as his joints pop and he lets out a groan at the effort. “Need a break, old man.”

His eyes flash playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Going with the old man insults again, huh?”

You give him a look. “You’re the one grunting while getting up.”

You let out a surprised yelp as he brings his hand down on your thigh, the skin tingling as he gets up. “I’ll show you old man.” He murmurs as he heads for his en suite.

You bite your lip as you begin to feel his release slipping out of you, the feeling causing desire to stir in your stomach once more.

John tsks as he comes back, wiping the mess between your thighs. “Needy little thing.” He practically purrs, stepping away to toss the rag into the bathroom sink before he returns, climbing back onto the bed.

You press as close to him as you can, nuzzling into his neck. Your limbs are still twitching a bit, your mind buzzing from the aftermath of what had just transpired. John wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You press a gentle kiss to his neck, earning a rumble in response. Your own rumble starts up as you purr contently, tossing a leg over his hip to allow you to get as close to him as possible.

He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Comfortable?”

You purr louder in response, sleep beginning to fog the corners of your mind.

“Good girl.” He says, pressing another kiss to your head. “Sleep. Alpha’s got you.”

Taglist:

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

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as-is-above-so-below · 1 year

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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood Next >>

John Price stood at a round table, leading the mission brief for the team’s upcoming operation. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz sat around the table in various positions. Soap with his boots kicked up onto the table, chair tilted back; Gaz leaned forward onto the table, his forearms on the surface; Ghost leaned back against his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Soap and Gaz wore their regulation tan t-shirts and camo pants, while Ghost was clad in a black long-sleeve and his standard skull balaclava.

“So if we’re stormin’ the building, we’re all accounted for,” Soap pointed out, clicking the pen between his fingers. “We need a sniper.”

“Called in a favor with a good friend, who should have been here–”

“Ten minutes ago,” a strong but mellow voice cut in as a figure turned through the doorway. “I know, sorry John. Got a bit caught up with my room assignment. Tried to put me on the other side of base.”

A woman came into view, offering her hand out to John. They firmly grasped each other’s forearms in a quick shake. Soap and Gaz both had only slightly surprised expressions. Not at the fact that their sniper was female; they’d worked with plenty of fierce women during their time in Task Force 141.

The fact that she did not look the part.

She wore a massively oversized black sweatshirt that brushed her thighs and dark blue skinny jeans, her hair loose down her back. Must’ve just got off a plane, Soap thought to himself, looking her up and down. Her stance showed her confidence, feet shoulder-width apart as she faced the team with a bright smile (one not often found in their field of work) and glowing skin. She wasn’t necessarily small, more average height, but her attire dwarfed her frame.

“Thank you for joining us, Captain,” Price nodded at her. “This is Freyja. American Special Forces, sniper, undercover ops. She’s been briefed and will be joining us temporarily for the op. She comes highly recommended and outranks all of you, so I’d suggest you be on your best behavior.”

The woman jabbed Price with her elbow, rolling her eyes, much to Soap’s surprise. He barely suppressed the laugh that bubbled in his chest, unable to help the small choking laugh that escaped. Ghost glared at him and he quickly piped down.

“Thanks, John, but I think I’ll be fine. Glad to be of use.”

“Happy to have you. Let me know if you need anything while you’re here. I’ll leave you to it, get acquainted. We leave at 0400 hours. We’ll be infiltrating in daylight; prepare accordingly.”

“Aye, Captain,” Soap nodded once and saluted him, setting his chair back down as he rose. He watched John pat her shoulder on his way out, sharing what seemed like a knowing look, before finally departing to his quarters. Interesting.

Soap was the first to cross the room, taking her hand in a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Captain. Sergeant John Mactavish,” he introduced, shaking her hand. He noted her equally firm grip and the cool metal of a wedding band pressing into his palm. Her skin was calloused yet soft, not as rough as his own.

“Soap, right? Heard a lot about you.”

“Aye. Good things I hope?"

“Mostly.”

A boisterous laugh left him, so loud you’d think the room shook. Soap heard Gaz gag on his water before breaking into a choked wheeze. The other man approached, shaking her hand as well. “Kyle Garrick, call me Gaz.”

Her hands found their way into the pockets of her sweatshirt.

“So, Freyja… like the–?”

A gentle, airy giggle floated into his ears. What a lovely sound. “Yes, like the goddess. I know, my husband’s idea.”

Soap groaned, his head lolling back in faux agony as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re breakin’ my heart, lass. Was hopin’ ya didn’t have one’a those. He in the service?”

“He is, but you wouldn’t know him. Keeps a pretty low profile,” she shrugged, keeping her eyes on the two men in front of her.

”D’ya think I could take him?”

”Probably not.”

Neither Soap nor Gaz noticed the way Ghost’s mask twitched slightly, evidence of the smirk that pulled at his lips. But she knew his microexpressions like the back of her hand, even out of the corner of her eye. The Scot remembered Ghost’s presence suddenly and waved his hand in his direction. He hadn’t made any move to greet the newcomer and hadn’t spoken during the entire brief.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Ghost, you heard the man. Be nice to the lady!”

Ghost grunted, keeping his arms folded on his chest. “Captain.”

“Lieutenant.”

The two stared at each other, her brow quirked. As the seconds passed, the interaction became increasingly awkward for everyone else in the room. Even the thickest person on the planet could have sensed the tension. Unable to take the silence any longer, Gaz stepped in to attempt to relieve some tension. “You two worked together before?”

“You could say that,” Ghost stated as he rose from his chair. “A word, Freyja?”

Her tongue poked at the inside of her cheek and she squinted at him. It was almost comical, the height difference between the two. Typically, Soap would have made a snarky quip, if not for the vicious look in her eyes. He wouldn’t say it out loud to him, but the scowl rivaled his lieutenant‘s. Finally, she spoke, “Excuse us, gentlemen. I’ll see you in the morning. You know where to find me in the meantime.”

“G’night, Cap,” Soap nodded and moved to the side, allowing her to pass to the door. Ghost didn’t spare them another glance as he followed behind her. The two men stood silently until they heard a door slam shut up the hall. Soap snapped his gaze to Gaz and found him already looking with wide eyes.

“What was that about?”

Soap shrugged noncommittally. “Not a clue. Bad history? Ghost’s no’ exactly skilled in manners.” He went to head to his room when he noticed a military-issue duffel where Freyja had been standing, an American flag patch on the side. He bent down and slung it over his shoulder. “Left her stuff. I’m gonna drop it by ‘for hittin’ the hay. See ya in the mornin’.”

They went their separate ways, Gaz disappearing to the armory to stock up for the mission. Soap approached the only spare room in their wing and rapped his knuckles against the door. He waited for a few beats to no response and repeated the motion.

Nothing.

Soap’s brows furrowed when he heard what sounded like a muffled argument from the next door up, labeled “Lt. Riley”. Soap should have just left her duffel in front of her door and continued on his way to his bedroom, and gone to bed.

But no, he just had to snoop.

He crept toward the door, still holding the bag as he pressed his ear to the hollow wood. They clearly knew each other, but Ghost hadn’t seemed happy to see her. He felt a bit guilty spying on his lieutenant, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He heard Ghost’s deep voice first.

“We had a deal. You’re supposed to be on leave, and Price knows that. I have half a mind to wring his fucking neck–”

“John didn’t ask me to be here, I volunteered–”

“Cut the shit, Y/N. I’m not daft. He has no place calling you in without asking me first.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Simon!”

Simon? Just how familiar were they with each other?

“Oh, I’m well aware. I just figured that when your husband asks you to stay home, you'd listen! How silly of me!”

So he knows her husband. Interesting.

“That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“You want to talk about fair? You went around my back to my Captain. I’d say anything’s fair play at this point.” Heavy boots crossed the floor. “This isn’t just about you anymore. You’re not my superior, you’re–”

Soap shuffled his feet, he realized too late how loud the noise was in the empty hallway, and the voices suddenly stopped. He knocked in an attempt to recover, quickly stepping back from the door before it opened. The woman appeared, now in a too-big band tee, her dog tags resting on her chest. “Hi, Johnny,” she greeted, her tone significantly warmer than it had been a moment ago.

He didn’t remember mentioning his preference for the name, but he couldn’t find a reason to comment on it then. “You, uh, left ya bag. Wanted to drop it off, figured you’d be here.”

“Oh, my bad. Thanks, I appreciate it.” He transferred her possessions to her. The bag that appeared standard when he carried it looked huge compared to her frame. The added weight did not phase her. “We have an early morning. I’m heading to bed.”

Ghost moved from his spot near the bed on the other side of the room. “Frey–”

She held a hand up, sending another chilling glare in his direction. Soap was impressed when Ghost didn’t even blink at the look. “Enough, Lieutenant. That’s an order.” He didn’t miss the eyes behind the skeleton glowering or how the fabric near his mouth shifted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he growled through clenched teeth.

She brushed by Soap, readjusting the bag on her shoulder as she stormed to her room, somehow gracefully maintaining her posture. Before he could turn back to question Ghost, the door swung shut in his face.

Real polite.

~*~

“Alpha-One, in position.”

“Copy that, one. Alpha-Two, in position.”

“Bravo?” Soap’s partner looked over his shoulder at the white light flashing at them in the distance. There was a muffled choking sound and a swallow, followed by a sniffle. “Freyja?”

“Sorry. Multiple armed guards. Two snipers at the east and west sides of the targets.” Her voice, while calm, sounded tired and a bit drained. As if she could sense the unspoken question, she came through their headsets again. “Little sick this morning. I’m fine.”

Ghost's jaw set and he rolled his shoulders, blinking a few times to focus. Soap noticed the motion and covered the mic on his headset. “You a’right, Lt.?” he asked, his voice concerned with his brows furrowed.

Ghost ignored him. “Can you get a visual inside?”

“Negative. Windows are blocked in both buildings. You’re going blind.”

“What’s the call, ma’am?” Gaz’s voice.

“This is Price’s op. I’m just here for support.”

“Ghost?” Price this time.

Ghost audibly sighed, his irritation at the situation clear. Soap wondered how bad their last encounter could have been for the usually collected man in front of him to be so disheveled. Soap looked over at the lieutenant, who had turned his attention back to the opening in the wall between them. “Bravo, hold your position. Understood?”

“Affirmative.”

“Alpha-One, move in on your target on my command.” Ghost clicked off his mic and slid the chamber back on his pistol, doing one final check.

Soap took the opportunity to follow up on his unanswered concern. “Ghost, you good? Seem tense. Something going on with the lass?”

“Shut up, Sergeant.” He reached up to click his headset back on. “Freyja cleared hot to engage.”

“Standby.” A beat passed, then another, until the suppressed shot of a sniper rifle rang through their headsets, followed by the bolt being pulled back and pushed forward. Another shot. “Clean hit. Snipers down.”

“Copy. Alpha-One, move in. Keep it quiet,” Ghost commanded, signaling Soap forward with a tilt of his head.

She watched Ghost and Soap move swiftly around structures and cars forward to their target. Her gaze periodically adjusted between them and Alpha-One, Gaz and Price. Soap’s accent was low in her ear. “Approaching target. Engaging two hostiles.”

The pair dispatched the guards with ease, the same as the other team up the road.

“Be advised, I have no eyes inside,” she reminded the group, surveying the surrounding area as both teams entered the building.

“Roger. Breaching.”

On their frequency, angry shouts and gunfire had her writing uncomfortably in her spot. She didn’t like not having a solid visual of her team; it made her feel helpless. The audio of the scene inside wasn’t helping her nerves (or nausea) much, either. The sniper was almost lost in her thoughts when she caught movement at the edge of her scope up the street.

Reinforcements.

“Ghost, engaging incoming hostiles. You might want to bug out,” she suggested, taking several shots at the armed men back-to-back. “Alpha-One, sound off.”

“Heard. Intel acquired,” Price acknowledged. “Clearing out.”

“Alpha-Two, how copy?”

The radio crackled once before Soap came through. “Copy, I’ve lost visual on Ghost. Got separated in the firefight,” he grunted, still firing shots inside the building. “‘M gonna have to squirt.”

Something wasn’t right. “Ghost, how copy?”

Silence.

“Lieutenant, what’s your status?”

Her skin crawled at the repeated silence. “Fuck.” She took a deep breath and pulled her knees underneath her body, her stomach suddenly stilling, nausea disappearing. “Abandoning post.” Her voice pierced through their radios with urgency. She abandoned her rifle and made her way down from her perch.

“Absolutely not. We’re converging at the meeting point now.” Price cursed under his breath as she brandished her sidearm and sprinted towards Ghost’s last location. “Stand down, Bravo, that’s an order!” The captain commanded, rough and authoritative.

“All due respect, Price, get bent.”

Price and Gaz watched helplessly as she disappeared into the structure, Soap approaching them from their flank. “The absolute balls on that one, aye?” he snickered, eyeballing Price. He didn’t even flinch, expression hard as steel as he rubbed his face. He hadn’t seen his captain that stressed in quite a while. Maybe not the time for jokes…

The blood-curdling screams Soap heard would scare any man straight. It sounded like a horror movie slaughterhouse over their comms, whether it was caused by Ghost or Freyja he didn’t know. He did know it was her voice that said Ghost’s name and assumed the distant, heated mumbling was Ghost. He must have lost his headset if they couldn’t hear him clearly, and what they were hearing was whatever her comms picked up. “Shut the fuck up and move. If you were fine, I wouldn’t be here, Lieutenant. You can thank me later,” she snapped, sounding eerily similar to a stereotypical angry wife. There’s no way she cleared out that entire convoy on her own…

Right?

Moments later, without any other gunfire, the pair emerged. Ghost was indeed missing his headset, while Freyja trudged in front of him, taking long steps to cross the street. Her helmet was gone, and her hair had come loose. Gun in one hand, a familiar black combat knife in the other, dripping blood. Strands of hair clung to her face, coated in dark red, along with her hands, bare arms, and vest. Soap’s eyes blew wide. “Steamin’ bloody Jesus, did she–?”

Price hummed and nodded beside him. In the same breath, she stumbled over to a car and gripped the door handle, dumping her stomach on the dusty road. Soap and Gaz moved to help, but Price stopped them with a single grunt. Ghost was immediately on her, expertly sweeping her hair into one hand as he pulled her earpiece out, cutting off their audio. One of her hands grabbed his vest for support while his other hand rested on her back.

“Well, that’s unusual,” Soap chimed, his head cocked to the side as he watched the display.

“Quit starin’ and load up. I doubt that’s the last of those reinforcements.” Price waved at them, catching Ghost’s attention and pointing to an approaching Heli, waving his hand in a “roll out” motion.

~*~

The ride back to base in the heli was one of the most awkward experiences of Soap’s life; not a word was spoken during the short trip. Ghost pulled a rag out of his vest and silently handed it to Freyja to wipe some blood from her face; she passed him the blade she had carried, and he finally placed its familiarity when Ghost tucked it into the empty holster at his hip. She looked utterly drained now that they were in close quarters. In another shocking moment, she rested her head on Ghost’s shoulder, and he didn’t move to shove her off.

What the fuck?

At the base, Ghost dropped her off at the medical bay before storming into the meeting room where the team had gathered to debrief. “You’re a dead man, Price,” he barked, finger jabbed at him as his skull plate skittered across the table when he threw it. “You fuckin’ knew–”

“Simon, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t “Simon” me. Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Captain! If she’s hurt–”

“I didn’t think she would compromise herself that easily.”

Ghost barked a dry, humorless laugh as he pointed in the general direction of the infirmary. “Of course, she’s bloody compromised! She’s my fuckin’ wife, you git!” he snarled, teeth viciously bared as he ripped off his mask.

“Hell’s fuckin’ bells…”

“Bloody hell…”

He was too angry (and, frankly, scared for his wife’s health) to acknowledge their audience. “This is exactly why I told you not to call her. I can’t focus if I’m worried about her safety right now. She’s supposed to be safe at home, resting, not running into a bloody warzone, for God’s sake!”

“She was told not to leave her post–”

“When has she ever obeyed a direct order?”

Silence fell over the group, Price effectively losing the argument. Neither Sergeant wanted to find themselves on the other end of Ghost’s rage. They had no envy for Price and dared not get between them. No envy at all. On the other hand, Soap had so many questions. Since where was Ghost married? When did he have the time for a wife? And an American at that? How long had he been keeping her a secret?

“Simon.”

Four heads whipped to the soft voice across the room, finding the woman of the hour standing in the doorway. A superficial cut on her forehead had been taped up, her face clear of blood. Soap and Gaz stared at her in disbelief, jaws dropped as they looked from her to Ghost and back again. She chuckled at their expressions but didn’t move to approach them. “Captain Riley. Lovely to meet you both, officially,” she reintroduced herself, a slight smirk on her lips. She finally met her husband’s gaze, her expression softened at his bare face, save for the black paint.

He curled two fingers at her, one arm crossed over his chest. “C’mere. Now,” he ordered her, though his tone had little bite to it.

Even only knowing the sniper for such little time, Soap was outright shocked at the display. Flabbergasted by her obedience when she immediately strode to the spot next to him, barely leaving any space between their chests. It didn’t seem like her. He was obviously wrong, considering what he’d just witnessed.

Ghost took a deep breath as he peered down at her, examining her visible skin for injuries. “I’m right pissed at you, love,” he muttered, allowing her to loop a finger in his belt loop.

She smiled up at him, her admiration clear now that the sergeants had been let in on the secret. “I know.”

“Don’t give me that look.” The man sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn’t hold his ground with that smile of hers. He dropped a gloved hand to rest on her lower belly, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You alright?”

She placed her hand on top of his and bobbed her head. Her familiar glow from the night before had returned.

“I’d like an apology.”

“And I’d like a parade in my honor. Oh, and a good ol’ fashioned fu–”

“Oi, better watch that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

“You love my mouth.”

“Tha’ I do. Just not right now, sweetheart.”

Soap couldn’t take it anymore. “Steamin’ blood Jesus L.t., are you…flirting?”

“Shamelessly,” she giggled, never once tearing her eyes away from the man towering over her.

Ghost rolled his eyes again, his other hand slipping into its home on the side of her neck. “You’re done. I mean it. And if you call her again, I walk,” he threatened, turning his head to address Price directly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Ghost, she held her own just fine,” Soap interjected from his chair. “Hen took out an entire squad practically single-handedly, plus the convoy before she went in after ya. I don’t see the problem.”

Realization dawned on Gaz suddenly, forcing him to his feet again. “You’re pregnant,” he exclaimed, both in shock and awe. “That’s why you were feeling sick. And the big clothes. You’re on maternity leave."

The lack of response from John and Freyja and how Ghost studied Gaz said everything they needed to know.

“No wonder you’ve been downright crabbit with her! Can’t say I blame ye, ‘s too dangerous out there to be mucking about with a little one in there.” Soap rose to his feet too, smiling like a cheeseball, ready to ruthlessly tease him. “How’d you manage that, Ghost? A bangin’ wife and a baby?”

“I know it’s been a while for you, Sarge–”

“Aw, away n’ bile yer heid!” the Scot barked, dismissing his lieutenant with a wave.

“English, MacTavish.”

“Sorry, sir, let me translate…Go fuck yourself.”

“Much better.”

He moved on from Ghost, addressing Freyja now. “I’ve so many questions! How long ‘ave you been together?” Soap leaned against the round table in front of them, his hands dragging across the shaved portion of his head.

“How old am I?” Ghost asked in a low, teasing timber.

Her upper lip tugged upwards as her hand wavered, indicating an estimate. “Five years, give or take.”

“Five years?! Son of the god-damn-devil, Lt! You’ve had a secret wife for five years–” He cut himself off with a gasp, his volume dropping to a brash whisper. “Does he take the mask off when you—”

“Tha’ll do, Johnny.”

Her bubbly laugh filled the room, and she swatted his tactical vest with her palm. “Si, don’t be an ass,” she warned, raising a brow at him. “Oh, John! I have pictures for you!” The woman let go of her husband and dug out folded ultrasound photos from her zipped pocket. She, Price, and Gaz moved to another corner of the room, gushing over the snapshots of her latest appointment before flying out, leaving Soap and Ghost alone by the meeting table.

A mischievous grin overtook Soap’s face. “An American, eh, Lt.? And she outranks you?”

“Not another word, Sergeant.”

A long pause stretched between them, although not long enough for Ghost’s liking.

“So… Goddess of love, beauty, and war,” he inquired, raising an eyebrow at the Brit, who threw him a questioning side-eye. Soap hummed. “Fitting.”

Soap almost gawked at the smirk (borderline smile) that Ghost bore as he watched his wife animatedly pour over her photos. “I’m well aware.” Another moment passed between them before Ghost fully turned to the other man. “Johnny?”

“Yeah, Ghost?"

“Flirt with my wife again, I’ll knock your teeth in."

"Noted, sir."

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap

Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.

Word Count: 4k

Part 2: READ HERE

The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you.

Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction.

Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.

All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.

Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly.

“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”

As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”

To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”

Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”

Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.

Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says.

The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze.

You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit.

And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.

“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement.

You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.

“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”

He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”

You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.

With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge.

You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.

The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore.

The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”

He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?”

Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”

“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.

“Yes,” you confirm.

Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.

Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.

The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.

Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.

It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”

Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.

Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.

Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together.

How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?

The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.

You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth.

That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him.

The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth.

And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.

You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.

The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand.

Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his.

Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment.

Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed.

Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.

“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”

It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready. But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own.

By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent.

You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.

“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.

Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both.

Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.

Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”

You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie.

“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”

You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case.

“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.

You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back.

“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”

The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.

Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up.

You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken.

Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.

The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it.

Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed.

This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.

And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 3 months

Text

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 3 ] || [ Chapter 5 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.6K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 4: John?

The lads sat in the common room of their floor at the base. Gaz and Soap had just finished a round of Gran Turismo on the PS4 they had set up, while Ghost sat at a table in the corner on his work laptop.

“Ye think the Captain’s married?” Soap mused aloud once he set down his controller on the coffee table.

“What kind of question-” Gaz quipped in confusion as he turned to look at Soap.

“He never talks about a missus Price...” Soap explained. “or second mister…” He added.

“That’s not a question you want the answer to.” Ghost said in a dismissive tone from his corner.

“Why not L.T.?” The Scot grumbled.

“People’s lives are private for a reason, Johnny.” Ghost said with a shrug and a tired look.

“Ye, but the Captain’s not like you, L.T.” Soap retorted with a chuckle.

“If anything, he’s worse, Johnny.” Gaz remarked as he looked at the two other men. “Simon’s reserved but Captain Price is pretty open.... except for that side of his.”

Soap went silent for a long moment, seeming to ponder what the other two were saying.

Then, the Scot shook his head. “If he was married, he’d be easier to deal with, I reckon.” He grumbled. “And I think I’ve heard of him going out and getting laid before.” He added. “Last year, especially.”

“You’ve heard that too?” Gaz asked as he bounced a bit in his seat and straightened up, intrigued. “Fuckin’ hell, I thought it was just me. I’ve been dying trying to keep my mouth shut about it!” Gaz added.

“So d’ye think he hasn’t gotten laid lately, then?” Soap asked. “He’s been bloody moody since early last year with Shepherd and Graves…” He added.

“Oh, he definitely has a major case of blue balls.” Ghost remarked, drawing both the other men’s attention to him and causing their jaws to drop.

“L.T.!” Soap said with a surprised chuckle. “That’s bad of you! You’re not being the Captain’s good ol’ boy…” He joked.

“Oh, piss off. Just saying. It’s obvious the boss’ pent up.” Ghost remarked.

“I say we get him laid.” Soap remarked with an impish expression.

“And how do you suggest we do that? We hire him a prostitute?” Gaz asked with raised brows.

“No? Obviously not!” Soap said with a head shake.

“Good, can’t imagine the Captain appreciating that very much.” Gaz added.

“No, but we’ve gotta think of something! He’s impossible to deal with.” Soap remarked.

“I’ve told ‘im to his face and he asn’t done shit to fix it yet.” Ghost remarked from the corner.

“You’re kiddin’? L.T. you told him to get laid?!” Soap gasped in surprise.

“No, I’ve told ‘im to get ‘is ‘ead on straight.” The Mancunian quipped and shrugged, turning his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

“What about a dating app profile?” Gaz suggested and the Mancunian and the Scot both turned to look at Gaz with intrigued eyes.

“I’m getting my spare phone!” Soap announced as he got up and rushed out of the room.

“He has a second phone?” Gaz asked Ghost who simply shrugged.

It took almost an hour and a half and a few beers in their systems (thank God they were on break for the evening), but eventually tey had set up a fake profile for Price.

Sure, the pictures were grainy at best, but they worked well-enough. Courtesy of Soap having a habit of taking covert pictures for his snapchat and sometimes catching Price in them... (and other times just taking pictures of the man directly).

It had been mostly Soap and Gaz doing the work, however when it came down to writing the bio, Ghost gave quite the helpful input… By the time they were done, it genuinely looked like it had been Price writing it.

The lads high-fived each other. Even Ghost joined in! He looked to be in a good mood… Maybe it was the beer, or maybe something he was doing on his phone. Gaz had spotted him texting someone and chuckling to himself.

As Soap began swiping mindlessly across all the pictures of people on the Swiping page, Gaz sat next to him, peeking over his shoulder.

“People are going to read the part on the bio that says we are not Price, right? Because I don’t want ‘em to feel like we’re catfishing.” Gaz remarked.

“Don’t worry! If they don’t, we’ll unmatch!” Soap announced as he kept moving his finger repeatedly and quickly to the right. He was liking everyone, in order to get a fairly good sample size for Price. They didn’t know what kind of person the Captain liked after all…

Just as Soap’s finger is slowing down due to the amounts of profiles he liked… He spots it. And then Gaz does.

“No way!” Soap interjects. “I know this person! I matched with them on my own account!” He remarks as he clicks on your profile.

“Bloody hell, me too.” Gaz remarks, causing Soap’s head to turn and his jaw to drop.

“Wait, ye’ve got a Tinder too?” Soap asks to which Gaz nods.

“Yeah, to get laid.” He says with a shrug and a mischievous smirk. “Our chat was bloody funny.”

“Mine too!” Soap quips and chuckles. “Had a right laugh with them earlier.”

“Let me see?” Ghost asks, curious, and he slides over, bending over the back of the couch to look over Soap’s other shoulder.

“Small world. They matched with me too.” He remarks dismissively.

Both Gaz and Soap turn to look at Ghost like they’ve seen, well, a ghost.

“YE’VE GOT AN ACCOUNT TOO, L.T.?!” Soap shrieks, louder and more high-pitched than a grown man with his natural timber should.

“I’ve got a life, MacTavish.” Ghost retorts.

“No, we know that, sir.” Gaz says softly.

“Just didn’t think ye’d be on dating apps.” Soap nods.

Ghost simply shrugs and pulls back, walking back to his corner, in an armchair which he took as his own in the last hour.

“Was that who was makin’ you laugh earlier, Simon?” Gaz adds.

Ghost simply gives him a look that can be interpreted as a tired ‘Yes’, before he looks away to keep working on his laptop.

“Should we Like their profile, then?” Soap asks with a chuckle.

“Uh… yes?” Gaz adds, laughing along. “I can’t wait to see their reaction to it being us behind the screen.” He adds.

Soap clicks the green heart button to Like your profile and then immediately hops on DM once it presents a Match. Before he can write some nonsense, Gaz steals the phone from his hand and starts typing on the cracked screen.

John: well hello again you: hello? you: how can it be again though? you: never saw your 'captain' before in my life. John: no but uve seen US John: sorry! allow us to introduce ourselves formally

“Sir, does your profile have you listed as Simon?” Gaz asked as he raised his eyes from the screen. Once Simon nodded, he resumed typing.

John: our names are kyle john and simon

“Johnny, not John, mate.” Soap corrected Gaz right after he hit send.

John: johnny* sorry

They could only imagine the look on your pretty face as you realized who they were.

you: get out! you: no way!!!!! you: all three of you?! John: ye you: wait is this what simon meant when he called himself a traveling consultant? is he a soldier like you?

“L.T. they’re already accusing ye of lying to them.” Soap quips, causing Ghost’s eyes to shoot up from his laptop.

“Lying? Huh?!” He asks in confusion as he puts his laptop aside and rushes over to the couch. He sits on the armrest next to Gaz so he can look at the screen.

He then snatches the phone from Gaz’s hand, pulls off his right glove, and types a reply with now bare fingers on the cracked screen.

John: I wasn’t lying. John: I just omitted the truth. I don’t go about bragging about my career. you: sure sure sure ‘John’. you: sooo you: is this some kind of weird joke? are you playing a prank on me all matching me individually and then using a fake account?

Gaz snatched the phone from Ghost again.

John: kyle here and no John: we really want our boss to get laid John: he’s miserable you: well im not the one night stand type really you: its why i didnt accept to get together with any of you.

“L.T. YOU TRIED TO SLEEP WITH THEM?!” Johnny asked with another gasp.

“So did you!” Ghost retorted.

“I never thought you were the type!” Soap said with a smug little smirk on his lips.

“Oh piss off, they rejected us all.” Ghost retorted. “So it shouldn’t matter.”

As they kept bickering, Gaz remained laser-focused on texting you and, just as they got heated, he spoke up: “They accepted.”

“Wait wha-” Soap said as he whipped his head down to look at the screen, just narrowly dodging Gaz’s nose and Ghost’s head.

“Bloody hell they did!” Soap yelped as he pulled his head back.

“They wanna go out with Price and ‘see where it goes because he seems like a nice man that needs a break from the three of you’?” Ghost read from the DMs on the screen.

“Ow.” Soap quipped in mock-injury.

The three men raised their eyes and met each other’s, before all their faces morphed into confusion.

“Did they… Did they just reject all three of us for a man that isn’t even aware of this account?” Soap asked aloud, undoubtedly voicing the thoughts in all their minds.

“It seems that way.” Simon said as he looked away.

They all went quiet, each of them quietly contemplating all their life’s choices that led them to the moment they got rejected for a person that isn’t even ‘real’.

After long minutes, Gaz spoke up. “How are we going to tell the Captain he has a date?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

IF THE GIF DOESN'T WORK FOR YOU: CLICK HERE

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader

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f1goat · 6 months

Text

more than friends + lando norris x part seven

In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.

masterlist - playlist

warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors

requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six

“Lando come on mate,” Oscar sighs, “You really have to get into this taxi.”

Oscar then takes a look at his teammate. He already knew that Lando was drunk, but now that he looks at him he realizes that it’s way worse then he already thought. Lando is firmly shaking his head. Oscar curses Daniel and Max for making Lando take this many shots. He mostly curses Pierre for not stopping with talking about you this night. Now he is left with his drunk friend. Max and Daniel went home earlier, something in the lines of having to catch an early flight. Pierre didn’t want to wait for Lando to get into the previous cab. So now Oscar is alone with Lando, the boy who doesn’t want to get in any cab right now.

“You don’t understand, I want Y/N to come pick me up,” Lando states drunkly for the tenth time that evening.

“I can’t call her awake for this,” Oscar tells him tiredly.

“Yes you can, she’ll come,” Lando argues.

“Mates, are you getting in or what?” The taxi driver asks them annoyed. Oscar sighs again, “No, sorry,” he answers then, “I’ll pay you the expenses of coming here. Sorry again.”

“Are you going to call Y/N?” Lando asks hopefully.

The taxi drives off in the mean time. Oscar looks at his phone, is he really going to call you awake for this? Fucking hell. He curses Pierre again, this is all his fault. And maybe a bit of Daniels and Maxs because of those fucking shots. Oscar thinks back at the awkward conversations from earlier. He sighs because of his friend and his cluelessness. Why isn’t he already dating you? It can be so simple. He tries to remember which remark from Pierre started this, but he is quick to realize it again. Of course it was about that stupid date.

///

“So is your friend still single?” Pierre asks Lando with a cheesy grin. Oscar is quick to notice the way Lando’s face falls flat.

“Which one?” Lando asks like he doesn’t know it’s about you.

“The one who is with you every race, what’s her name again?” Pierre continues.

“You mean Y/N,” Daniel interrupts their conversation.

“Yes! She! Is she still single?” Pierre asks Lando a bit hopeful.

Oscar stares at Lando. How is his teammate going to react to this? This can’t be good. It doesn’t surprise him when Lando takes a big gulp of the cocktail standing in front of him before looking at Pierre again. Oscar lets out a small sigh, this really can’t be good.

“Yes she is,” Lando eventually answers Pierre.

“Great!” Pierre reacts happily, “I’m thinking about asking her on a date soon.”

“You want to date Y/N?” Max asks confused, “Do you even know her?”

Oscar is happy that Max is talking right now. Lando is looking at Pierre like he wants to kill him. Oscar wonders what’s going on in Lando his head right now, but he’s pretty sure that it’s the same thing as when he told him about Logan wanting to date Y/N.

“Not yet,” Pierre reacts to Max with a smirk.

“I don’t think you’re a match with her,” Lando states. Before Pierre or anyone else can question him, Lando is already continuing talking. “You don’t seem like her type. And I don’t think she’s yours if I look at your exes. She doesn’t like going out all the time and wants someone who’s ready to settle with her instead of another meaningless relation.”

“I’m changing,” Pierre states dramatically, “and she’s really good looking.”

Maybe Lando thought that nobody heard his next remark. He’s talking softly. But Oscar is paying too much attention to his friend, causing him to hear Lando carefully. “Fucking hell, why does everyone want her,” his friend sighs.

///

“Are you going to call her?” Lando asks. It causes Oscar to snap back into reality. He looks at the hopeful eyes of his drunk friend. Eventually he nods at him, he lets out another big sigh before searching for your contact on his phone. When he presses the call button he doesn’t really expect for you to pick up. Maybe it’s smarter to call with Lando his phone? But before he can say something about it to Lando, you’re already picking up the phone.

“Hi Oscar, what’s up?” You ask him surprised.

“Hey, sorry for calling you this late. I hope I didn’t awake you,” Oscar says with a guilty feeling.

“Oh no,” you quickly reassure him, “I was still up, I’m waiting for Lando to get back. I can’t really sleep peacefully when he’s still out.”

Fucking hell, why aren’t the two of you already dating? Oscar is getting tired of the obliviousness between you two.

“Oh great,” he reacts, “Listen, Lando is drunk and I can’t get him in a cab. He wants you to pick us up. I already tried to get him into multiple cabs, but without succes.”

He hears some vague sounds on your side of the phone call. Oscar wonders what you’re doing. It can’t be that you’re already getting ready to pick them up, right? He can’t imagine it. It would be more logical for you to tell him to try again with another taxi or to ask for Lando so you can talk some sense into him.

“Can you text me your location? I’m already walking towards the car,” you tell him after a bit of weird sounds around you.

Oscar looks confused. He doesn’t know what to think. Are you this quick to drop everything to come pick up Lando? He now knows for sure that Lando doesn’t need to question himself, the two of you really should be dating already. This is just stupid.

“Uh yeah of course, thank you so much!” He tells you happily. Even with all of his wonderment right now, he’s really glad that you’re already getting to the car. You’re making his evening a lot easier.

“I will see you in a bit!” You tell him before ending the call. Oscar is quick to send you his location and sits down next to Lando onto the pavement. Lando looks at him with a hopeful face.

“She’s insane,” Oscar mutters to his friend, he is still confused by it. “You really need to ask her on a date soon mate, because why on earth would she come pick us up at this time without feeling anything for you?”

“That’s our friendship,” Lando answers, “don’t look into this too much.”

“You’re stupid,” Oscar sighs annoyed.

“But she’s coming?” Lando asks confused. His drunk brain isn’t clear enough to realize that you are coming to pick him up right now.

“Yes,” Oscar answers.

It doesn’t take you longer then ten minutes to get to Lando and Oscar. When you park the rental car in front of them, Oscar is quick to help his friend into the passengers seat next to you. He takes a place on the backseat himself while thanking you multiple times for getting here this fast.

“Oh it’s nothing,” you brush off the thank you’s without thinking about it. “Why is he this drunk?” You ask Oscar. You could ask it to Lando, but he hasn’t said a word since he’s sitting next to you. He is however extremely touchy. Lando his hand has found his way onto your thighs.

Oscar doubts about his answer, but eventually tells you it’s because of the shots Lando took with Max and Daniel. He doesn’t mention the earlier conversations with Pierre in which Lando drank away multiple strong drinks. You let out a soft laugh while hearing Oscar his explanation.

“He really can’t handle shots,” you joke.

“I noticed,” Oscar sighs, “He kept asking for you though. Is that normal when he’s drunk?” Oscar hopes you get the hint. Since Lando isn’t going to do anything about his crush, he can better help his teammate by dropping some hints.

“Oh I normally pick him up after he drinks, so it’s probably just out of habit,” you tell Oscar without hesitation. Oscar realizes that you didn’t get the hint. You’re just as clueless as Lando himself. “But I don’t get why he isn’t talking,” you continue, “normally Lando is rather talkative when he’s drunk.”

Oscar doesn’t think about his next words. “I think he’s a bit too busy staring at you.” You let out another soft laugh. You quickly take away your hand from the steering wheel to give Lando his hand a soft squeeze. Only for a second before you focus on steering again.

When you get back to the hotel you truly notice how drunk Lando is. He is barely getting out off the car by himself and he can’t even walk normally. You and Oscar both take side of Lando and support him a bit while walking towards the elevator.

“Do you need help to get him back to his room?” Oscar asks you.

“Oh we’re sharing a room, I’ll be fine,” you quickly answer, “you already did enough!”

Oscar looks confused at you. He didn’t realize that Lando and you share a room on race weekends.

“You’re sure that you aren’t dating each other?” He asks confused.

“To be honest, sometimes I think we’re already dating as well,” you answer honestly, “but to answer your question, we’re not.”

Oscar decides to push his luck with his next question. He needs to know for sure. “Do you want to date him?” He asks you.

You take a good look at Lando before answering. It seems like he is in his own world right now. He isn’t paying attention to your soft conversation with Oscar.

“Yes,” you confess, “why would I otherwise drop everything to come with him to every race he wants me to? And why would I drive at night in an unknown city for me to come pick him up, while he would be fine with taking a cab.”

“Maybe you should tell him that,” Oscar says softly, “because I’m pretty sure that he feels the same.”

The lift makes a soft sound to tell you that you’re on your floor. “Oh I need to get out here!” You tell Oscar, “see you later Oscar!”

Oscar sighs softly. “Yeah,” he says, “Thanks for picking us up again.”

When you finally got Lando into your bed, you are quick to take place next to him. Lando reaches out to your body and pulls you closely onto himself. He plays with your hair. You notice the smell of alcohol every time he breaths, but you don’t say anything about it.

“Babygirl,” he eventually says with a soft voice. Lando doesn’t continue to speak, so you get up a bit to properly look at him. “Yeah?” You ask him.

“Would you date Pierre?” Lando asks you without thinking about it. He is annoyed with his own bluntness right now. Why did he ask you that? You wonder about Lando his weird question.

“No,” you state, “Pierre isn’t my type.”

“Thank god,” Lando whispers.

Before you can say anything else, Lando continues to question you.

“What about Logan, would you date him?” Lando asks further.

“No,” you answer again, “He’s a bit young and I don’t think that I’m made to be an American,” you joke.

When Lando asks another question you barely hear him. You even wonder if you’re imaging it.

“Would you date me?” Lando asks you as soft as he can manage. This time he really curses himself. Why did he ask that? He doesn’t even want to hear your answer. “Just joking,” he quickly says, “I’m going to sleep. Goodnight baby.”

You’re confused by him, but nonetheless you wish him a goodnight as well. You even press a soft kiss against his cheek. A bit later, when you’re sure that Lando is asleep, you still answer his question. While laying with your head on top of his chest and listening to his restful heartbeat and deep breaths you answer it.

“I’d date you Lando,” you softly whisper. “You only have to ask.”

+++

The following morning Lando awakes with a massive headache. He is quick to remember most parts of the night before. He feels ashamed while thinking about his whining about you picking him up, but he can’t help to feel loved when he thinks about you actually picking him up. He knows you hate driving in the night, certainly in cities you don’t know. He starts to feel more ashamed of himself when he realizes that he asked that from you and that you actually did it. But in some way it also feels good that you did that for him.

When he remembers about his questions before falling asleep next to you, he starts to feel even more ashamed. But on the other hand, he also feels kinda happy now he knows for sure that you won’t want to date Pierre or Logan. But still.. there are many other boys with interest in you.

He reaches out to his phone and reads the texts he got.

Pierre: Can you send me y/n her number?

Lando doesn’t react to that one. Of course he isn’t going to send Pierre your number. He reads the other texts.

Oscar: you better remember what Y/N did for you last night

Oscar: and you better thank her for it with something!!!!

Lando is quick to reply to this text.

Lando: like what? I have no idea how to thank her

Oscar: take her out or something, or get her flowers, girls love that

When Lando feels you moving next to him, he realizes that you’re getting awake as well. He looks at you when you slowly open your eyes and adjust them to the bright morning light in the hotel room.

“Hey Lan,” you softly greet him with a small smile, “How are you feeling?”

“The worst,” Lando answers, “Sorry for last night princess.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “you always pick me up when I’m drunk so I could finally do something back.”

“But I could have gotten into the cab,” Lando sighs while feeling annoyed with himself, “I know you hate driving in the night and certainly in a city you don’t know.”

“Lan,” you softly say, you grab his hand and draw small circles on it, “It’s fine, really. I don’t mind it.”

Lando shows you a boyish grin. You wonder what he’s going to say. But his following movements can make you already guess it. Lando slowly drapes himself on top of you, he presses a few soft kisses to your face before lowering himself. He toys a bit with the waistband of your string, eventually he is quick to pull if off your body.

“Maybe I can thank you like this?” Lando mutters. After saying those words he is pressing small kisses on your slit. He notice the way you are already getting a bit wet by his movements. He makes sure to ignore your clit for now, teasing you a bit by doing so.

“Lan,” you softly whine when he slides his finger through your slit and still doesn’t touch you where you want him to. Lando shows you another boyish grin. “Teasing me isn’t thanking me,” you say after a bit when he still doesn’t change his movements.

“Patience babygirl,” Lando tells you. You let out a soft moan when he finally presses his lips onto your clit and softly sucks it inside his mouth. In the mean time he adds one of his fingers into your pussy. You can’t withhold another moan while he does. Lando is quick to increase his pace with his fingers. He harshly sucks onto your clit. He’s more aggressive then you used to, but in a strange way you only like this more.

It doesn’t take long before Lando notices your pussy clenching around his finger. He is quick to respond to it by adding another finger inside of you. He increases his pace once again. You can say for sure that he’s finger fucking you right now. Your stomach is tightening because of his movements. You can already feel your orgasm coming close. When the waves of pleasure start to hit over you, Lando removes his fingers and mouth from your private parts.

“Fuck,” you say without thinking about it.

Lando looks up at you. He positions himself next to you onto the bed.

“Come sit on my thigh babygirl,” Lando says. You’re quick to do what he says, although you have no idea why he wants you to sit on his thigh. “Ride on it,” Lando instructs you. You show him a confused look, when you want to ask him what he means Lando is already explaining himself. “Grind on it,” he explains, “just move your body and you will notice what feels right for you.”

While you try to act out Lando his instructions, he lets his hands wander to your tits. Softly he starts to knead them. Even more soft he pinches your nipple. You let out a surprised squeak. Lando smirks. You start to ride his thigh a bit faster.

“Feels good, doesn’t it princess?” Lando asks you. You can only nod at him while increasing your movements. Lando grabs your hips and helps you with your movements. You let out a hard moan. Fuck, this feels way too good. It doesn’t take you long to get close to your orgasm again. Lando notices directly. He feels the way your wetness is spreading on his thigh. Maybe he should let every boy who wants to date you smell his thigh, so they will understand that your his. He is quick to shake off those thoughts, but he still thinks about how beautiful you look while riding yourself on his thigh.

He really needs to make you his.

When you let out a loud moan Lando realizes that you have came. He is quick to pull you into his arms and lets you crash down onto his body.

“Fuck Lan,” you mutter softly, “It’s insane how you can make me feel.”

He really needs to tell you about his feelings. Maybe now is the perfect timing? You grab your phone and look at it with a surprised face.

“Any idea why Pierre Gasly is texting me?” You ask Lando confused.

Fuck. Lando lets out an annoyed sigh. Fucking hell. Lando shakes his head at you. You open the message and read it aloud to Lando.

“Hey, I got your number from Daniel,” you start to read. Lando curses his friend. “And I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me so we can get to know each other.”

“What are you going to say?” Lando asks you quickly, “I mean you know Pierre is a player right?” He realizes that his jealousy is showing, but Lando can’t help himself anymore. He needs to know for sure that you’re not going on a date with Pierre.

“I told you yesterday I wouldn’t date Pierre,” you tell Lando, “so that’s still the answer.”

Lando doesn’t react verbally. He just pulls you closer to him and presses a kiss against your lips. Thank god. He realizes that the universe is sending him all the hints that he can get. He really needs to tell you about his feelings. But how?

part eight

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

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wasteddmoondust · 2 months

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teacher || james potter

pairing: james potter x reader 863 words, preschool teacher au, james is a single dad (not for long...?), kindergarten teacher!reader, gender neutral reader, harry is her student so you know how it goes a/n: sorry this took months i have been in the slumpiest slump ever. hope you enjoy :,) I'm not too sure about how preschools fair in other countries but this is mostly based on my own experiences!

"Mr Potter! Lovely to see you today."

James walks into your classroom, and it's humourous to see you seated in a chair and table meant for six-year-olds.

He smiles at you and waves. Unfortunately, you're swooning on the inside.

Yes, it's unprofessional to have a crush on a parent, let alone the parent of one of your beloved students. Very unprofessional, actually. But you can't help but be enamoured by his looks. He looks exactly like his son, Harry. Messy hair and gold-rimmed glasses.

Or maybe he's just one of the only few parents who are the same age as you. And it doesn't help when you know he's a single father and always strikes a conversation with you whenever he has the chance to. In your head, maybe it wouldn't hurt to make a move.

"Of course, I'm happy to be here today, though it's the last time," he says as he sits down in an identical tiny chair.

You know you have to push these thoughts aside, because this was the last parent-teacher meeting for your kindergarteners who will be graduating in a few weeks. No matter your feelings, your job was to tell parents how their child has faired so far in their education.

You take a deep breath and fix your hair. "Okay, let's get started."

You adore Harry, a joy to have in your class. He is very friendly and communicates very well with his peers and teachers. He actively participates in class. He is developing well in the different aspects. You explain everything in layman's terms so he can understand, and he nods along, listening.

"Needless to say, Harry's definitely ready for primary school. If you'd like, it would be great if you continued his learning at home as well, before he officially starts school." you finish, nodding at James. You unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that it won't be long until you'll never see this man again.

"That's great," he says, looking up from Harry's portfolio from over the year. "Harry really appreciates you as a teacher, you know? He always loves coming to school."

You smile at that, it warms your heart. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll definitely miss him when he graduates."

There's an awkward silence between the both of you, not particularly knowing what to say. You both nod and look down. You know it's the end.

"Well..." you start. "If you don't have any more questions, that will be it. Thank you so much for joining us on this journey, Mr Potter."

"I do have- um- a question?" he says abruptly. He suddenly seems more fidgety and nervous, gripping the binder of Harry's portfolio.

"Um..." he scratches his head. You look at him expectantly. "I appreciate you as Harry's teacher, of course. He always says that you're very nice and pretty... I also think you're very nice and pretty..."

You nod along, trying to keep your cool by controlling your facial expressions.

He continues, his shoulders slowly rising in a shrug. "So if you'd let me, we can meet outside of school for once," he spits it out quickly like he's ripping a band-aid off.

Blinking slowly, you process what just happened. "Did you just ask me out?" you ask, eyes wide.

His eyes dart to the side and then back at you. "Yes," he says.

"Mr Potter-" you start.

"Please, you can call me James-"

"Your son is my student."

"He won't be by next week."

"It will be very unprofessional of me-"

"I don't hear a no, though..."

And you're both in silence again. You sigh and bring a hand to your face, resting your chin on your palm as you look away from him. You try to think of your next move.

Aside from all of the consequences that may occur, this is a golden opportunity. Your teacher life always gets so hectic and you barely have time to go out and meet people. If you miss this chance you may never get to have one like it again.

You bite your lip and accept whatever fate may come.

You speak in a hushed voice, willing that no one hears this conversation. "Fine, yes. I'll give you a chance. But if anything goes wrong, my priority is my job and yours is Harry. Got it?"

James let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He looks up at you with sparkling eyes. "Yes, okay. I will-"

He's cut off by a knock at your door. Your colleague opens it and her head pokes into your classroom. "Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the next parent is waiting outside," she says. You nod at her and she leaves. You stand up, and James does too.

"Well, this is... unofficially goodbye, Mr Potter. It really has been a pleasure teaching Harry," you say, stretching your hand out for a shake. He takes it, and his hand is warm.

You mutter quickly to him, "My contact is in the binder."

He grins at you, childlike, and you watch him leave your classroom with a wave. You wave back, smiling.

You sincerely hope you won't regret this decision.

a/n: RRRAAHHH i really hope to make this a mini series of some kind because i have the softest spot for kids and i start being a real teacher in a month! asks are open if you have any thoughts <3 thanks for reading!

#marauders x reader #marauders imagine #requests #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter x you #zee writes

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kittwix · 2 months

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First Kiss with the Joestars

Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, Giorno Giovanna, Jolyne Cujoh, Johnny Joestar, Josuke Higashikata (Gappy), Jodio Joestar x Neu! Reader

word count: 5.4k , it's long if you read all of their parts >_<

tags: very sweet; cavity inducing fluff, jodio is a little mean, reader stand isnt specify or implied, reader is gender neutral!

Jonathan Joestar

Your suspicion grew when he had invited you for a picnic out to the vineyard. He had made it obvious that he liked being around you, even at the times when he would be practicing for his Rugby tournaments, he would always encourage you to be there to cheer him up.

He would have everything all planned out, he had his maids prepare the basket for him and even went ahead to pack some of his favorite lunch items; resisting the urge to just eat them right then and there before he could meet up with you.

Upon meeting, he gracefully held the basket with one hand, offering his other arm for you to grasp. He greeted you with a kiss on the back of your hand, a faint blush gracing his cheeks, eliciting a chuckle of amusement from you.

"My, my, Jojo.. Have you contrived this all on my behalf?" You stood there, curiosity in your eyes and a small smile, as you watched your boyfriend carefully spread a beautifully sewed quilt over the uneven patches of grass. It was clear that this moment, simple as it might seem, was shaped with intention and care, setting the stage for the intimate afternoon you were about to share together. "Could it be that there is a significant event which has escaped my memory?”

"No, nothing of that sort." Jonathan replied, his smile casting a warmth over you that felt as comforting as sunlight caressing your skin.The sheer sight of him made your tummy flutter with butterflies; his handsomeness was evident, and his disposition was the pinnacle of gentleness. He was the nicest and most sincere boy you'd ever met. "What a delightful day out, wouldn’t you agree? The weather is simply ideal for a luncheon outing with my beloved.”

"Well yes," You hummed, now it was your turn to be embarrassed as you fidgeted with your hands for a moment and watched him take apart the lunch. "I cannot shake the suspicion that you are plotting something. Quite the mischievous schemer, are you not?”

"What? Me? That’s absurd! Do you truly believe me of being capable of such baseness?" Your boyfriend teased, mimicking a frown which prompted you to gently push on his shoulder as you shared a laugh. It was times like this where you could genuinely admire him. You noted the sharp outlines of his chiseled face, and how his kind blue eyes, reminiscent of the deepest sapphires, seemed to sparkle even more under the natural light. And oh, that smile...

You gradually moved closer to him, inch by inch, until there was almost no room between you. He twisted his head, appearing surprised by the sudden closeness, yet there was no sign of disinterest in his reaction. Silence encompassed you both, the world around you dissolving into a distant hum.

Within seconds, you closed your eyes and closed the final gap, your lips meeting his in a sweet, short kiss. It was a brief encounter, lasting only a few seconds before you pulled back, but in his gaze, you could swear you saw stars twinkling back at you. He glanced at you, completely taken aback, his mouth slightly parted as if about to speak, capturing a moment of wonder.

"Wow..." He reacted. "That was certainly not within the scope of my intentions, but I must admit.. It was rather pleasant."

Joseph Joestar

It was mostly his initiation, he likes to joke around with you a little too much but that was just part of his personality that you like so much. Not to mention that he can be pretty unpredictable, making him blunt in ways that just makes you like him even more.

"What do you want now, Joestar?" You asked, crossing your arms at the sight of your tall boyfriend creeping up on you with a stupid smile that could only mean that he was up to no good.

"Ouch! Can't a guy stroll up to his darling and turn on the charm?" He asked, seeming to have pretended to his offensiveness with a hand on his chest as he bats his eyelashes at you. “Anyways, got any plans later?”

“Oh, what’s it to you? Gonna take me out for dinner? Miss Lisa Lisa isn’t going to like the fact that you’re slacking off on your training.” You reiterated back with a little smirk and a hand on your hip. "She doesn't need to know! I can handle almost anything, baby! Just give me a shot, or else you might get kissed." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, leaning in a bit closer, and you couldn’t help but conceal the smile that was growing on your face. With a playful push, you gently nudged him back, enjoying the flirtatious banter between you. “Is that a threat?” You raised a brow. “Or are you asking something out of me?” “Perhaps.” He answered back and for a second, silence enveloped both of you, heightening the tension in the air. It didn't help matters that he was so close, his scent filling your senses. Glancing around briefly, you released a small sigh, shaking your head in a playful manner. With a tender gesture, you reached out and cupped his cheek, the intimate moment shared between you intensifying.

“You’re impossible.” Your voice was a faint whisper, closing the distance between you as you moved in to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. The kiss, delicate and sweet, lasted far longer than you had anticipated, but you found yourself loving every moment of it. As you got closer, the temptation to melt into his embrace overcame you, and you could feel his eagerness through the curious movements of his hands, which became bolder by the minute.

However, just as you were about to voice your feelings, the distinct call of Caesar’s voice pierced the intimate bubble you had created, forcing you to regretfully break the kiss. Turning your gaze back to Joseph, you were met with his trademark snarky smile, a look that teetered on the edge of being both endearing and infuriating. He wore his joy openly, quietly bragging to himself about having gained something as simple as a kiss to you. It was a moment that triggered a playful irritation in you, making you want to slap his smug grin away.

As the moment between you faded, you watched him depart with a playful wink cast over his shoulder in your direction before returning back to Caesar. Even as he walked away, his cheeky demeanor left a lingering warm feeling in your heart, a silent promise of more moments like these to treasure.

Jotaro Kujo

On the contrary, it was an accidental kiss and wasn't something that neither of you had planned. It was in front of everyone as well, especially in front of his grandfather, which only heightened the embarrassment of the situation.

The situation had taken an unexpected turn, with suspicions that an enemy Stand user, possibly one of Dio's underlings, was involved. This required everyone to be attentive, continuously on the lookout for signs of an attack or sabotage, no matter how bizarre the situation may be at hand. Despite the tension, the moment had allowed for a brief lapse into normalcy as Joseph generously offered to cover the cost of lunch for everyone. You conveyed your gratitude gracefully, humming blissfully to yourself as you devoured the pasta you'd chosen, enjoying the flavors

However, your delight was cut short when you felt an unusual sensation in your throat. It swelled quickly, making it difficult to breathe and speak. Panic came in when you realized you were choking, and the situation quickly escalated from uncomfortable to life-threatening. It was Iggy who had caught on to this, the small dog emerging from beneath the table and began barking loudly at you.

The abrupt escalation of events threw the group into a state of alarm. As you began to drool excessively, struggling for air, a small, rabid-like bug emerged from your mouth, adding a surreal horror to the scene. Your attempt to cry out was muffled, choked by the intrusion. Polnareff and Joseph let out a collective scream, their voices blending in shock and terror. Despite the panic that was clouding your eyesight, you could see Avdol and Kakyoin rush into action, summoning their Stands with an eagerness.

In the midst of the chaos and fear, you suddenly felt a strong, reassuring grip on your shoulder, spinning you around until you were face-to-face with Jotaro. His presence was imposing, the brim of his hat casting a shadow that obscured the upper half of his face, rendering his eyes invisible in the moment. Before you could process the situation fully, Jotaro's lips pressed firmly against yours. Shock and a surge of adrenaline caused your eyes to fly open wide, your hands instinctively curling into fists against his muscular chest. As he pulled back, the realization hit you: Jotaro had taken the stand from your mouth, now holding it between his lips. With a look of disgust, he spat it out to the side. In an instant, Star Platinum was summoned, its fist blurring into motion as it delivered a powerful punch that sent the stand hurtling into oblivion.

Everyone was taken aback by Jotaro's action. It was a bold move that had you gasping for air. Your cheeks flushed with warmth as you processed the sensation; his lips had been surprisingly soft, and the kiss had carried a level of passion that left you questioning its intent.

The lingering sensation of his lips on yours created an array of emotions swirling within you, mixing gratitude with confusion and a hint of curiosity. The lingering sensation of his lips on yours sparked a range of emotions within you.

You cleared your throat, the unexpectedness of the circumstance made you feel instantly self-conscious, forcing you to put your plate aside as your hunger faded in the aftermath of the experience. “Thanks…” You said hoarsely.

“Yare Yare…”

Josuke Higashikata

You and Josuke attended the same school, and it had become a regular occurrence for him to offer to walk you home. At first, you didn't think much of it, considering it a friendly gesture. However, things took a different turn when your school friends started teasing you, hinting that Josuke might have a crush on you.

Today was like any other day, with Josuke offering to walk you home once again. However, a nagging feeling of guilt crept over you as you realized how many times he had gone out of his way for you without expecting anything in return. Despite your gratitude for his kindness, you couldn't help but feel like you owed him something more substantial.

As the two of you approached your house's doorstep, you fidgeted with your hands, an anxious yet grateful smile forming across your face as you turned to face the boy. "Is this like, the millionth time you've walked me to my door?" you teased gently, resting against the doorframe and looking down at your feet. "You're really sweet," you said, genuine admiration coloring your words as you met his gaze again. His presence was familiar and comforting, making every trip to your door a special part of your day.

Josuke rubbed the back of his head, a bashful smile playing on his lips as he blushed slightly at your words. "Hey, I was raised to be a gentleman, y'know," he replied with a hint of self-consciousness, his genuine sincerity shining through. "And, uh, I think you're pretty cool to hang out with." he added, trying to play it off casually but unable to hide the warmth in his eyes as he looked at you.

"Yeah? I think you're pretty cool too," you replied, crossing your arms and allowing your gaze to linger on his figure, almost as if you were studying him intently. Josuke, with his trademark pompadour, couldn't help but chuckle softly at your lingering look, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

You fought with the thoughts that raced through your mind, urging you to take the risk and make your move, especially after leaving Josuke visibly flustered. He was now haphazardly kicking at a pebble under his foot, avoiding direct eye contact as if quietly expressing that he was waiting for something else to happen before returning home. The tension in the air was obvious, and you could sense the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

"I wanted to thank you for walking with me every day," you began, your voice wavering slightly with nerves. "A proper thank you," you quickly corrected yourself, hoping to drop a subtle hint about where the conversation was heading. "I feel like my words aren't enough. I think you deserve something more meaningful."

As you spoke, Josuke's gaze shifted back to you, curiosity and anticipation flickering in his eyes. He didn't know what to expect, but the moment he felt your hands holding onto his biceps, everything seemed to fall into place. His heart skipped a beat as realization dawned on him, his mouth going dry and his lips quivering slightly in response to the sudden surge of emotions.

Without hesitating for another second, you leaned in and gently pressed your lips against Josuke's, savoring the sweetness of the moment. The taste of cherry chapstick lingered on your lips, adding to the enchantment of the kiss. When you finally pulled away, a soft giggle escaped your lips as you admired the lovestruck expression on Josuke's face, his goofy grin speaking volumes about his happiness in that moment. "S-so, uh... I'll pick you up tomorrow?" Josuke asked, a hint of nervousness lacing his words. In response, you gave his cheek a soft tap, a reassuring gesture that brought a smile to his face. With a final glance and a warm smile, you opened the door to your house, leaving Josuke with a sense of anticipation.

“Definitely.”

Giorno Giovanna

During another date that he had arranged, Giorno bought you ice cream as the two of you walked hand in hand. It was a rare occasion when he wasn't caught up in his responsibilities as a mob leader and actually took the time to be with you. Being outside of the mansion felt refreshing, and you were grateful that Giorno shared the same sentiment.

"You know," you started, a playful lilt in your voice as you attempted to coax him into sharing the dessert, "it's one of your favorite flavors. Are you sure you don't want a taste?" Your attempt was light-hearted, an effort to draw him into a small act of normalcy, something as mundane as sharing ice cream on a date.

Giorno's response was a chuckle, the sound warm and rich, filling the space between you. "I'm quite sure. Today, I'm more than happy just to see you enjoy it," he replied, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

It made you wonder if he'd ever considered taking the relationship to the next level. Nothing extravagant, simply the fact that you've been dating for a while now and he has never initiated a kiss. How you ached to feel his lips on yours. Given his soft-spoken demeanor, you wondered if his lips were also soft and moisturized, providing an intoxicating lasting sensation with each kiss. Given that you were staring a little too long, Giorno had turned to meet your eyes as an evident grin spread across his lips as he cups his own cheek out of embarrassment. “Is there something on my face? You look like you have something you want to say.”

“Mmm, yeah actually.” You responded back with lidded eyes as you gave his hand a small squeeze and stopped your tracks. "There’s been something I’ve been wanting to do for the longest.” You admitted as the ice cream in your hands slowly melted from the bright sun above. You continued, “If I have your permission to touch you, will you trust me?”

"You always have my permission, you don't need to ask," Giorno reassured you with a gentle smile, his eyes watching you carefully. As you wrapped one arm around his neck, the distance between your bodies shortened, creating a more intimate atmosphere. Your cheeks were flushed, and the way he met your gaze without much of a reaction made butterflies flutter in your stomach. You felt his arm snake around your waist, and it almost seemed like he knew exactly what you had planned to do next. The anticipation and closeness between you added a thrilling suspense to the moment.

Eventually, the both of you lean in to share a passionate kiss. Much to your pleasure, his lips were soft and so were his hands as it continues to explore the rest of your body. You felt weak in the knees, your hand rested on his chest and once the two of you pulled away you were left starstruck. “Giorno...” “Shall we get going?” The question, simple and gentle, jolted you back to reality, yet the magic of the moment lingered like the afterglow of a sunset. His hand, warm and reassuring, squeezed yours. You nodded your head in response, letting the blonde lead the way as the two of you continue to enjoy the rest of your date.

Jolyne Cujoh

Well, it was more of a dare than something that was just intended. Whenever she was in a good mood, she hardly took herself so seriously, especially when she was messing around with her friends. Though it was pretty easy to break down the tough exterior that she occasionally displays on herself. That’s just how Jolyne is and you admire her for that.

You were seated comfortably on the carpet of your apartment, surrounded by your friends and the lively energy of the gathering. The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, fueled by the risky game you had all decided to play. With each round, bets were placed, and allowances were on the line as you wagered on the most obscure acts and challenges.

However, things took an unexpected turn when Ermes placed a cash bet on Jolyne kissing you. The room fell silent for a moment as everyone's gaze focused on you and Jolyne, the heightened tension palpable as the game appeared to have strayed into personal territory.

“Where’d that even come from? You tryin’ to make fun of us or something?” You asked Ermes, your cheeks felt warm,

Ermes just laughed, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she observed the sudden tension between you and Jolyne. "What? Can't handle a little dare?" she teased, her grin widening at your discomfort. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, especially when you caught Jolyne's eye. Her usually fierce demeanor seemed softened by the flush of embarrassment, making her look unexpectedly vulnerable.

Jolyne let out a deep breath, her gaze shifting from you to Ermes and then back again. "Fine," she finally said, the word coming out more as a challenge than a submission. She leaned closer, her eyes locked with yours, a mix of defiance and something softer you couldn't quite place. The room fell silent, the playful teasing of moments ago replaced by an almost electric anticipation. You could hear your heart beating, loud in the quiet of the room, as Jolyne's face came closer to yours. Her eyes flickered closed, and for a moment, everything else seemed to disappear.

The kiss was brief, a simple press of lips that felt like a spark through your entire body. When she pulled back, her eyes met yours again, searching for a reaction. The room erupted into whistles and laughter from Ermes and Foo Fighters, but both you and Jolyne were caught in a moment of silent communication, a question and answer passing silently between you.

Jolyne broke eye contact first, turning back to face Ermes and the others with a nonchalant shrug. "See? Just a kiss," she said, her voice steady but you noticed the slight pink still coloring her cheeks.

You were left a little dazed, warmth spreading through your chest. Although the kiss was part of the game, it felt like it carried more weight than either of you would admit. As the game continued and the evening wore on, you found yourself stealing glances at Jolyne, wondering if the moment had meant as much to her as it did to you.

Johnny Joestar

Just as he was about to join the big horse race, you had to pull him back a bit as you couldn’t help but worry about his own well being. It was a big deal, people can get way too competitive and you tend to worry over the littlest things. Of course, he had to reassure you that he was gonna be fine and that he would just have to be away for a few days, perhaps a few weeks or even months. The thought of being so far away from him already made you anxious and he noticed this, so he held your hands and looked up into your eyes.

"I'll be fine, promise," he responded, his voice full of confidence and calmness. You wanted to believe in his statements and that he would carefully go through the challenges. You knew deep down that despite the distance and time away, he had the courage and determination to return to you.

Before you could say anything else, an obnoxiously loud horn blared, causing both you and Johnny to flinch. The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, signaling that the horse race was about to commence. You observed Johnny, noticing how his gaze fixated on a man in a hat, attending to a horse. While you were curious about his sudden focus, you decided not to inquire and instead diverted his attention back to you.

You stretched out and cupped his cheek, gently turning his face toward you. The touch was both calming and anchoring, a gentle reminder amidst the chaos of the race. Johnny's gaze met yours, and everything else disappeared into the background. The clamor of the crowd, the excitement of the race, everything went incidental.

In the heat of the moment, you let your body take control as your brain lagged behind. You wrapped your arms around Johnny, pulling yourself closer to his pretty face and eventually your lips locked with his own. You could tell you caught him off guard with the way his body jumped but he immediately melted into the kiss. The world around you seemed to fade into a blur, leaving just the warmth of his lips against yours and the rhythmic beating of your hearts in perfect harmony. It was a frozen moment in time, with every touch and sensation speaking volumes about your relationship.

After the lingering kiss had finally ended, Johnny's lips retained their puckered form for a moment longer, as if trying to capture the essence of the intimate moment. His eyes remained closed, basking in the residual warmth of your embrace. It wasn't until you let out a playful giggle and lightly tapped his cheek that he snapped out of his reverie, realizing that the kiss had come to an end. Johnny's face broke into a sheepish grin as he opened his eyes, the delighted twinkle in them reflecting how deeply he had lost himself in the experience.

"Having fun there, loverboy?" you teased with a playful grin, unable to hide the amusement dancing in your eyes.

"Shut up, and kiss me again before I go for real this time," Johnny mumbled in a half-serious, half-playful tone, already leaning in with closed eyes, anticipating the next kiss. You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully at his eagerness, knowing all too well how much he enjoyed these moments of intimacy.

Granting his wish, you leaned in closer, planting a series of small, teasing pecks on his lips. Each kiss was light and fleeting, just enough to leave him wanting more but sufficient to see the satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Josuke Higashikata (Gappy)

His embrace was overwhelmingly tight, his clinginess something you adored in him, yet you hadn't quite anticipated the sheer strength he possessed. It left you feeling somewhat overpowered, as if you were about to be compressed into nothingness. Your reaction was a series of light giggles, and although you attempted to push him away gently, it only led him to draw you closer once again. Looking down at you, Gappy gently held your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone.

"Josuke, what's gotten into you?" you question playfully about your boyfriend, but Gappy's arms remained tightly around you. Sure, you had grown accustomed to his affection, though it may occasionally take you by surprise with its intensity. You were also aware of his memory loss and continued search for his identity and purpose. Being one of the first people he met after losing his memory, he quickly developed an emotional connection to you, which you accepted wholeheartedly.

“You’re warm...” He muttered quietly, his fingers tracing patterns across your skin, inducing involuntary shivers. His acts toward you were noticeably compassionate, in stark contrast to his usual approach. Really, he had charisma, a natural capacity to attract those around him, as well as characteristics that made him unique. Nonetheless, he was ready to get violent at any given moment. But with you, he was someone completely different. He treated you with tenderness and care that spoke volumes, distinguishing you to be special in his eyes. It was this sharp contrast, this respite from his rougher side, that made you feel sincerely appreciated and cherished.

"Jojo..." Your words was just a whisper, a sweet utterance full of care as you softly lifted your hands, cradling his face with the utmost care.You allowed your eyes to wander over his features, memorizing each detail—the curve of his brow, the depth in his eyes, the subtle strength in his jawline. As you leaned closer, your lips discovered the warmth of his forehead and planted a delicate kiss. With each kiss, you followed a line across his face, from his forehead to his cheek, and finished with a peck on his chin. He reacted with a slight start to your boldness, a small but noticeable jump, yet he remained silent, his eyes speaking volumes of the surprise and warmth he felt.

You wanted to giggle, a sense of satisfaction at getting such a reaction from your boyfriend. You were about to say something witty and sharp, the words almost dancing on your tongue, eager to tease him even more. However, before you could make your smart remark, the scenario took an unexpected turn. His hands, echoing your previous move, rose to gently cup your face. The world seemed to stop for a time as his eyes fluttered shut, sending a subtle indication of his intentions.

Then, with unexpected boldness, he closed the gap between you, pushing his lips against yours in a daring kiss. His unexpected action left your eyes wide open in shock for just a second, leaving an unspoken query hanging in the air. But as the surprise wore off, a warmth flowed through you, and you found yourself easing into the kiss, your body's tension melting away as you reacted with equal passion.

Once the two of you pulled away, you were left breathless, your cheeks were warm and it was hard to really look him in the eyes after such a passionate kiss. You were at a loss for words as well, it was hard to really think about what to say next. It seemed like he was on the same page, his eyes simply looking at yours as he tried to read the expression that you had on your face. Rest assured, there was definitely going to be more kisses after that.

Jodio Joestar

Your frustration was palpable when you stumbled upon him yet again engaged in the act of selling drugs, this time to a group of unfamiliar faces. The sight of him engaging this illicit exchange stirred a flare of anger within you, prompting you to confront him directly. Standing there, your posture rigid with your arms tightly crossed over your chest and a frown etching deep lines of disappointment across your face, you were the picture of discontent.

Jodio, seemingly unconcerned by your appearance or the dissatisfaction etched all over your face, simply snickered to himself dismissively. He nonchalantly shook a baggie full of dollar notes, flaunting the goods of his trade right in front of your eyes, all before he had a chance to properly register your presence or understand the depth of your anger.

"Again?" You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you observed his repetitive behavior. It was a mix of frustration and disappointment that colored your expression, a silent plea for him to understand the significance of his actions. However, his response was careless, with a mere shrug that appeared to indicate a lack of regard for your issues.

"What's the big deal?" he asked, his tone tinged with casualness as he continued walking, dismissing your concerns. He passed you and headed in the direction where Dragona had parked his car. However, you were not going to let him off the hook so easily. You followed closely after him, the mean expression still engraved on your face as you gazed at his back. Your steps were deliberate, each bearing the weight of your frustration you had for him. His relaxed demeanor simply bolstered the urge to confront him and make him realize the weight of his actions that he had on you.

"What's the big deal?" For god's sake, you're a 15-year-old selling drugs to a couple of dickheads!" Your frustration spilled out in words, your voice infused with fear and exasperation. "You'll get in big trouble, and they'll take you away, and—" Before you could continue, you were interrupted by his irritatingly loud yawn. The interruption left you speechless, your eyes narrowing. The boldness of his attitude, yawning as if your issues were nothing more than a little annoyance, was frustrating. "You're unbelievable," you said under your breath, your words filled with disappointment.

"What's unbelievable is that you care so much," he spat back, his tone defiant as he stuffed the bag of cash into his pockets. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you directly. "What? Cat's got your tongue? You're kinda funny," he added with a hint of sarcasm, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Your initial instinct was to lash out, to give voice to the frustration swirling inside you. But in a split second, something shifted, and before you could fully process it, your impulses took over. Without a second thought, you grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and pressed your lips onto his.

The kiss was impulsive, a burst of emotion that manifested in the heat of the moment. You could feel the texture of his slightly chapped lips against yours. It was a surprise even to yourself, this sudden act of intimacy amidst the tension and conflict that had defined your interaction moments ago.

“I’ll… see you around.”

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rafeysbafey · 6 months

Note

hey! i love your fics and was wondering if you could do a fic based on mitskis song ‘my love mine all mine’ ( mostly the part “nothing i do belongs to me”)

I was thinking maybe reader thinks rafe is using her for s-x and maybe she thinks that rafe doesn’t love her and becomes distant?

if you can’t it’s totally okay! 🩷🎅🏻

LOWKEY dont know how to feel abt this fic i feel like i went off track im so sorry in advance

you sat in silence with the comforter pulled up to your chest as your eyes trailed after rafe, watching as he left to start a shower.

no aftercare, no checking to see if you were okay.

‘cause my love is mine, all mine

you and rafe were never dating, is what you had to constantly remind yourself.

but even with the whole ‘friends with benefits’ deal, he would still treat you like his girlfriend.

“coffee for you, m’lady,” he bowed, sticking out his hand to give you an iced latte.

you took it with a funny look, teasing him as you spoke, “is it poisoned?”

he gasped at your response, faking offense with sad eyes.

or when the two of you would lay in comfortable silence after sex, your body fitting perfectly next to his as he drew shapes across your skin.

“you hungry?” he asked, paying attention to how your stomach growled softly.

“only if you are.”

“ill take that as a yes,” he chuckled before grabbing his phone and typing in your favorite take-out restaurant.

but here you were, sitting in his bed by yourself as you listened to the water hit the tiled floor.

i love mine, mine, mine

deciding you weren’t going to wait for him, you slide out the bed and grabbed your clothes that were carelessly thrown across the room.

you didn’t hear much from him the day you left, but when it was close to midnight the next night, your phone pinged.

‘rafeeeeeee’

want 2 come ovr

you decided to ignore his text, not caring to respond as you tossed your phone to the side and continued to watch your show on Netflix.

the weekend went by with you ignoring rafe, leaving the boy confused as he left voicemails asking what was wrong.

it was cheesy, but you guys really didn’t spend even a day apart, always hanging out or sleeping over at each others houses.

you were getting ready for school when you heard a car honk outside, your brows furrowing together before realizing who it was.

rafe always picked you up for school, you just forgot to tell him not to today.

sighing, you answered the front door but froze when you came face to face with the boy, an iced latte in his hand and a frown covering his features.

“you’ve been ignoring me,” he automatically said, hurt laced in his voice as you stood there in silence.

“can we not do this right now?” you asked, voice quiet as if someone else were listening to the conversation.

“i just want to know why my girl hasn’t been responding to my texts or calls.”

your body flinched ever so slightly at the words ‘my girl,’ catching you off guard as you looked at him in shock.

“im not ‘your girl,’ rafe,” you stated, although the quiver in your voice seemed to give it away.

“you’re always my girl-”

“then why have you been treating me so different lately?”

nothing in the world belongs to me

it was his turn to freeze in place, mouth opening to speak but nothing coming out.

“I just-” he cut himself off before running his free hand through his hair, “i just got scared, okay?”

“scared of what?”

“falling in love with you!”

your eyes widened at his confession, rafe’s mouth immediately snapping shut at the realization.

“I shouldn’t have said that- i shouldn’t have said anything.”

“rafe,” you mumbled, eyes searching in his for any sign of regret or bluff.

“you shouldn’t be afraid, i think- no i know,” you corrected, “i know im falling for you.”

his shoulders fell in relief at your response, eyes lighting up as a small blush painted his face.

“really? you’re not just saying that, right?”

you let out a small laugh before shaking your head, “im not.”

“well, will you take this iced latte and make me the happiest man on earth, and be my girlfriend?” he stuck out the cup as he got on one knee.

“rafe you’re making this weird!” you laughed, grabbing both his shoulders and yanking him up.

“but yes, i would love an iced latte.”

“and?” he asked, brow raising as he pretended to get impatient.

“oh, yes i will be your girlfriend.”

but my love mine, all mine, all mine

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron obx #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe fanfic

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shinjisdone · 6 months

Text

When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Everybody Thinks It's Them (3; Octavinelle)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - everyone wants to help you out…but have their own reason for it. Yet now, it seems like there are quite a few misunderstandings on campus...and everyone thinks they have finally found that secret admirer.

Spin-off of the first 'secert admirer’ series + form of headcanons

note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone being mistaken for the secret admirer. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation.]

“Hey…you think he could be the famous admirer of the Ramshakle prefect?”

Tag list: @justm3di0cr3 , @a-small-tyrant , @twistedcece , @savanaclaw1996

1;Heartslabyul

2; Savanaclaw

Azul Ashengrotto:

Euxkrbwöaöwlfffhsk - ???

UHM - wh-what a silly, little rumor! Ho-How, why would anyone think that???

There he goes, laughing awkwardly (almost like a sea witch)

He becomes a bit of a fidgety, awkward mess. Wherever he goes he really tries to uphold his 'cool, poised manner' but it simply fails time and time again when his own dorm theorizes about him being the secret admirer!

They aren't even rumors anymore! People wholeheartedly believe it!

After all, who else but the Azul Ashengrotto would be capable to plan and scheme to such extends? He is a schemer. It is in his nature after all.

If the many infamous tricks up his sleeves does not convince one, certainly his obvious pining for the perfect does.

Azul splutters- wha-wha- whatdoyoumean????

P-pining?! Ah - ahahahHAHAHAHA-JDKYJkekcislfks...

*heavy breathing as he hides himself in his pot*

Jade and Floyd may have just 1% of pity for him but the remaining 99% is spent on laughing at his misery. They are well aware that he is not the secret admirer - after all, the arguements of him being the one are solid, so they checked (not even Azul will take Shrimpy away from them) but kind of knew that he was too much of a coward to even display his affections for you, anonymous or not.

"No! This can't be!" Azul dramatically pants inside his pot, "I-I have to set this right!"

So here comes his plan to convince you that he is not the secret admirer.

Even though "convincing" is an overstatement. He would just be telling you the truth.

He likes you, yes...but Azul wouldn't ever have the courage to do the things the admirer did for you...

Maybe he doesn't deserve you, being the coward that he is...

So, he approaches you in a rather big crowd. Many hoop that Azul is finally going to reveal the identity of the admirer - he himself!

Yet, there is confusion and disappointment. The scheming Ashengrotto, pathetically putty in your hands, is not the one confessing in secret to you?

Azul is flustered beyond belief. Face a sweating, flushed mess as he stutters out the truth.

Well, the one truth besides his feelings for you.

"Ah, prefect...simply to make things c-clear. Your precious, dear s-secret admirer is not me. I can't have such reput-tation on me, for the sake of Mostro Lounge, you understand...I..."

He falters before forming a smile on his pained, red face.

"...I wouldn't do these things for you."

It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts but it has to be done.

He doesnt deserve you. Not a coward like him...but more like a brave hero.

Jade Leech

Oh my...is everyone this stupid?

Finds the whole ordeal funny. It is flattering in a way to be compared to the secret admirer, the one who seems to have your heart in their hands, but his dorm truly couldn't be that dumb, right?

No evidence whatsoever...just basing it all on his almost picture-perfect attitude.

Which is as flexible as the waves.

Definitely messes with the rest of the school. Oh, is he the admirer now or not? Hm, perhaps. Perhaps not.

Jade finds pleasure in tricking everyone in his usual fashion. However...

He'll have to realize that all good things come to an end. He will absolutely girlboss gatekeep gaslight mess with everyone but he cannot give you any doubts.

No, no. Jade likes to tease you but this whole ordeal of keeping a false identity would just hurt you. And Jade would never hurt you.

"My, my, Prefect...seems like everyone in the school caught the fungi. They believe me to be the secret admirer...flattering but I assure you, if I wanted to, I would have long conquered your heart."

Floyd Leech

HAHAHAHHAHA

Are you serious? Really, really serious?! Oh, this is hilarious!

You must be so dumb!

Floyd cannot stop laughing - guffawing, cackling, snickering, giggling- the whole stick. It is beyond funny that not even one, not two, not three but the majority think him to be the secret admirer!

Wjajfkwnq? Are you stupid? No, seriously, are you?

Have you seen Floyd? Experienced Floyd? The guy's a ticking time bomb full of unpredictability! He may do many things commit crimes if only he could :( but anyone with a brain knows he would not ever pull a 'secret admirer' stunt!

Floyd holds no secrets. His feelings are not secret. Especially his admiration for you.

Well, admiration is a strong word. More like, adoration? Fascination? End to his boredom???

Is it love when he tackles you from behind and hugs you so tight your spine threatens to snap?

Is it love when he lets you off the hook though and protects you from unwanted attention, students and situations? By becoming the bigger problem

It's a bit of a mystery...but what is sure is that unlike his brother, Floyd laughs at the faces of those who believe instead of taking it to his advantage to mess with them.

He won't even really bother to correct any of them, let alone give you any reassurance. He might break it to you unprompted and rather involuntarily.

"Ne, Shrimpy...these guppies are super funny but so dumb. They seriously think I did all that lovey-dovey stuff for you! Kyehehe! Don't they know that I already love you~?"

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #gender neutral imagine #twisted wonderland x reader #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #twst secret admirer #Secret Admirer

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dustofthedailylife · 1 year

Text

Cereal Debates

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: You get the urge to tease your boyfriend every once in a while. And today was another day like that. And what better way to do that than to bring up the age-old question: Is cereal soup?

Tags: Crack, a bit of fluff toward the end

A/N: I wrote this like a possessed woman when I thought about the idea. Especially since Alhaitham HATES soup... and don't we all want to rile him up at times? I sure as hell do, especially since he made me lose three 50/50s on his banner now -.-

You sat on the sofa in the living room, flipping through the daily newspaper and eating a bowl of yogurt with fruits for breakfast.

You suddenly hear the floorboards in the direction of the bedroom creak and not too long after you could hear a yawn and some feet shuffling towards the living room.

“Good Morning.” Alhaitham groaned sleepily.

He rubbed his eyes and squinted as soon as he was faced with the morning sun falling in through the windows. He had always been somewhat of a morning grump and to be honest, it sort of made him look cute.

The disheveled hair and clothes, the imprint of his pillow still on his cheek, the sleepy expression, and the frown as he slurped his coffee in silence every morning. It took all your willpower not to jump and squeeze him tightly. No one would think someone like Alhaitham could manage to look so adorable, but you had proof he did.

“Good Morning! Slept well?”

“Mhm.” He hummed briefly before vanishing into the kitchen without another word. Like mentioned before - morning grump.

You could hear him press the button on the coffee machine before a familiar buzzing sound could be heard from the same device. He seemed to also get himself something to eat since you could hear him clink some bowls together.

Not long after, he emerged from the kitchen with a steaming cup of black coffee and a bowl in hand and sat down at the dining table.

When you decided to join him, your eyes couldn’t help but fall onto the bowl. It was a bowl of cornflakes that he was expressionlessly shoveling into his mouth.

You amusedly bit your lip because you knew he usually hated everything soup-like, and cereal was no exception to that. And you sometimes couldn’t help but want to tease him a little. And this morning the perfect opportunity presented itself to you.

“Never thought I’d see the day you'd eat soup out of your own volition.” You smirked, knowing full well that you said “soup” and not “cereal”.

“We had no more bread left.” He explained with another grumble, putting another spoon full of cornflakes in his mouth before suddenly pausing in his movement and looking back at you completely irritated. “What did you say?” He inquired horrified, with his mouth still half-full.

“I said, I never thought I see you eat soup voluntarily.”

He knitted his brows further before gulping and pointing at his bowl. “This is cereal.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of what it is. I have eyes. Cereal can be considered a soup-like dish.” You stated matter of factly as you bit back a smirk.

You pretended to go back to eating your yogurt and reading your newspaper but you could see his completely shocked and low-key annoyed expression from the corner of your eye.

“Cereal is not soup. Cereal is cereal.” He grumbled.

“Is that so?” You raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Yes. Soup is a liquid food, especially with meat, fish, or vegetable stock as a base and often contains pieces of solid food.” He recited the definition he knew, only Archons know where, from. Suppressing laughter became harder and harder by the minute, especially seeing how serious he was taking this debate all of a sudden.

“Especially with meat, fish, or vegetable…”, you pondered putting an emphasis on the first word. “So that means it is mostly cooked that way but not always. So milk can serve as a base just as fine. And technically if you use soy milk or pea milk it would count as vegetable stock, no?”

You could see the muscles in his jaw tense as he gazed at you, thinking hard of what to reply. You could practically see the gears turn in his head before he started to smirk triumphantly. You knew him well enough to know that he must’ve come up with, what he thought was, an irrefutable argument.

“There is something you just said. Cooked. No heating in the process of making a bowl of cereal whatsoever. It’s served cold - therefore it isn’t soup.” He leaned back in the chair with a self-satisfied grin, expecting you not to be able to counter his argument further.

But he shouldn’t count the chickens before they’re hatched.

You stayed silent for a minute and already had a counterargument in your head from the get-go. You just wanted to wait until he took a sip from his coffee before you dropped it.

“Explain Gazpacho then.”

You could see his eyes widen and train on you over the rim of his cup before he put it back on the table with a loud thud. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking annoyed once more.

“What about French Vichyssoise? Also not soup according to you, just because they’re served cold?”

“Okay, I get it.” He grumbled once again, before pondering for a brief moment. “But all of these soups have something in common.”

“Oh? Please enlighten me, Grand Sage.” You continued your teasing.

“It’s Acting Grand Sage.” He emphasized, lightly rolling his eyes with a huff. “But anyway. Soup isn’t sweet. Neither of the ones you named is sweet. They’re savory. Cereal is always sweet.”

He smirked at you once again, fully believing he now had you cornered.

Wrong.

“Ginataang Bilo-Bilo, Koldskål, Zenzai…” You started listing sweet soup dishes from all over the world, watching how his face showed an ever-so-slight hint of surprise as well as horror.

“Now you’re just making things up.” He huffed.

“Want me to show you the soup recipe book we have over there on the shelf? Not that you ever looked at it.” You replied with a teasing lilt.

He had his hand clutched so tightly around his spoon by now that his knuckles were beginning to turn white. You knew he hated losing arguments and battles of wits and this wasn’t going in the direction he had imagined at all. Much to your amusement, however. You could practically see little clouds of steam rise from his head because his brain was racing at a million miles per hour. You just knew he was wrecking his brain to come up with a counterargument once again.

“Okay.” he finally said getting up and grabbing something from the kitchen. He came back with a triumphant smile as he placed a raw, unpeeled potato on the table in front of you.

“What’s this?” He asked, motioning in your direction.

“A… potato?” You replied in confusion, unsure where he was trying to go with this.

“Correct.” He nodded, putting one finger on his chin after placing a bowl of dry cereal right next to it and looking at you expectantly.

“That’s cereal.”

“Also correct.”

“Alhaitham, I’m not sure I follow.” You raised an eyebrow at him, still highly amused about how invested he was in this crack debate.

“A potato is a condiment you can make soup from. But a potato by itself is just that - a potato. You have to prepare it in a special way in order for it to become soup. The same goes for everything else you named. Cereal is always cereal, whether it swims in milk, water, broth, or nothing at all.”

“Okay, fair. Can’t refute that argument.” You admitted with a nod, hearing a small sigh of relief from the other side of the table.

You were no longer able to hold back your laughter now that you looked at his borderline exhausted and relieved expression.

“What? Don’t tell me you still have a counterargument?” He inquired as his eyes widened.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t. You should see your face right now though, it’s hilarious. I was just trying to tease you a bit, I didn’t think you’d get this invested.” You wiped a tear out of the corner of your eyes as you continued giggling.

“You–” He grumbled playfully as he clenched his jaw before he started smiling. “Come here!”

He got up from his chair and lifted you out of yours, walking over to the sofa, and throwing you down it together with himself. He started tickling your sides while holding you tightly to his chest so you couldn’t escape his playful attack.

Out of breath from laughing so much you leaned your forehead against his chest before snaking your arms around him.

“I love you, you dork.”

“I love you, too.” He replied, lifting your chin up and pressing a featherlight kiss on your lips. “Even if you start arguments about soup with me first thing in the morning. You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

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chrattenthusiast · 6 months

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hii can u do a smut femxmatt fic where they meet at a party and they like are kinda drunk and matt’s really flirty and touchy and they just end up fucking!! ty!!!

AN: yes but with a slight twist hope you aren't mad at me ;/ (This was inspired by a fanfic i read a while back, but i added a lil sprinkle) this is gonna be the last angsty smut I write for a while!!! the world is healing yay.

warnings: slightly rougher smut, alcohol, slightly toxic matt, not proofread, longish

AFTERPARTY - Matt sturniolo

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Entering the house, you found it filled with a thick haze of smoke, and intoxicated individuals occupied every corner. Taking it all in, you absorbed the chaotic atmosphere of the house party.

You spot the drinks lined up on the kitchen counter smiling instantly, your face lit up with anticipation as you instinctively reached for two shot glasses, intending to share the experience with your friend. Carefully, you poured the potent liquid into the glasses, aware of the complex emotions it always evoked within you - a simultaneous blend of affection and unease.

Taking a swig of the shot, a wince breaks across your face as you taste the acrid burn. Your friend, mirrors your grimace. Yet, undeterred by the bitter flavor, they reach for the bottle, repeating the action twice.

The room erupts with loud cheers from the other end of the house, where a spirited game of beer pong is in full swing. You see the excitement in your friend's eyes, knowing just how competitive she is. Urging her to join in, it takes a little convincing, but you assure her that you'll be perfectly fine on your own.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings in the house after pouring yourself a generous serving of alcohol. You make a deliberate choice not to mix it with anything, recognizing that doing so might result in an unsightly aftermath the next day.

Your phone buzzes, and with a sense of urgency, you swiftly reach for it. As your eyes scan the text message and the identity of the sender, your eyebrows knit together in a perplexed expression.

Matthew: you look so good, but you should slow down.

The text message verified the sensation of being watched. Instantly, your eyes scanned the surroundings, desperately seeking the presence that had captured your attention. Instantly locking eyes with him, you found him in the midst of individuals with whom you had limited conversations with. His gaze lowered as he held a drink cradled in his hand. You observed him while his eyes traced every contour of your body. Gradually, he raised the cup to his lips, taking a sip, his gaze remained fixed on your face.

The agreement between both of you was to keep things uncomplicated, though you disliked deceiving the ones you cared about, but deep down, you cherished the moments alone with him, away from others imposing their opinions on your 'relationship.'

He thought differently however, he wasn't planning on telling anyone about the two of you- although he was close to telling his two brothers about it- he liked the arrangement between the two of you, sneaking around, but mostly he wanted to 'protect your peace', away from his world of a sane but crazy fan base- he loved how the both of you pretend to not know of each other in public. but in private you were his, the same girl that always found yourself tangled under him

The sudden awareness loomed, casting a shadow over the quickly consumed alcohol's impact, and a wave of jealousy welled up inside. It bothered you that he seemed calm and indifferent, apparently unaffected by your need to be near him all the time. As usual, you pushed these emotions down, steering clear of further complicating the already complex situation. Yet, despite your efforts, the persistent realization lingered that this arrangement might not end well. In hindsight, you recognized that you should have probably considered the options before agreeing to such an arrangement.

Taking a sharp breath, you tucked your phone back into the waistband of your skirt, purposefully ignoring his text. Opting for a rapid consumption of a mix of assorted alcoholic drinks, you winced at the disagreeable taste. Turning your focus to the right, you caught sight of a guy in your peripheral vision. It took a moment to recognize his face.

"Hi," he greeted the instant he realized your gaze had landed on him.

"Hey," you replied, aiming to keep the conversation brief while maintaining a sense of respect.

And, of course, Matt observed from a distance. Despite once being enthusiastically engaged in the conversation,He now leaned back, adopting a manspreading position nodding as though still interested in the ongoing discussion. However, there was a noticeable tightening of his grip on his phone.

You nodded your head, forcing a smile at the guy, giving the appearance of genuine interest in his conversation. However, deep down, all you craved for was to escape the confines of the house, retreat to your bed, and wallow in the misery of your self-destruction. The weight of how you'd once again managed to sabotage everything for yourself loomed heavily on your mind.

Your attention shifted to your friend, and you couldn't help but notice the wide smile on her face. It seemed she was genuinely pleased to see you stepping outside your comfort zone and engaging in a conversation with the guy, her grin widening when she observed his arm touching your waist. Matt, too, noticed her reaction. He had heard about her in the extensive conversations you shared with him, during those moments when he played with your hair, absorbing every word you uttered. You spoke of her with deep love and adoration, and silently, he harbored a resentment that you couldn't speak of him in the same way to her. He cherished the importance of loved ones, and selfishly, he hated that he wasn't on your list.

What he hated even more was how you didn't pull away from the guy's touch, especially when he left lingering squeezes, emphasizing his words—just like he would. His gaze remained fixed on both of you, observing as the guy incessantly carried on with his conversation. Your irritation grew, and the breaking point came when he flagrantly crossed the line by violating your personal space- and is left dumbfounded when you cut him mid way muttering a poor excuse- speed walking away from him.

You step into what seems to be a hallway, choosing the first door and entering a dimly lit, spacious bathroom. Your hands find their way to the edges of the sink, and you lean down, allowing the exhaustion of the events to wash over you. The bathroom door opens and shuts, prompting your eyes to snap toward the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with Matt.

Leaning against the bathroom door with lowered eyes, Matt takes in your appearance. His gaze is fixated on your skirt, noticing how it's slightly hunched up due to you leaning over the sink.

"you get my text earlier?" he asks, returning his gaze to your face.

"Yeah, I got it. I was pretty occupied, though," you reply, turning your body to face him

"yeah? I couldn't tell" he replies laced with sarcasm.

You nod in response, and he begins to walk toward you. Instinctively, you move backward, feeling your lower back hit the counter. His arms trap you on both sides, eliminating any distance between you.

"you avoiding me now? Is that what's happening?"He says, leaning down to meet you at eye level.

The close proximity makes it a bit challenging for you to breathe properly. So, you turn your head to the side, suddenly finding the patterns on the wall much more interesting, despising how calm and collected he appeared- how much control he has over your mind, despite numerous reassurances from him. You can't help but wonder if the only time you get to be intimate is away from others because you question whether he's more concerned about being seen with you than genuinely "protecting your peace."

"Stop that," he says, aware that your mind is racing at full speed.

Your eyes finally meet his gaze, and it's unclear how long the intense stare has lasted. Matt is the first to break eye contact, stepping back. His hands move to the bathroom lock, twisting the metal and securing it.

"Classic," you mutter, still grappling with your self-sabotaging thoughts.

"what was that?" he says

"we're not doing anything in here " you reply ignoring his question

"Who said we were going to? We're just having a conversation"

"you look pretty" he continues due to your silence

"yeah? I've heard" Confidently fueled by the liquor, You aimed to provoke him, fully aware that he had seen you talking to the guy. What added to the satisfaction was knowing he wasn't pleased that you entertained the conversation, you turn your body to face the mirror again. Purposefully grinding your ass against his groin, already feeling the hardness.

"You having a change of heart, I thought we couldn't do anything?" he says,pressing you further against the counter. The cold marble makes you shiver.

You tilt your head to the side as you feel his hands brush up against the back of your thighs, making their way to the skimpy material of your underwear, smiling once he felt how soaked you were

lifting the bottom of your skirt to rest on your lower back he delivers a harsh slap to your ass, making you smile at how quick he is to give you what you want.

His hands grab your hair, bunching it up and pushing it to the side. Sneaking his hands around your torso, he plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

" you want this? you gotta be quiet though might be hard for you huh " he snarked

"fuck you" you reply annoyed with his snarky comment

"yeah i'm sure you'd like that, now wouldn't you" he pulls you flush against his chest,placing a gentle kiss to your temple, his hand palming your wetness, making you lean further onto his chest, your head settling in the crook of his neck

"Always so needy for me aren't you sweetheart" he whispers causing you to meet his gaze through the mirror. "I got what you want right here" he adds pressing himself harder against you

he pushes your underwear to the side, circling your swollen clit causing you to grip the edges of the sink harder, his hands make his way to the small of your back wanting you to arch further into him.

His fingers part from your entrance, causing a whine to escape your lips at the lack of his touch, You hear the sound of his belt being undone, and that sound alone intensifies the warmth between your thighs. you look at him through the polished glass as his hands make his way to your ass, grabbing your backside spreading it apart slightly giving him a full view of your wetness.

He positions himself at your entrance, guiding the tip of his shaft along the slickness of your wetness in an up and down motion , all the while maintaining eye contact and loving the needy expression you wear.

You start to turn around to beg him to fill you, but your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as he thrusts himself completely inside you, your head falls back in sheer delight, finally experiencing the sensation you've yearned for throughout the past couple of weeks. his thrusts are soft wanting you to get used to him

At that moment, he withdraws entirely, leaving just the tip inside you and then thrusting fully inside you without any warning. This elicits small moans from your lips, pulling you closer to him, and his grip around your waist tightens. The pace of his thrusts quicken, and you make every effort to stifle any sounds

Your fingers brush against his hands wanting to gain stability and comfort from his touch with him plunging inside you, it's a pleasurable ache, so intense that tears well up in your eyes. His lips move to tenderly kiss the top of your head, seeking to reciprocate the affectionate touch you crave. He gently squeezes your waist. In that moment. This action alone prompts a recollection towards the person who did the same to you just minutes ago, and his gaze narrows toward that specific spot.

his grip on that spot hardens, causing you to slightly wince knowing that it'll bruise later, you turn to look at Matt, but his fingers grasp your chin forcing you to look at yourself taking everything he gave you, his grip never leaves your face and you moan at the change in pace. It was overwhelming. and a smile was plastered on his face at the way he was breaking you, leaving you dumbfounded

"do you know who you belong to " he asks, his cheek coming into contact with yours. his soft hair brushes against your skin, pushing himself deeper inside you

"You matt"

" You positive ? " he asks moving your head to look at him, forcing eye contact while his thrusts get sloppier but deeper,not slowing down his pace, the feeling in your belly worsens.

"yes I promise"

His hips thrust against your backside, and you instinctively tighten around him, wanting to avert your gaze from his compelling eyes. You resist giving in to the impression that he has complete control over you. However, you find it impossible to look away as his firm grip on your face prevents any movement. Your hands grip his arm in a pleading gesture, silently urging him to allow you to finally reach climax.

He hates how delicate and kind you are, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you from any potential harm. He hates that he might be the cause of your emotional distance, fueled by the fear that his lifestyle could be too much for you to handle.

"don't get all shy now, you were confident when you let him touch you remember?"

"I'm sorry," you respond immediately, but he knows you're not to blame. Despite not being officially together, he doesn't care; in his mind, you belong to him, and he's determined to prove it. His thrusts show no signs of slowing down, and your hands instinctively move to the back of his head for support, irregardless of the tight grip he has around you

"If you ever let another man touch you the way that I do, you'll pay. got it?" you nod unable to articulate a response as your mind remains blank.

"Say it"

"yes matt" you choked.

he attaches his lips onto yours, for the first time in weeks and it shows how much you've missed each other, it was rough enough to bruise your lips His hand releases its hold on your waist, finding its way to your neck, exerting subtle pressure. He teeth delicately tugs at the bottom of your lip before letting go of his grip, ultimately granting you the freedom to lean fully against his chest.

he leans his head against yours, wanting to be as close to you letting you relax for a second until he's back at it, his fingers make their way to your swollen bud. The most audible sob escapes your lips as his fingers trace in circular motions, gently pinching the swollen area with his thumb and pointer finger.

"fuck i c-cant matt"

“you’re taking me so well baby, just a little longer for me " he replies to your plea, grabbing your hips to push back against his length, Handling you firmly, his fingers persist in vigorously rubbing your bud in circular motions, You thrash around him, overwhelmed by the intensity, but his grip around you prevents any escape,

"tell me how bad you want it " he says slowing down his thrusts, wanting you to suffer a little as his fingers skillfully work around the sensitive area, making you pant with the pleasant sensation. You squirm in response, caught between the pleasure and the firm grip that holds you in place.

"Really bad matt please" You cry in frustration, mascara staining your cheeks as you let the tears fall.

"come for me sweetheart" he encourages

Without a moment's hesitation, you comply with his command, and you feel yourself release all over him messily, Matt's hands swiftly move to your mouth muffling your sounds.

"That's it baby let it all out for me "

Your grip around his shaft is so intense that his body can only endure so much. His arms envelop every available inch of your body as he grapples to suppress his own noises.

you feel his release fill you, mixed with yours slowly spilling out from inside you and the sight alone cause him to harden. He gazes at your disheveled appearance, giving you continuous slow thrust, that drag out your orgasm, with smudged mascara running down your eyes and tousled hair. you may feel like a mess, to him, you appear vulnerable, and he likes that.

"you okay?" he asks

you curse him inwardly for consistently diverting your focus from reality. Both of you understand that this unhealthy pattern could lead to a disastrous outcome if left unaddressed. If either of you could set aside fear and selfishness, the nights wouldn't be consumed by your overthinking and He wouldn't harbor resentment towards those who are able to openly express their affections for you.

"yeah, you okay?" you ask him

A chance to resolve the indifference between you two presented itself, and he silently contemplated the options. The desire to admit his true feelings for you lingered, but the overwhelming fear held him back. He acknowledged that one day he might gather the courage, but for now, he selfishly preferred to keep things behind closed doors. He knew that he was being selfish, yet the thought of having you in any capacity seemed preferable to the prospect of losing you completely. Yet again, what started as a complicated situation only deepened in complexity.

"yeah" he replies leaning his head against yours, as he began to pull out from inside you slowly.

He hurriedly dresses, securing his belt, you make your way to the door, preparing to unlock it. Just as you're about to, he gently grabs your arm, pulling you close and placing his hand on your waist. "Are we really okay?" he asks, searching your eyes with a mix of concern and longing.

"mhm, i'll see you around?" swiftly, you reply and proceed to unlock the door The grip Matt has on your waist loosens, and the subtle detachment tugs at your heartstrings, leaving a slow ache.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

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