#every month. every fucking month something happens

[sescoups]

on my knees - choi seungcheol

masterlist

summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?

word count: ~9k oops

a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.

18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!

warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!

You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.

“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.

Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.

“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”

Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.

The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.

Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.

Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.

It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.

Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.

You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.

One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.

“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.

“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”

“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.

“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”

“Cool. Where to?”

“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”

You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”

“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”

“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.

Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.

You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.

The water.

You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.

The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.

“What’s up?”

Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.

“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.

“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”

“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”

You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don’t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.

You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.

Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.

You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.

“What the hell, Y/N.”

The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?

“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”

“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”

His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.

“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.

“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”

For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help.  “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”

You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.

When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.

You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.

Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.

You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.

“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.

“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.

“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”

He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”

Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.

“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”

He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.

Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”

He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.

Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.

After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”

“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.

Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.

Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.

“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”

“Please tell me you have food.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.

When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.

“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.

“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”

He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.

“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”

“9.30.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.

“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.

“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.

“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”

“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.

“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.

“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.

“Yeah, Cheol.”

“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”

“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”

“What about Chan?”

“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”

Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.

“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”

A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.

“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.

“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you… serious?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”

“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.

“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”

“Hey!”

“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“Look, I don’t-”

“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”

Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.

His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.

“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.

“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.

This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.

“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”

You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.

You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.

He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.

“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.

“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”

You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.

“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”

He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.

You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.

“Cheol-”

“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.

“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.

When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.

“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.

“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”

Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?

“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.

The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.

With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.

“May I, baby? Please?”

“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.

You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.

“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”

He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.

“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”

Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.

“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”

“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.

You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.

His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.

Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?

When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.

“I- you can’t.”

“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”

“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”

His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.

“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”

“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”

“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”

You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.

As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.

“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”

His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.

As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.

He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.

Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.

Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.

In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.

“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.

Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.

Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.

You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.

You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.

“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.

“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.

You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.

“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”

You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.

“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”

“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.

“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.

“I would love nothing more.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”

It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.

Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.

“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.

“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”

a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3

masterlist

#svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #svt fic #svt fanfic #sescoups writes

[evie-sturns]

Please - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you've never been interested in sex, not until you met your boyfriend matt. when you ask him to take your virginity he obviously gives you what you ask for.

contains: virgin!reader, gentle!matt, virginity loss, fluff, smut, aftercare, fingering.

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i'm a virgin, it's not like i have a real reason for it, but i've never found a guy i could trust.

matt and i have been dating for 2 months and we've done just about everything, execpt for hooking up. matt's never pushed me to do anything which i appreciate. but now that i've got to know matt i've been craving him, his touch.

7:29pm

i cuddle close to matt's side in bed as i stare at his phone, i watch him scroll through tiktok aimlessly.

i look up at matts side profile, a light stubble spread across his jaw. his blue eyes are locked on his screen.

i move my leg over matt's, shifting closer to him so my crotch is pressed against the side of his leg.

i sigh lightly, closing my eyes as i feel a heat grow between my thighs.

it's the way matt's lips are red, almost begging to be kissed that turns me on.

i don't even realise it, but i'm pathetically rubbing my clit against his leg.

"you okay sweetheart?" matt whispers from above me,

"what-? no i'm fine." i play it off,

matt places his phone down before shifting up, his back resting against the headboard.

matt grabs me under my arms and drags me up onto his lap, i straddle him and look down at him

matt just stares into my eyes like hes waiting for me to say something.

"matt.." i mutter, fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants.

he looks at my lips, nodding understandably.

"i think that i want you to touch me, i- i need you." i say softly,

matt rubs his eyes, hes clearly flustered.

"what?" he says with a small laugh.

"matt don't make me say it again." i sigh, reaching my hands up and covering my face.

"tell me what you want and i'll give it to you y/n." matt says, grabbing my wrists and tugging them away from my pink face.

i hesitate for a second before speaking

"i want you to fuck me matt." i spit out, matt smiles lightly

"i can definitely do that for you," matt speaks, earning a playful slap from me.

matt reaches for the hem of my shirt, tugging it lightly. i grab his hand to stop him for a second.

"matt- i'm a virgin." i whisper, matt's eyes widen

"thats okay! thats perfectly fine." matt nods, making me feel better. "are you sure you want to do this? we don't have to if you're not ready."

"i don't really know what i'm doing." i mumble, matt nods before grabbing my chin, making me look at him.

i adjust myself on matt's lap to make myself comfortable.

"do you ever.. touch yourself?" matt asks quietly,

"um- i don't know." i reply shyly.

"you don't know?" he teases, earning a small giggle from me.

"yes- yeah i do, shut up-" i laugh, "how often?" matt asks

"every week or so- maybe." i whisper, matt nods before sitting up off the headboard.

he stands up, holding me up by my ass as he starts to mark up my neck with hickeys. matt lays me down on the matress and takes a step back. he reaches out his cold hand to the waistband of my sweat-shorts.

"can i take these off pretty girl?" he asks softly, i nod frantically "yeah- yes."

he slowly slides my shorts down my thighs, keeping a straight face the whole time.

he chucks them to the side of the room, i dont waste time to tug off my shirt aswell,

leaving me in my matching white lace bra and panties on the bed under matt, suddenly the realisation hits that this is actually happening. i shoot up into a seated position quickly,

"hey- you okay?" matt laughs slightly,

"matt" my voice wobbles, concern washes over his face.

"whats going baby-?" he speaks with worry laced in his voice

"im scared." i whisper out, he sits down on the bed next to me, "what if it hurts- and i'm not gonna be good at this matt- i don't know what to do well" i ramble out

"you don't have to be good, you dont have to do anything, you can just lay back and i'll talk you through it, would you like that?" matts voice is gentle,

"and it won't hurt, i promise."

i nod with a shaky sigh, he grabs my jaw and presses his lips against mine.

"right- so what's going to happen is i'm going to stretch 'ya out a little first is that okay?" matts tone is more gentle and understanding now.

"okay." i mumble, laying back on the matress as my legs dangle off the edge of the bed.

matt kneels between my legs, he gently pulls my panties down my legs while his cold finger tips trace circles on my inner thighs.

"you're gonna take two fingers for me?" matt says, i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip with a small giggle.

he presses the pad of his finger against my hole, he slowly pushes his large finger inside of me.

the cold metal of his rings against the warmth of my walls makes me squirm already.

matt doesnt waste time to push another finger inside of me, the stretch burns.

i've only ever fingered myself, my fingers are significantly smaller than matts so the feeling is different.. better.

he curls his fingers inside of me, repeatedly hitting a spot which is making the knot in my stomach clench.

"matt- oh my god!" i whimper out as he spreads his fingers apart inside of me. "it feels so good-" i babble,

i squeeze my eyes shut,

my eyes instantly spring back open as i feel matt's soft lips against my clit.

my hands instantly find there way to his brunette locks, my fingers intertwine into them.

i clench around his fingers again as he curls them

suddenly he pulls out of me, edging me completley

"matt!-" i start to protest, but he shushes me

"sh- sh i know, don't want you to cum yet cause we don't want to overstimulate you baby" matt says softly, tugging down his sweatpants.

there is a various obvious bulge in his sweatpants, i squeeze my thighs together as i look at it. matt runs a hand through his hair before tugging down his boxers, letting them fall to his ankles.

i sit up on my elbows as i stare at his erection, he is big.

very big.

"matt- how is that meant to fit inside of me- you said it wasn't going to hurt" i start to ramble, matt lets out a small laugh

"don't boost my ego." he laughs while rubbing his eyes

"matt seriously! the most i've ever had was your fingers which was like- 2 minutes ago!" i whine

"you'll be okay, i promise" matt chuckles,

"just lay back for me, you can hold my hand." matt says,

holding matt's hands and fingers have always been an anxiety response for me, he knows its comforting to me thats why he lets me whenever i'm scared.

he grabs my hand as i lay back, he grabs his base with his spare hand and lines himself up with me. "are you sure?" he asks again,

"yes- please!" i say impatiently,

he presses his tip, but nothing happens. "are you in?" i breathe out, he shakes his head

matt hesitates for a second before letting my hand go, he walks over to his closet.

"what-" i whisper, he turns back around with a bottle of lube in his hand which he holds shyly.

"its not gonna be comfortable for you if we don't have this." matt says to me as he squeezes some of the cold liquid out onto my folds

he reaches down and spreads some on his length, "lets try this again" he laughs.

matt grabs my hand again before pushing inside of me, i let out a wince.

"you're doing so well, so good for me baby, you've taken the tip." matt praises me,

"do you want more?" he asks teasingly, "yes- please" i beg

matt presses further into me, my walls stretch around him as i let out loud moans, somewhat pleasured but also a mix of pain.

he finally bottoms out, a low whimper falling from his red lips. "are you feeling okay?" his voice shakes

"i- i don't know." i laugh slightly, "do you want me to move?" matt asks, rubbing my fingers with his hand.

"yes- i think so" i smile at him stupidly before matt thrusts, he does small thrusts, being careful not to go too deep.

"you are- so fucking tight." matt says under his breath.

after several thrusts the pain goes away, now pleasure coarses through my body.

"i- oh my fuck, this feels s-so good" i stammer,

"youre taking me so well, you know you are." he says, locking eyes with me.

"you feel so good around me princess, so so good." matt's voice wobbles, he's holding back everything he has to not cum now.

i arch my back with a pathetic moan, feeling a familiar feeling in my stomach come back. matt places an arm by my head, caging me slightly.

"matt- oh fuck" i whine, squeezing his hand impossibly tight. i feel matt's dick twitch inside of me as his cheeks flush red.

abrubtly the knot in my stomach snaps, i didn't even realise it was coming until it did.

i clench hard around matt and feel warmth flow through my whole body, i release with a loud scream of his name as i claw at his back.

matt pulls out almost instantly, painting my chest and neck with white, my eyes widen as i sit up, but i instantly fall back down onto my back,

"shit i- i am so sorry for that aim" matt laughs

he reaches his palm out and wipes my neck clean, before collapsing down next to me.

"i love you so much matt" i mumble sleepily.

"i love you too princess" matt grins, pulling me close to his side. he pecks my face with kisses.

"im sorry for finishing so fast, i didn't even know it was coming-" i start up, matt shuts me up with a hand over my mouth

"im actually glad you finished fast, i was literally battling inner demons to not finish as soon as i started fucking you." matt breathes out.

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@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover r @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21

[cobaltperun]

Breathless

Bottom Tara Carpenter x top female Reader (Smut, minors DO NOT interact)

Strap-on, Reader being kinda dom? Slight overstimulation, usual stuff really.

Right, much like Lost in your eyes this is basically Lost 19.5 (It also happens before the first flashback scene of Lost 20) though, as long as you ignore the few details it can be read as a stand-alone.

Lost Masterlist

Word count: 2.4k

It’s been almost two months since Bailey tried to kill your family, since you nearly bleed out due to stab wounds and a rusty rebar going through you. You survived, and you were recovering at a fairly good pace, but it was a close call, too close for both your and Tara’s liking.

Your eyes still glanced down at the scar from the rebar when you stepped out of the shower. It came in through your lower back and went diagonally, exiting your body just beneath your chest and it was nothing short of a miracle that nothing important was damaged and that only the scar remained. Sighing, you grabbed your clothes and put them on, a comfortable shirt that was a bit loose on you now, since you still haven’t regained all of your muscles, and tracksuit pants since you wanted to just relax with Tara.

The moment you joined Tara in your bedroom she threw her arms around you and pulled you into a kiss. She clutched the back of your shirt and ran her fingers through your hair, tugging gently as she deepened the kiss. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, and you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her as close to you as physically possible.

"So needy," you chuckled when she pulled back for a moment, a string of saliva still connected your and Tara’s lips.

"Like you aren't?" she challenged, looking fiercely into your eyes and you felt a shiver run down your spine at the look in her eyes.

It’s been a bit too long, between your busy schedule before all of you were attacked, and then your recovery and all the other things that required your and Tara’s attention it’s easily been two months since you last made love. "Mhm, I definitely am," you admitted as you leaned down, kissing her neck.

"Baby," she moaned when you nipped at the side of her neck and you immediately pulled back, looking at her wide-eyed. Tara blushed but kept looking at you. "Baby, please," she said again, acting as if she never stopped saying that word all the while gently caressing the back of your neck.

"Say it again," you demanded, lifting her up, taking a few steps to the side and pushing her against the wall. You could feel her pressing her body against yours and wrapping her legs around you. You looked at her face, at her lower lip stuck between her teeth as her cheeks turned dark red.

"Baby," she moaned into your ear as you unbuttoned the top buttons of her, previously your, button-up shirt and yanked it down, and since it was way too big for her it just fell from her shoulders.

"Again, Love," you needed to keep hearing her say it.

"Baby!" she cried out, maybe even a bit too loudly as you began kissing her bare shoulders and tugging the straps of her bra down, but with the shirt still on it was a bit of a hustle to do what you wanted.

“I need you,” you hissed, desperate for her consent to take it further, to strip her in every sense of that word, to make love to her and make her cum until either of you couldn’t take it anymore.

Tara made you lift your head up and looked you in the eyes. “Yeah? So do something about it, fuck me hard,” she pulled you in for a brief, passionate kiss. “Harder than ever befo-oh fuck, Y/N!” she cried out, gasping as you unzipped her jeans and slipped your hand into her panties.

Taking her jeans off would take too much time, taking any bit of her clothing would take too much time, and you didn’t want to spend one extra second without Tara coming undone in your arms. You hastily unbuttoned the shirt just enough to lift her bra up. And you lifted her up higher so you didn’t have to lean down too much to pull her nipple between your lips. “Damn you’re wet,” you hissed, her walls tightening around your fingers the moment you slipped them inside. The slight discomfort and awkward position of your hand didn’t matter, not when Tara was arching her back, digging her fingers into our hair and back.

“All for you, Baby, Only for-“ she gasped when you began rubbing her clit. “Don’t edge me, please, just keep fucking me,” she cried out, covering her mouth to silence the lustful sounds coming from her mouth.

You pinned her hand to the side of her head. “None of that,” you rasped, smirking when you felt how tight she suddenly got. “Oh, you like that?”

Tara nodded, not trusting her voice. She wailed, her moans and cries of pleasure covering up the wet sounds of your fingers pumping into her. She nearly threw her head back against the wall, she would have, if you didn’t put your hand on the back of her head to cushion the impact. “Please, please let me cum,” she pleaded, already desperate. “Please,” she repeated, her legs trembling and even in the lustful haze you knew she couldn’t keep them wrapped around you for much longer. And you were out of hand.

“Cum for me,” but you wanted her to cum just like this, pinned to the wall with three fingers pumping in and out of her while your thumb rapidly rubbed her clit. She bit her lip again and you pressed your thumb against it. Without thinking, without the two of you ever doing it before, Tara opened her mouth and sucked on your thumb. Her eyes, clouded by lust, met your own and she whimpered, her entire body convulsing and her mouth opened in a silent gasp.

“That’s it, Love,” you whispered softly, pulling your thumb out of her mouth so you could keep her body up as she slumped against you. “I got you,” you gently kissed her neck as your own high and lust-fueled haze passed. You focused on Tara’s deep breaths, on her body still occasionally twitching in your arms and the quiet whines as you slipped your fingers out of her pussy and just gently rubbed her to help her calm down.

“Again, please,” Tara wasn’t interested in slowing down though, as she tried to incite you to keep going. “It’s not enough,” she was breathing heavily, close to gasping for air, but she needed more. She needed your fingers, tongue, your strap, she needed your skin against her own, your weight on top of her, or however you wanted to take her, as long as you kept going until all she could feel and sense was you. “Please, Baby,” she kissed you neck, biting you slightly as she tried to push your buttons again.

“You sure you don’t need to catch your breath?” oh she loved you, but she needed you to be rough, not gentle.

“Don’t slow down, don’t stop, just keep going until I can’t even say your name,” her voice was shaky from the orgasm you just gave her, but she uttered those words with as much conviction and desire as she possibly could.

Your eyes narrowed and her heart threatened to skip a beat, there it was again, that same wild look you had on before she came. “You know how to stop me,” se swooned at that, one word would stop everything, even if she never used it before, and she knew she wouldn’t need to do it this time either.

You pushed away from the wall and pulled your hand out of Tara’s panties so you could carry her to the bed and grab the strap-on along the way. For now, you just let it lay on the bed, just reminding Tara of what was coming as you laid her down on the bed as well. She looked completely disheveled, her bra skewed and lifted above her breasts, the shirt barely bunched up, wrinkled and barely being held closed over her belly by two buttons threatening to fall off, and her jeans, soaked through. “Damn, Tara,” you were tempted to leave her just like this, to just pull her jeans down enough to fuck her. You took a deep breath and unbuttoned the last two buttons, and somehow, the flushed cheeks and disheveled hair won you over to just leave her like this. You just pulled her jeans and panties down about half-way down her thighs and looked her in the eyes.

She was tingling with anticipation, not sure how you were going to continue this, she just knew she was fine with anything you wanted. And if that, apparently, meant she’d keep her clothes on, then so be it.

“On your hands and knees, turn toward the mirror” you ordered, and Tara felt her clit throbbing, she could definitely get used to this side of you. She turned around and placed a pillow in front of her, just in case. She waited, not daring to look behind or at the mirror, but she heard you preparing the strap and, as sneakily as she could, slipped her hand between her legs and began rubbing while burying her face in the pillow, your pillow. She was so wet, ready for you to fuck her as she bit your pillow to silence her moans.

“So impatient,” you chastised her, your hands caressing her ass and thighs, while reaching around her to keep her hand in place. “Keep doing that,” you whispered, kneeling behind her and spreading her legs as much as her jeans allowed you to. She shivered as you kissed her thighs, one after another until finally reaching her pussy, but you didn’t aim to make her cum, you were just cleaning her up a bit, just tasting her and moaning against her opening. “Are you ready?” you asked, and she nodded quickly.

“Yes!” she gasped, knowing you wanted her to say it.

You didn’t reply, you just pulled her fingers away from her pussy and slowly pushed the strap in. You started slow, like you always did, especially since it’s been a while since she last had anything aside from her fingers inside her, but you went deeper than she was used to. “Baby,” she sighed, opening her eyes and looking at the mirror, at the focused look on your face as you watched her face in the mirror, drunk on the pleasure she wasn’t even trying to hide. You leaned over her, pumping faster while reaching under her to grasp her breasts while your other hand moved from her thigh, underneath her shirt and across her side, just caressing her, slowly building her up again with no intention of edging her this time. And as much as she loved being edged by you she loved this just as much. The pace getting faster, your thrusts harder, as her back arched and her lungs struggled to get oxygen.

Yet, she didn’t panic, she had complete faith in you as she only focused on reaching that high from before. Once again she buried her face in your pillow, making it even harder to breathe, but she just couldn’t hold her body up anymore. Instead she once again began rubbing her clit, her moans becoming less and less audible. And then, her faith in you paid off, as you lifted her upper body up and her lungs filled with air.

“Breathe, Love,” you reminded her, kissing her neck as you sped up. You hugged her tightly, buried your face in her hair and swallowed hard. Her now free hand reached behind her, touching your chin and making you look her in the eyes and she came undone. “Keep going?” you still asked.

“Please,” she gasped, turning back to the mirror to look at the two of you. Her face turned red when she watched the dripping strap repeatedly penetrate her.

“See how good you’re taking me?” you asked, kissing her neck and reaching down to spread her lips slightly. “I’m not going to stop, don’t worry,” you assured her.

She finally saw exactly what you saw before, her open button-up shirt with over half the buttons torn off. Drops of her cum dripping down to her panties, you standing behind her, holding her protectively as she raced toward her third orgasm. You must have gotten tired of her shirt, because you pulled it off her along with her bra and she saw just how flushed her skin was. Her nipples still glistened from your saliva, erect and desperate for your attention, so she grabbed your hands and pulled them to her breasts, sighing in content as you got the message and rubbed her nipples between your fingers.

And in that moment, with her head thrown back on your shoulder, when all she could feel was you, she tried, so, so, desperately, to utter your name. “Y-“ she tried, she really did, barely getting the first letter of your name out before she whimpered, rolling her hips back to meet your every thrust. “Daddy,” she gasped eventually, the slip of the tongue paying off as you sped up. She could feel you tensing behind her, you were close, just as close as she was. “Make me cum,” she pleaded, gasping when she once again came around your strap.

“Say that again,” you tightly closed your eyes.

“Daddy!” her mind still didn’t catch up with the way she was calling you, too lost in pleasure to care for what she was saying, she just knew it had effect on you as you pulled out, removed her ruined jeans and panties and buried your tongue deep inside her, prolonging her orgasm just enough to truly make her unable to breathe, even as you lied her down on the bed.

“Can’t,” she gasped, and it was as if she pulled a switch as you slowed down, only doing enough to slowly bring her down from her high, and she smiled at that. For the first time you actually made her stop you, and she couldn’t have been happier and more satisfied. “Please,” she muttered as you came up and pecked her lips with a smile on your face. You raised an eyebrow but then she pointed toward her inhaler, just so she could get her breathing under control faster. You truly, absolutely, left her breathless.

A/N: Somehow I have no idea if this is any better or worse than the first one. That's what I get for trying to write smut I guess.

Taglist: @alexkolax

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x female reader #scream #jenna ortega x reader #bottom tara carpenter #top reader

[canthelpit0]

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

#sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo x reader smut #sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

[intromortal]

―ɴᴏᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ

bodyguard!p.js x nepobaby!reader

―wc: 10k (est)

―cw: SMUTTTT, jealousy, feelings of unworthiness, possessive jay, angst, some lack of communication we love overthinking, not very professional behavior, more to be added

―release date: tbd

― series masterlist

―preview

You truly were a vixen, Jay though to himself, a dirty dirty vixen.

You had lured him in slowly. First with longing glances, your eyes flicking from his own to his lips whenever he talked to you. Then, you started trying to get his attention by dropping hints about your slow sexual life. “It’s not like I don’t have options,” you’d say over lunch while peering up from your cosmopolitan, the peel of a blood orange always adorning the rim of the glass as per your request. You’d fix your eyes on him, the hairs on his neck standing at the intensity of your gaze, “It’s just that none of these options seem fun or appealing enough.”

You could have anyone you wanted, and Jay knew that very well. Gorgeous gorgeous face and long thick lashes batting at him while feigning innocence from time to time, but you just happened to have a weak spot for what you couldn't have.

-

Jay suspected you would do something drastic when you eventually got frustrated enough. Something like kissing him out of the blue maybe. He could even say he was prepared to reject it, reject you, forbidden fruit luring him in. Gluttony hidden behind the promise of bliss.

What he did not expect was for you to get in the middle of the backseat while he was driving you to your penthouse after an event, position each one of your heeled feet on the back of the front seats, flip your gown up and slide your fingers inside your pretty white lace panties. Right where he could see.

He paid you no mind for the entirety of the car ride, never once telling you to stop, gaze fixed on the road ahead. You’d think he was completely unaffected if it weren’t for how hard he gripped the steering wheel, the veins on his hands bulging and knuckles turning white.

He even got up from his seat once you arrived home calmly as usual, only the shutting of his door louder than t it needed to be. He opened yours silently, walked with you inside the elevator without looking in your direction even once.

But when the door of your apartment shut close behind you he was all over you in an instant, teeth clashing against yours in a frenzied, passionate kiss. Sensual pants and rips of fabric the only sounds filling the huge modernly decorated space. He didn’t even allow you to walk to your room, you tortured him for months, even the thought of waiting for a second more than necessary was unfathomable to Jay. He wanted you then and he was gonna have you whenever and however he pleased, he was owed that much.

He had you spread for him on the big sectional couch in your living room, holding the back of your thighs as he pounded into you with force he never knew he was capable of. He had you propped over the arm, stomach red from the roughness of the material and ass up red from the roughness of his hands, your upper body pushed forward each thrust as the skin of his balls slapped against your behind. He had you facing him, holding yourself up on your arms, legs spread over his as his hips drove inside you from underneath, lifting from the soft carpet.

You two kept fucking after, sporadically escaping from the public eye to hide in a dressing room, his thick fingers inside your mouth to silence your moans. In the car parked away somewhere abandoned, riding him in the backseat, hands gripping the front seats as you bounced on his cock. In the shower of an expensive hotel overseas, your hair in a makeshift ponytail in his hand as he fucked your sore mouth on his length, twitching every time you held eye contact with him through your gags. You even managed to sneak him in your office, his tongue lapping you up from under the desk, hidden from the eyes of the businessman sat in front of you.

It went on like this for a while, before he showed up to your front door one time in the dead of the night, soaked from head to toe from the downpour descending outside.

or

Jay wants you for himself more than he would ever dare to admit, but knows all you're in for is a bit of forbidden fun.

#nervous but excited #jay! #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen #enhypen x reader #jay smut #park jeongseong #jay

[mionemymind]

Chapter 2: Confessions for You

My Rival Series

Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

Chapter Summary: Y/n already is losing herself to her studies as competition looms closer and closer.

A/n: Gif credits to @elizabetholsens

Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing, Alcohol, Puking, Memory Loss? (ish)

Word Count: 5.1k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Last Month - Spring Semester

‘I fucking hate losing to her.’ Y/n’s fists were tightly clenched as she saw Wanda celebrate another perfect score. The glimmer in her eyes almost made Y/n’s vein burst from anger. The competition was in three weeks and the last day of school was in four weeks. 

It's been almost a month since she spoke to Dean Holloway about her scholarship. Since then, Y/n’s mental health has extremely deteriorated. The lack of sleep and the inability to eat was catching up to the bright student. 

She was making more mistakes in math club, simple ones that even the freshman could do with their eyes closed. Her confidence has gotten lower and lower the more she was unable to perfect her craft. 

And as Y/n stared at the ninety nine written on her test, all emotion was devoid from her. She was tired. Something that Wanda had noticed. The brunette had kept up on her usual appearances around Y/n. She taunted Y/n slightly over scores, grinned at every question she got right at math club, and overall proved to everyone why she was number one. 

But that wasn’t to say that the brunette didn’t notice all the changes happening to Y/n. If anything, Wanda was the first to notice all the changes. She noticed the appearance of deeper eyes bags, the short temper Y/n had over small mistakes, and even worse, the lack of focus Y/n had during lectures. 

There were other changes too like the way Y/n no longer engaged at all to Wanda’s banter. Instead, she would walk away, fists clenched, as if Y/n was holding herself back. Or the times that Wanda no longer spotted Y/n with her friends at all. It was like she was distancing herself from everyone she knew. 

While Wanda tried her best to look out for Y/n, all her kindness turned bitter when she thought of that meeting. 

Sitting across from each other, the two were finishing their project, looking over the final draft before submitting it. Wanda was looking over Y/n’s part of the essay when she came across a large paragraph that contained a lot of circular reasoning and hardly any sources. 

Wanda circled it and leaned forward to show Y/n. “Hey, you made a mist-,” Y/n snatched the paper, already rereading the paragraph at lightening speed. Her shoulders were tense as she squinted her eyes to read the paper better. 

“You didn’t explain your side well enough. I see what you’re trying to say but you end up using circular reasoning to back up your point rather the the sources we’ve gathered.” 

Feeling already embarrassed enough from math club, Y/n had enough. She got up, causing the chair to make a horrible screeching noise. Wanda grimaced at the sound as she noticed Y/n packing up. 

“Where are you-”

“Fuck off, Maximoff. I don’t need your input.” Wanda was caught off guard at Y/n’s hostility, but the smart girl had a sharp tongue and there was no way in hell she was going to allow Y/n to talk to her like that. 

“Clearly you do when you’re making basic mistakes like that.” Y/n scoffed as she stuffed her backup. 

“Always quick to call out someone’s mistakes. Would love for the day someone laughs at yours.” Wanda got up, her chair making the same awful sound. 

“Why are you being so rude? We are doing a peer review. What did you expect? That I let you mess up my grade.” Y/n rolled her eyes as she swung her backup over her shoulder. The zipper was barely over the arch, the swing almost causing her backup to open up. Y/n grabbed the remainder of her stuff and held it.

“You’re the last person I would ever call my peer. Do what you have to Maximoff but I’m fucking done here.” Y/n left without another word.

Wanda stood at her spot, offended at the fact that Y/n even snapped at her. What was worse, she genuinely felt hurt by Y/n’s tone. Y/n had never spoken to her like that, not in the three years they’ve known each other. 

So as she grabbed her stuff, her paper being last, Wanda didn’t notice the lack of marks on her paragraphs. All she noticed was the painful feeling in her heart left by Y/n.

“Okay everyone, let's please settle down so we can talk about the format for this upcoming state competition.” Up at the front of the lecture hall stood Y/n and Wanda. Naturally they stood a couple of feet apart as Wanda took the lead of the meeting. 

“This year we have the amazing honor of bringing in three teams to represent Evergreen University. Fortunately for us, Dean Holloway was able to get the approval to send in another team this year.” There were several claps coming from the students as Y/n somberly looked at the floor. 

‘He just wants to increase the odds of me losing.’ Y/n thought. Noticing that Y/n was not paying attention, Wanda shook her head and continued with the announcement. 

“As tradition has it, we will hold a bracket competition for those that would like to compete. Each team will have four slots to fill. Naturally as your co-captains for the club, we will only have 10 slots available for those that want to participate.” 

Wanda walked over to Y/n, giving her a slight pat on the back as she walked past her. “Your co-captain will list off how the competition will go.” 

Y/n cleared her throat, regaining her focus as she addressed the crowd. “In order to better assess senior and new member abilities, we will be holding a kahoot style competition as this will best mirror the real competition.”

Walking away from Wanda, “In order to avoid embarrassment of who did or did not get the answer correctly, we will be using the clickers that the University has provided our club. On the sign up sheet, I will write down your name beside the clicker number. The top ten members will receive a place for the competition. However, the members that place 11th through 13th will constitute as our substitutes in the case of anything happening to our members.” 

Y/n sat over to the desk of clickers, ready to write. “For those that are not wanting to participate but would like to see who has made it to our team, you are more than welcomed to stay as the questions on the screen will provide great practice. You may start lining up now for your clickers.” Wanda ended her speech with a gratuitous smile. 

A long line of students started to form as Y/n wrote each name down. Coincidentally enough, the first two clickers were reserved for Wanda and Y/n. Unbeknownst to Y/n, she wrote Wanda’s name at first and her name being second. Even her subconscious knew the truth. 

So as Wanda got the questions ready, Y/n sat at the table, away from everyone, hoping that her extreme hours spent studying were going to be worth it. Y/n looked at Wanda who sat with some of her friends in the club. There was still that stupid smile on her face. 

‘Eat dirt.’ Was all Y/n thought as the first question popped up on the screen. 

“Wait - you’re unable to pick me up when spring semester ends? Why?” Y/n sighed, still feeling the bitterness from math club as she sat under a tree that observed the Hodgekins Math building. 

“I’m sorry honey - your father and I are going to attend an important meeting for his company in Europe. Unfortunately, we were unable to reschedule it as your father’s clients were only able during that time to discuss the merge factors. I do hope you understand.” 

Y/n’s eyes teared up, feeling lower than ever before as she spotted Wanda finally leaving the building, the brunette’s words still in her mind. 

“How are you expected to lead when you can’t even get in the top ten?” Wanda whispered as she smiled at the students who made the team. “If you can’t even score top five, how can I trust you? Get your head back or I’m going to have to get someone else to fill your spot.” 

“Can you at least send Percy to help me out?” Y/n wiped her tears before they got a chance to fall. The weight of everything was crushing her down and it felt like no one even noticed. 

“Of course. He’ll be there to help you. How is school going by the way? Are you having fun? Your grades still okay?” Y/n leaned back on the tree, making sure no one was nearby. 

“It's been…okay. My state competition is less than a month away and I’ve been trying my best to study a lot for it.” Y/n bit her cheek, the feeling of losing gripped her heart. “But other than that, my grades are still good.” 

Y/n couldn’t see it, but her Mom was smiling on the other end of the phone. “Is that girl - what’s her name - oh yeah, Wanda, still there?” Y/n froze at the mention of the brunette, even worse, Wanda was oddly walking in her direction.

“Mom - I really don’t want to talk about her.” It’s like no matter what, Wanda somehow managed to pop up everywhere in her life. 

“Well, it has been a while since you’ve talked about her. I was starting to think she was no longer around.” Y/n knew when her Mom was acting oblivious and this happened to be one of those moments. 

“Mom-”

“You know if you can’t stand it just come back home. Your father is more than happy to help you get enrolled into-”

“Mom - I’m not going to Langford University. Dad can keep wishing but I will stay at Evergreen University.” The topic of Langford and her father was always a strain. While Y/n’s father was an alright man and honestly a great father, his vision for Y/n’s future never aligned for what his daughter wanted. 

Ever since she got accepted to Evergreen University, their relationship grew complicated. He even stopped calling after Thanksgiving break of her first semester in college. While Y/n did have a better relationship with her mother, it was still complicated nonetheless. 

“Look, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later Mom. Bye - love you.” Y/n hung up before her mother said anything back. The brunette that’s been in her mind stood right in front of her with a blank look on her face. 

“What do you want?” Wanda rolled her eyes at Y/n’s hostility. She hadn’t even said a word and she’s already managed to piss Y/n off. Had it been earlier in the year, Wanda would have enjoyed just how quick she could get under Y/n’s nerves. But now, Wanda couldn’t stand Y/n either. 

Taking a deep breath, Wanda calmed her anger and said, “Have you thought about what I said?” 

Standing up, Y/n wiped any possible dirt from her pants and glared at Wanda. “Don’t even think about replacing me. I’ll be at the competition and I’ll make sure that my group wins it all.” 

“You better be on your A-game at our next practice. If not, I’m pulling you.” Y/n’s jaw clenched at Wanda’s threat. Who was she to call the shots? They were co-captains after all. 

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me, Maximoff. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

‘I need to focus.’ It was a weeknight. As usual, Y/n was using this time to study for math club. Wanda had sent out a new packet for the competitors to use as practice for the real competition. 

For a majority of the questions, she had gotten ninety seven out of the hundred correct. But Y/n was on the brink of losing it all. She knew that any wrong answer would immediately lead to a Maximoff victory and that was the last thing she wanted. 

‘I need to be perfect.’ Erasing her calculations, Y/n redid it but still wasn’t able to match to the correct answer. Tightening the grip on her pencil, Y/n tried to not let this get to the best of her. But the constant sound of Natasha practicing her guitar started to aggravate her. 

In addition small music was already playing in the background, something Natasha was trying to play along with. So when Y/n redid her calculations once more and still got the wrong answer, she could feel her anger start to resurface. Still, she maintained her best composure and erased the wrong answer. \

Retrying for the third time, Y/n was close to reaching the correct answer when her pencil tip broke. ‘Just bad timing. That’s all. Get a new pencil and move on.’ She spoke internally. But the rational thoughts mixing with her anger were not a good combo. 

Was she hallucinating or was Natasha’s music suddenly getting louder? Ignoring it, Y/n grabbed a new pencil when the sound of a new email alerted her attention to her laptop. Going to Outlook, Y/n looked at the new email, its subject already signaling alarms in her head. 

Dean Holloway 

New Scholarship Requirements 

Feeling all sorts of anger and embarrassment, Y/n broke her pencil and slammed her computer shut. Standing up quickly, Y/n looked at Natasha, and without thinking, said, “Can you please cut that shit off?” 

Y/n was already fuming with anger, not caring if she pissed her best friend at all. At first, Natasha looked shocked at Y/n’s outburst, quickly turning the music off. But the realization of Y/n’s tone offended Natasha. 

“What’s up with you?” Natasha placed the guitar up against the wall. Y/n had never yelled at her like this before. 

“I need to study and I can’t when you’re distracting me.” Y/n waved towards the direction of the speakers and the guitar as if it was so obvious. 

“You could have asked nicely rather than being a dick about it.” Natasha did not like Y/n’s tone one bit. While they were best friends, Natasha did not take shit from anyone. 

“You could have been considerate of other people in the room rather than assuming.” Natasha scoffed knowing that this was not the first time she played music in front of Y/n. Heck, she always played music ever since freshman year of high school. Natasha could vividly recall the amount of times she asked Y/n in the beginning days of them dorming. Y/n would always respond with a smile, saying she never minded. So why would things change now? 

“Bullshit - tell me the real reason.” Natasha stood up and crossed her arms, not giving into Y/n’s lie. 

“I’ve had enough. Maybe that’s the reason.” Natasha rolled her eyes. She walked closer to Y/n, quickly lifting her shirt up to expose just how skinny she had gotten. 

“You’ve hardly been eating.” Feeling defensive, Y/n backed up, pushing her shirt back down. “You hardly sleep anymore. Not only that, I’ve barely been able to speak to you without you running away to study. Something is up. So tell me.” 

Y/n glanced down to the floor. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of a way to get out of this. Guilt consumed her as quickly as her anger did. And now, she doesn't know what to say. 

So when the red head saw her friend silently cry, her shoulders dropped and immediately went in for a hug. “Whatever is eating you up, just please tell me. I’ll make sure to help you through it so you don’t have to go through it alone.” 

‘If I’m not perfect…I’m going to lose you.’ But as Y/n clutched on to Natasha, no words escaped her mouth for the redhead had enough to worry about. 

Day Before Competition - Spring Semester

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to a party.” Y/n looked over the simple outfit she had on, blue jeans, loose white shirt, and converse. This was the first time she was going to a party, vividly recalling the multiple lies she’s used to get out of one in the past. 

“I don’t understand why this one is suddenly mandatory for club members to go to. We literally have a competition tomorrow.” Today was supposed to be spent for late night studying, but according to Wanda’s orders, this was a must for all twelve members. 

“Who cares? I know you’re going to do well.” Natasha says behind Y/n. The red head admired Y/n’s outfit before looking eyes with her through the mirror. “You’ve been studying your ass off. I just know tomorrow is going to be your day.” 

Y/n didn’t want to overthink Natasha's words. Ever since she outlashed that night, she refused to for her anger to get the best of her even though her circumstances weren’t so great. Offering Natasha a wide smile, Y/n said, “I’ll be only drinking one cup tonight but nothing else. I can’t be too drunk.”

“And I’m going to do the opposite, I will be getting drunk especially since finals are this upcoming week.” 

‘I want to leave.’ Hours into the party, the crowd grew more alive. More people were in the center dancing while many small groups formed around the frat house. The backyard was filled with people vaping or smoking. 

Y/n didn’t quite recognize all that attended the party. If she was being honest, people started to come even when they weren’t part of a club. There were a few outliers from chemistry and movie club, but other than that, the crowd was overwhelming. 

Sipping on the last few bits of her drink, Y/n watched Natasha with a small buzzing feeling. The red head was downing her fifth shot. A smirk was wide spread on her face as she wiped the small bits of tequila that were on the corner of her mouth. The crowd around her cheered as the next person got their shot ready.

Natasha walked to where Y/n was standing and stood beside her. Feeling touchy, she decided to lay her head on Y/n’s shoulder and observed the crowd. She knew a lot of the outliers from the many parties she’s been to. Plus, with how outgoing of a personality Natasha had, a lot of people gravitated towards her. 

But no matter how many people Natasha was friends with, Y/n was always her favorite. The two were opposites but that made the friendship even better. The red head always viewed Y/n as the black cat that never wanted to be petted. But the day she was finally allowed was one that Natasha always remembers. 

“Having fun?” Y/n could smell the alcohol from Natasha’s breath but didn’t mind. 

“A little bit. This drink is helping me not stress so much though.” Natasha smiled at Y/n’s confession. The two didn’t really have a long talk about her outburst many nights ago. And while Natasha always had her guesses, she remained at Y/n’s side, never wanting her best friend to feel alone. 

As for Y/n, vowed to keep her anger in check. While she did still feel irritated at times, she focused on not letting her anger consume her as much. Even with the given circumstances, it wasn’t fair to Natasha or any of her friends to get the short end of the stick. It wasn’t their fault for the way things were. 

“Ya know Nat, for this party to have mandatory attendance, I have not seen Wanda or any of the math club members anywhere.” Natasha looked around the crowd that was in the dance room and couldn’t spot the all too familiar brunette at all. 

“That’s weird. Did y’all agree for a meet up spot?” Y/n shook her head no. 

“I haven’t even gotten a text from Wanda. She’s usually on top of these things.” The two watched for a moment, letting the loud music fill the comfortable silence between them. Wanting to get another shot, Natasha almost left when she saw Wanda amongst the crowd. 

“Why does Wanda affect you so much?” Y/n almost hadn’t heard Natasha’s question, but when Y/n followed the direction of her gaze, she knew. 

“She doesn’t affect me.” Although it was a small buzz, the ability to lie knowing she had drunk a little was all the confidence Y/n needed. 

“Well you talk about her,” Natasha pointed out. “Plus, anytime she’s around, you end up bickering for a while. Sometimes you would go on rants talking about what she said to you during class.”

The blush that appeared on Y/n’s cheek was hard to spot in the dark setting. The brown eyed girl clutched on her red solo cup, feeling embarrassed that she was easily called out with compelling evidence. 

Looking back at Wanda, Y/n could feel her heart rate increase as she saw her talking to other people. There was this different aura surrounding her. Maybe it was the drink or maybe it was the fact that she seemed to really enjoy herself. Like academics wasn’t the only thing she excelled in. 

“Is she the reason you’re acting so differently lately?” Natasha lifted her head as she felt Y/n stiffen up. Feeling like she overstepped, the red head was about to spout an apology.

“Yeah,” Y/n continued to look at Wanda. Even though it was rude to blame the situation on her, it was easier to admit it than speak the truth. “It’s just..I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained. 

But how could she hate the girl that always took number one in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be number two for?

And as Natasha looked back at Wanda then Y/n, a realization suddenly hit her. ‘You like her.’ But Natasha didn’t dare to confess this outloud but it was so obvious. ‘What else would eat her up this way?’ Natasha thought. 

On the other side of the party, Wanda could feel eyes on her. Looking around the room, she finally connected to the brown eyes she knew well. Unknowingly, the sight of Natasha being so close aggravated the brunette for some reason.

But all Wanda could focus on was how soft Y/n’s stare was. There was no jealousy or bitterness about them. And that captivated Wanda even more because this was the first time that Y/n had ever looked at Wanda that way. 

Suddenly, all the air shifted in the room, and Wanda couldn’t help but think, “Why does she hate me?” 

Natasha left after her tenth shot as her girlfriend dragged her away. Feeling no reason to stay any longer, Y/n made her way out the frat house when she bumped into Wanda. 

The red head was unable to stand up straight, almost falling if it weren’t for Y/n’s arms. “Hey - hey - are you okay?” 

Here was the gaze again, the same one Wanda felt half an hour ago. It was almost too much to handle the first time, leading Wanda to drink even more. It was stupid, nonetheless, Wanda was drunk and the very reason why was the same one holding her. 

Feeling too much, Wanda leaned away as she puked into the bush. Almost wanting to puke from the sight, Y/n held Wanda’s hair back as she patted her back. “There - there.” 

Y/n looked around and was thankful that no one was here to witness this scene. As much as she hated Wanda, Y/n didn’t want this image to be in people’s heads. 

Standing back up, Wanda teared up, hating the feeling of puking. 

“Hey - it’s gonna be okay.” Not knowing what compelled her to do this, Y/n used the bottom of her shirt to wipe Wanda’s mouth. She didn’t care if puke got on her. The idea of Wanda crying infront of her was worse than puke. 

“Let me take you back home. You can’t walk in these conditions.” Was Y/n thankful that Wanda had bumped into her? No…well at least that’s what she would say out loud. But as Y/n walked Wanda back to her dorm, the awful thought of Wanda unsafely walking by herself at night made her sick. 

Arriving to dorm 321, Y/n swiped the key card, opening the door to a cold room. Carefully leading Wanda to her bed, Y/n lifted the white duvet, allowing Wanda to crawl in. 

When Wanda looked comfortable, Y/n looked around the room, noticing the minifridge at the corner. Opening it up, Y/n grabbed a water bottle and placed it at Wanda’s nightstand. 

Although Y/n could leave, the sight of Wanda sleeping made her freeze. Many thoughts slipped through her mind, some that she would blame the alcohol on. But there was this worrying feeling in her heart as the thought of Wanda puking in her sleep crossed her mind. 

No one would be able to help her in time considering she didn’t have a roommate. Groaning at her predicament, Y/n looked around the room. There was no spare pillow or blanket. It would be a rough night and the competition was soon. Looking at the clock on her wall, the bus would be ready to leave at 8:00 am giving Y/n around six and half hours to sleep. 

Was it worth it to stay at all? Would Wanda be fine? But as Y/n helped Wanda turn on her side to sleep, the brown eyed girl knew her answer. 

“Wanda, I’m going to be on the floor. If you need anything, just let me know.” There was no response from Wanda. Figuring she could leave before Wanda woke up in the morning, Y/n laid down on the ground, feeling cold from the intense air conditioning.

‘I can’t sleep if I’m freezing to death.’ The thought of using the rug below her as a blanket crossed her mind. Before she could say fuck it, Wanda’s voice caught her attention.

“Why do you hate me?” Glancing towards the bed, Y/n couldn’t see Wanda’s face from her view at the floor. Laying back down, Y/n looked at the ceiling, surprised that Wanda was even up.

“What makes you think that?” It was rude to dampen a drunk girl, that much was common sense for Y/n. So rather than outwardly admit anything, she rediverted it back to Wanda. 

“I can’t recall a moment where you were kind to me.” Y/n froze as she thought about that moment back in the library, wondering if Wanda had her flannel in her dresser. “And I don’t think you’ve said a nice thing about me…so you must hate me.” 

Oh how wrong Wanda was. Because the truth of it all, Y/n never hated Wanda. She could never hate the girl that pushed her to do her best everyday. She could never hate the girl that would go above and beyond for people that need help. She could never hate the girl she lived and breathed for. 

“I have said nice things about you,” Y/n whispered. The two never spoke like this before and it terrified Y/n to even admit such things. “You just have to look inbetween the lines. You’re smart - so I guess I hoped you saw through them.” 

Wanda was too drunk to really recall anything. She wanted so badly to ask but was afraid of the truth. “Are you ready for the competition?” 

Looking back up, Wanda had scooted to the edge of the bed, her eyes connecting with Y/n. “I think so. Do you think you’ll win?” 

Pulling the duvet away from her mouth, Wanda looked away as she said, “If I don’t, I’ll just disappoint my father.” 

“You wouldn’t disappoint me.” Wanda looked back at Y/n. Had she not been drunk, the intensity of her words and stare would have made her combust. 

But as the long night finally reached Wanda, she suddenly fell asleep before she could respond back. “Nothing you could ever do would disappoint me, Wanda.”

Competition Day - Spring Semester

Waking up to the sound of her alarm, Wanda panicked at the time. Immediately rushing to brush her teeth and change her clothes, she rushed out of her dorm, almost forgetting the important papers for the competition. 

As she ran on to the bus, sparing ten minutes, she looked around to see that everyone besides two people were left. The migraine in her head was hard to ignore, regardless, Wanda was thankful that she made it on time. 

Soon, the remainder of the team hopped on board, choosing a free row for themselves. Since it was a four hour ride, Wanda didn’t bother lecturing the team this early about the competition. She could do that later. 

Finding a free row near the front, she sat down at the seat closest to the window. Cursing herself for even drinking so much, Wanda glanced over and noticed that Y/n was across from her. She had jeans and white shirt on with a weird stain at the bottom. 

Wanda almost wanted to yell at her for not being in uniform when she noticed that she was asleep. Feeling another headache, Wanda focused on trying to find medicine in her backpack, the events of last night gone from her memory. 

Taking an ibuprofen, Wanda pulled out her notes and studied some problems. And although she didn’t remember, the girl across from her did as she finally got some sleep, having been up all night making sure that Wanda was safe and sound. 

Chapter 3

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #My Rival #Rivals to Lovers #college au wanda maximoff #College AU #college!wanda maximoff #marvel #mionemymind #academic rivals

[luvingtsumu]

( MIYA ATSUMU X FEM!READER )

the question ‘do you see us getting married?’ comes from his high school sweetheart, and he doesn’t know how to answer. he thinks he’s young, he thinks he has time, but you were not gonna wait forever.

content— angst with happy ending, slightly suggestive.

author’s note— more 3:00 am thoughts.

He stayed quiet for a few seconds, letting the words sink in before he scoffed.

“What are ya talkin’ about? We’re young, why are ya thinkin’ about marriage?”

Your head raises from his chest, serious eyes staring back at him, making him bite his tongue to prevent himself from talking.

“We’ve been dating since we were 16, we’re 22 now.” you sighed “I mean, yes, we’re young but…”

You pause, his hands traveling down your back, rubbing it slightly to encourage you to continue talking.

“I do see a future with you, marrying you.” you looked down, slightly embarrassed “We dated since we were very young so I wanna know if you see us together in the future.”

Atsumu stayed quiet, he didn’t liked serious talks, but he understood where you were coming from.

His friends used to tell him that if he stayed with you he was gonna loose all his youth being loyal to you, and he started thinking about it. It’s not like he wanted to go and fuck every girl in his way, and he loved you, he really did, but you were right.

You two had been dating since a very young age, would it be possible for you to get older together? Without a possible divorce happening —in case you two did get married—?

Would he get tired of you?

It was too much compromise, thinking about settling down at this point wasn’t in his priorities.

“I don’t know.” he said, and he immediately regret it by the way your eyes seemed disappointed by his answer.

“Okay.” you muttered, and Atsumu kissed your forehead.

“Stop thinkin’ about that, it’s not important right now.” he said, ‘reassuringly’.

But it was important to you.

You wanted a family with Atsumu, you saw him in your bed every morning for the rest of your days, and you couldn’t even think about finding someone else.

But his ‘i don’t know’ was an enough answer for you to realize that he was thinking about a future where he got bored of you, he didn’t wanna give you an answer because he couldn’t picture himself with you every day of his life.

That was alright. You couldn’t force him to marry you.

But it still hurt a bit, because now every day it was more of a preparation, more wondering about if this was the day he was gonna get tired of you.

You continued the relationship because you loved him, even if you shouldn’t have because picturing a future without him was getting more difficult every day.

You wanted everything with him but now you couldn’t help but wonder if the possibility was even in his mind.

“Mika invited us to her wedding.” you told him.

“Mika? How many years she’d been with her boyfriend?” he asked before taking a bite of your his burger.

“10 years, high school sweetheart’s too.” you chuckled “And to think I used to tell her to dump him.”

Atsumu chuckled too “Tell ‘em congratulations for me.”

“Already did.” you sighed, placing your phone down “Everyone is getting married lately, hm?”

“Right?” he continued eating, licking the mustard off his thumb “Everyone is settlin’ down this days.”

It had been a year since you asked him the question, and you were about to ask him again, just so see if the answer might’ve changed, but before you even had the change to consider keeping your mouth shut, Atsumu said something that answered everything.

“I don’t understand the need to get married.” he cleaned his mouth with a napkin “I mean— ya get me right?”

“Mhm.” No. You didn’t get him.

“Ya always do.” he smiled, and you just smiled back.

That’s when you realized this was just wrong.

If Atsumu didn’t see a future with you, why were you still here? Why were you waisting time and feelings?

And that’s how the next month’s became just about you slowly drifting apart.

You thought Atsumu wouldn’t notice, but he did.

You were like water escaping through his fingers and he didn’t knew what to do.

It was so subtle that if he didn’t loved you to the bones he probably wouldn’t even realize. But it was so obvious to him even in the way you send him messages.

Why your ‘can’t wait to get home to see you 💗’ became ‘heading home now’?

He was desperate, so desperate that he broke his number 1 rule and went to ask his twin for advice.

“I just don’t know what’s happenin’ with her.” he sighed.

“Maybe she thinks yer not that serious with her.” Osamu lazily answered, cleaning some of the glasses.

“Whaddaya mean!?” he looked at him “We’ve been datin’ for 7 years, does that not sound serious ‘nough fer ya?”

“I mean, yer takin’ too long in givin’ her the ring. Even ma asked me if ya were plannin’ on doin’ it this year.”

Atsumu blinked a few times “‘m bot plannin’ on givin’ her any ring— I mean! She knows that, I already told her ‘m not sure about marriage.”

Osamu looked at Atsumu in disbelief and then he thought back about the time you came to the restaurant with some of your friends and he heard you talking about your dream wedding.

“After 7 years yer still not sure?”

“Marriage is a difficult thing.” he sighed.

“So yer practically takin’ her fer granted?” Osamu clicked his tongue “I wonder what yer problem would be.”

“‘m not takin’ anyone fer—” he stopped mid sentence.

He blinked a few times as a rush of thought’s suddenly hit him.

He loved you and said it, he was used to the normal routine, he was used to waking up next to you and he was used to coming back home and seeing you laying on the sofa waiting for him…

But you haven’t done that in a while, now that he thinks.

He is taking you for granted. He’s thinking so hard about how he’s still young and how there’s still much time left that he forgot to actually show you that he loves you.

He was so stupid.

Saying ‘i love you’ had become a routine more than a feeling he had to show, and he was letting it happen as if it was nothing, as if you weren’t the only thing he waked up in the morning for.

And he loved you, fuck. He did. He would rip his hair out even thinking of a life without you. So what was he waiting for? Why couldn’t he just marry you? Make you his pretty wife?

Wife definitely sounded so much better than girlfriend.

He now understood. Marriage wasn’t necessary because his love for you wouldn’t change, but marriage was the last step, the part where he said ‘i wanna be with you for the rest of my life’, even if he already knew that.

So after 7 years, what was he waiting for? What was he doing if he wasn’t giving you a ring right now?

He never understood why you got so excited watching wedding videos, but he sure did now. Marrying the love of your life sure was beautiful, and it was the step he wanted to take.

That day he kissed your breath away as soon as he got home, and made you cry on his cock for the rest of the night.

He kept grabbing your hand, holding you fingers making sure to think about what ring he was gonna give you.

And there and then, that’s when he realized, when he had his tongue on your sweet pussy.

Looking up at you, seeing your red face being hit by the moonlight, tears shining in the dark as you moaned his name, your thighs wrapped around his head, hips grinding against his face and your hand pulling his hair.

That’s when he realized it was just what he wanted for the rest of his life. What he always wanted. What he knew he wanted. And he was gonna earn it now, no more playing around. You two had been together for 7 years, goddamnit! He needed to show you how much he loved you, how he would take his heart out in a second to give it to you if you asked for it.

“I love ya, I love ya so fuckin’ much.” he said as his cock reached for that gummy spot inside of you.

You were moaning, feeling as if you were gonna pass out. And then he said it.

“Fuck, I wanna marry ya, baby. Make ya my pretty wife.” he kissed your jaw “I love ya so damn much.”

And just like that he had you cumming all over his cock, his words ringing in your ears before you passed out.

You knew. When he said stuff during sex. He meant it.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #hq atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu miya #msby atsumu #atsumu x reader smut #atsumu fluff

[ivymarquis]

Happiness is a Butterfly

It's been literal months since I read @ceilidho's divorce AU and guess what it is still rattling around in my brain because it is just scrumptious.

This is what I vanished to work on lol

Pairing| John Price x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 10.6k Kinks/Content/Warnings| 3rd person reader, Post Divorce John Price x Wife!Reader, Attempting to co parent, John is obnoxiously agreeable until he no longer wants to be, there is the s l i g h t e s t mention where reader is worried John might snap but he doesn't scout's honor, squirting, unprotected PiV, blow job, face sitting, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, reproductive coercion if you squint, baby trapping if you squint, it is a lil dubby because John doesn't do anything behind Reader's back but he steamrolls the fuck out of her into getting what he wants lmao

The words choke in her throat like they don’t want to leave. 

Maybe that’s a higher power giving her just one last out to change her mind- to not say the four words that will upend the lives of everyone in the household.

She can barely bring herself to look at him. 

In the decade they’ve been married his temper has never been something she’s been afraid of, but in that moment it is all she can think about; every headline she’s ever read of a soldier snapping and killing his wife and children floating in her mind like a neon sign flashing danger. 

She’s never feared his temper but she’s also never croaked out the words I want a divorce to him before either. 

Her arms cross over her body as her gaze settles a bit off to the side of him. Everything about her body language is closed off and cagey as he looks up from his desk- no doubt having been mentally preparing for another round of come to bed, love - in a minute darling, almost done only to be caught off guard by the actual request.

He doesn’t answer her as he sits back in his chair, looking at her.

She chooses now to choke out the words because she really doesn’t think she has it in her to say the words with him standing. He’s sitting- still imposing as ever even if he’s always been magnanimous around the house- and she’s on the other side of the room avoiding eye contact.

He stands, still silent as the grave, before walking towards her in slow, measured steps and coming to a halt right in front of her. The ground has become absolutely fascinating as she refuses to meet his gaze.

As his hand raises she imperceptibly starts to shift, but absolutely nothing escapes John’s notice. “Don’t,” he starts before clearing his throat, his tone softer as he speaks again, “Don’t do that. You know me better than that.”

This time she doesn’t move as he goes to cup her face- takes her chin in hand and forces her head up. “Look me in the eye and say it again.”

It takes a moment for her to scrape together her nerves, eyes picking up off the floor to meet his. She’s not sure entirely what she expected but she thinks she assumed there’d be more of a reaction. He’s watching her- thinking- as she stumbles over the words.

Doubt twists in her gut as once again she squeaks out “I want a divorce.”

“Is there someone else?” he asks evenly.

“No! John I’d never-” It’s true; ever since he’d turned her head all those years ago she’s been blind where other men are concerned.

“Okay,” he soothes with his thumb against her cheek and she’s suddenly aware that this is probably not how this conversation should be going. “I believe you. Are you sure this is what you want?”

She’s been agonizing over this for months. She’s not even sure what gauntlet was thrown down to make her say enough is enough and have today be the day. Nothing spectacular has happened.

Maybe that’s reason enough. His job is always just the higher priority. While he always ensures his family is cared for while away, he drops everything for work in a way that simply isn’t reciprocated at home. Even when he’s physically here he spends so much time locked in this damn office he might as well be back at base.

Nothing has changed after begging and pleading and she is tired with a bone weary ache.

Are you sure this is what you want? Echos in her head while he awaits an answer.

“Yes.” No. “I’m so tired of being alone,” she confesses. “I’m tired of constantly having to beg you to be here even when you’re home. If I am going to be by myself raising the boys then I just need to be by myself.”

He doesn’t seem surprised by the words in the slightest. Probably because they’ve been having the same argument for years. This is not the first time she’s been frustrated with his job.

“Okay,” she can’t believe her ears with his easy acceptance. “If this is what you want, then okay.”

She sobs- alone- in their bed like the entire situation isn’t her fault, burying her face in the bedding to stifle herself from the kids. John’s gone.

Everything goes about as smoothly as it can. John doesn’t fight her on anything. With his schedule there’s no point in ironing out a visitation schedule through the courts. They agree to just work it out when they can, given how he can be called away at a moment’s notice.

They’re adults. They can handle this.

Once her nerves settle from the initial shock of actually saying the words to him, and she’s had a few days to think on his reaction, she decides she’s pissed.

The easy acceptance ruffles her feathers in a way she can’t put to words. She gave him a decade of her life, a home, three children- has kept everything running seamlessly while he jumped in and out of their lives to answer the call of duty and he didn’t even try to fight for her.

If he was being sullen or grouchy with her it would be easier to process everything- all the things set into motion that she started.

Perhaps she’s projecting. But he just acts like nothing is amiss as he comes by to pick up the boys or drop them off or just stop by to spend time with them.

She wakes up on the 15th and right on time she is awoken by a ding from her phone.

Perhaps, she thinks, it is a lapse in judgment to kick him out for not being around, given that she’s now cut into what already little time he has to spend with them. Isn’t that the focus of her argument? That it’s too difficult for the boys?

Their boys- three of them, each one a head taller than the last- are understandably devastated and struggling to deal with very big, very complex feelings that result in major meltdowns and fights. They blame her and they’re not wrong.

Then one day, when old habits die hard and she confides in John tearfully one day as he’s returned from his latest deployment to see them, while she can’t say it stops all together she can say there’s a marked improvement when they come back. 

What did he tell them?

Her phone dings on the 1st like it always does every other week and her agitation is palpable.

She doesn’t even need to look at the notification. 

John isn’t missing a beat this entire time and he’s driving her crazy. 

The notification is from the bank, of an entirely too large deposit to an account that only she has access to. John’s name is not on it and he can’t touch anything in it. 

He can however put money in it.

He is as steadfast and agreeable as always while stubborn enough to just bulldoze into getting his way.

She knows she should be grateful. That so many ex husbands abandon their children and former wives in favor of some shiny new girlfriend. That it would be so easy for him to throw her “if I'm going to be by myself then I'm going to be by myself” back in her face. 

Her career had been put on hold with the boys. When everyone was older and in school and didn’t need her so much the plan had been to go back. And then John had kept putting babies in her and the timeline got pushed further back with the subsequent births of their two youngest children. 

It would have been so easy for him to tell her to just figure it out herself, that this is what she wants and she can navigate life on her own just fine. 

Instead he deposits entirely too much money into an account he can’t access. 

She’s not sure why today is different, but she hits her limit and calls him. They’ve never actually spoken about his little transactions.

“You alright, then, love?” She remembers deciding to pick her battles and not harp that she’s not his love anymore. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s a brief pause.

“…I’m on base? About to take my lunch, actually. Maybe you can -“ she cuts him off before he can get any further. 

“I’m not calling to ask about your day and you know it,” she snaps irritably. “I’m asking about the deposit. What are you doing?”

John, once upon a time, used to tease about his spoiled, hot headed wife. She knows she is being the epitome of spoiled and ungrateful but come on- no one is this agreeable about a divorce. She doesn’t trust it. 

“I have no idea what you mean, love.” He assures her good naturedly. 

“You have no idea how several thousands have been deposited into my account?”

She wants to reach through the phone to strangle him when she hears that even tempered laugh of his. 

“I know how the money got deposited, love- I did it myself. I don’t know why you’re questioning my motives. We both know you haven’t worked outside the home in years- you need money to keep everything going.”

“John, it's too much. I know you know how much I spend in a month!”

He sighs. She can picture him sitting at his desk on base. Sprawled out in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation.” He responds evenly. “The plan wasn’t for you to go to work until the youngest one’s in school next year. You’ve been out of the market for years, I can only imagine an employer trying to use that to short change you.”

He lets out a sigh, and she feels something akin to guilt for freaking out on him.

John’s always been the one to make the best out of a shit situation. To try to steady the boat in the storm. Even when his own wife (ex wife) is the one making waves. 

“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation,” he repeats. ��I just want you to be able to raise the boys comfortably without worrying about making ends meet.”

The something coils tighter in her gut. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he assures her and once again she has to bite back a not your sweetheart anymore. 

“Now,” there’s the slightest shift to his tone and feels herself falling back into old habits again. As keyed in to him as a dog awaiting her master’s command. “What I was going to say earlier- I’m about to take my lunch. I would appreciate it if you could bring me the boys. I’d like to see them today.”

She can’t very well tell him no now can she?

The boys are her heart and soul but she sees them for exactly who they are- three rambunctious little spitfires always up to something. Good boys, but curious and mischievous. The curse of having smart children. 

Until they’re on base at least. All three are quiet as church mice, gathered behind their mother and peering at the soldiers from behind her skirt. 

She can’t truly correct the guards at the gate when they greet her as Mrs. Price- she hasn’t changed her name and isn’t sure if she’s going to. 

It’s not hers anymore, but it’s still her boys’ name and things are easier. She’d likely have to retrain herself to respond to her maiden name. 

The boys are hot on her heels until they stumble across John- as soon as he sees them, dropping a knee with open arms the trio are off like a shot as peals of “Daddy!!” fill the air. 

“You can just call me after you’ve finished lunch and I can come get them,” she states amicably, watching John as he wrangles the three of them. The sooner she can get out of here, the better off she’ll be (because God help her, watching him with their oldest two was how she ended up pregnant with the third, and watching him with them now just makes her yearn for something she no longer has any claim to).

Immediately the three boys are protesting, albeit not quite as vocally as they normally would.

“Mummy, no!” “Mum!” “But it’ll be fun!” the trio state their cases to varying degrees.

John shushes the three of them gently to keep them from winding up too much before turning to her. “Come on now, sweetheart, for old time’s sake, hm?”

Their little three stooges voice their approval of that idea, chiming in with various degrees of “Yeah!”

Ultimately it’s the desire to keep her children complacent that has her agreeing. She doesn’t want a scene.

Unfortunately, a (albeit mild) scene is what she ends up having anyway.

She knows (is hopeful, at least) that her oldest doesn’t mean anything by it while they’re waiting for their food and asks “So what time are we going to nana’s later?”

Her eyes snap to him about the same moment as John’s snaps to her, and she’s deliberately trying to avoid his gaze.

Why, oh why, could he not have asked either before or after lunch?

“We’ll probably get ready after we go back home.” she’s careful to keep her tone neutral.

“How fun,” Ah shit, she can hear the suspicion in John’s voice. “Any reason in particular, or just a fun weekend?”

“Just for the night. Mum’s picking us up tomorrow. Right Mum?”

The server chooses that moment to bring their food, which gives her a moment to figure out how the fuck she’s gonna weasle out of this conversation.

“Yes, I’ll come get you after breakfast.”

“Could have called me.”

“That didn’t seem appropriate. They’ll be fine with my mum.” Her gaze drops to her plate, knowing full well if she looks up that his eyes will lock on hers.

“Don’t see what’s inappropriate about me watching my own kids.”

It’s not that she’s happy to squabble with John where the kids have a front row seat, but there is a dark part of her that delights in watching him. He has been obnoxiously agreeable this entire time and the cracks are showing. It makes her feel like she’s dealing with another human being, because she knows she’s got her moments where she loses her mind during all of this and it’s beyond frustrating that he is so dauntless no matter the circumstances in every situation.

“It’s not-” Jesus, does she tell him? What does that conversation look like? “I have plans tonight.”

John is not a stupid man and she can see the moment he realizes she’s not planning a girl’s night out for herself.

That she hadn’t thought it appropriate to ask him to take the kids so she can go on a date with another man.

“I’m watching them,” he asserts before returning to his plate. 

“John-”

“I said I’m watching them,” his tone is softer, but leaves no room for argument. Conversation over.

There’s nothing wrong with her date. He is well mannered and polite, attentive when she speaks. No obvious red flags- he doesn’t dismiss her stories, doesn’t shirk back at the mention of her three children, isn’t rude to the server and isn’t texting on his phone opposed to actually engaging with her. 

There is nothing wrong with him and for an idle moment she pictures what her could have been like had she married a man like him instead of John. The 9-5, the set routine, the security and reliability of knowing that he is coming home at his regular time and he’ll be there for the boys various sports and activities. 

And yet all she can think of is John, who is sitting in their home, watching their children. Of the late night returns from deployment where they’d have their stolen alone time- quiet as church mice so as not to wake the boys who most assuredly would not be going back to sleep if they knew their father was home. 

Of the delighted squeals of their children when they come into the room to wake her for breakfast only to find him in bed like nothing was amiss. 

(And yes there was always the heartbreak that followed him walking out the door, the anxiety between phone calls that would brew until she once again could assess that he is alive and not dying blown to bits on the other side of the world)

There is nothing wrong with her date but he is not John, and that is an obstacle he will never be able to overcome.

She is safely deposited on her doorstep with polite pleasantries. She thinks he knows, has a kind smile and understanding eyes as she carefully tells him I’m sorry, I thought I was ready but I don’t think I am.

Someone will recognize him as a catch but John never let go of the hold on her heart. Someone will want this man but all she wants is John. 

It’s not as late as she thought it would be when she comes home- a fact that John immediately comments on when her eyes land on him while searching for him.

“Well that didn’t last long.” The air feels different from before she left home, and she stands stock still as he rises off the couch and strides towards her.

“I,” she starts and stops, choking on the words. Why the hell did she ever agree to letting him babysit again?

Yes he’s the father of her children and yes she wants him to spend time with them whenever possible but this is just so incredibly awkward for her. 

“I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again,” she finishes lamely. 

“I would imagine not, if the date ended that quickly. We were always out for hours, weren’t we sweetheart?”

She can’t quite get a read on him but the entire tone of the conversation is… odd. Hell, the entire conversation is odd. 

John is not one of her girlfriends for her to cheekily report back how her date went. He’s her ex husband for God’s sake. 

“We were,” she agrees amicably- mind spinning with memories of the various times they had stumbled into bed early in the morning, or crawled into the backseat of John’s car like horny teenagers or-

One moment her thoughts are full of the various times John had folded her up like a piece of paper, and the next she’s aware that he’s closed the distance between them while she’s distracted.

“Makes me wonder if that was your plan all along,” he ponders out loud. She squeaks in protest, rooted to the ground and not even attempting to put more space between them.

“Was it? Having me home with the kids while you were out with another man?” His tone holds far more warmth than one would expect of a man all but accusing his (ex) wife of being a hotwife. 

John’s hands grip at either side of her hips, thumbs rubbing in affectionate circles. She doesn’t quite know what to do with her own- she can feel the shift in the room. She hasn’t been with anyone since the last time they slept together, and there’s only so much fucking herself can due to take the edge off.

She can’t mimic the weight of a man’s body on top of hers- of his voice rumbling in her ears, the body heat radiating off of him as he coaxes one orgasm after another out of her.

She doesn’t want just a man though, in the broad scope of the term. It’s John. 

He stops stroking at her before making a few deliberate swipes. It dawns on her that he’s feeling at the seam of her lingerie set underneath her dress. 

“What’s this?” He asks, hands roaming and squeezing at her sides- possibly seeing if he can gauge which set is hidden away by feeling how the fabric wraps around her. 

It’s a new one. While she hadn’t been sure about sleeping with her date, the thought of wearing lingerie that at one point had been meant for John felt wrong. 

There’s a part of her willing to admit that at the rate things are going, he’s likely going to be christening this one also by the end of the night. 

“Were you planning on showing this to him?” John’s enjoying torturing her- dangling the man she wasn’t ever all that interested in just to bait her.

“No, I-,” she hadn’t really thought about it. There was no plan. She was going on a date, so she put on lingerie like she always has. 

Like she always did- for him. John would make a game of figuring out which set she had on.

“I just want you,” the truth bubbles out of her throat unbidden. 

John descends on her like a man starved- fingers digging into her hips with a grip that she knows is going to leave bruises later.

“Bed,” she mumbles between kisses. Given how John immediately starts herding her backwards towards the bedroom, he’s clearly on board with this plan. 

Once the door is shut, the pair cross the room before collapsing against the bed. 

Clothes are shed in a hurry, pried off with little regard as they’re shucked to the floor.

“This one looks lovely on you,” John murmurs in praise against her skin as he gropes at the lace adorning her body, dropping to his knees on the side of the bed. 

God has she missed this- missed him. The feeling is clearly mutual from the way he busies himself between her legs, lips peppering kisses across her inner thighs quickly while he makes his way towards the spot she wants him most, the gusset of her thong pulled aside.

Just as his breath is fanning over the core of her he pulls back slightly. Her thigh twitches in frustration, so close to finally having the nirvana of his tongue lapping at her only for him to have to be a tease.

“Has anyone else gotten a taste of this sweet cunt?” He asks, eyes on her with an intensity that has her squirming. 

“No! There hasn’t been- John, I swear I haven’t-“ she protests.

“I believe you,” he assures her. 

She probably should ask if the same could be said for him- for her own sake if nothing else. But she’s already made a slew of questionable decisions that haven’t gone the way she wants, and she errs on the side of not asking questions she doesn’t want an answer to.

Her eyes roll immediately once his mouth is on her. His hands grip at the underside of her thigh, holding them apart to give him unfettered access.

“John,” somehow she can’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that he’s got her back in their bed. Everything is novel and familiar at the same time, and she is overwhelmed by how easy it is to fall back into old habits. 

He pulls away just long enough to speak, “I missed you so much,” before going back to eating her out.

John is a man on a mission, and he is familiar enough with her body to know exactly how to get her where he wants her. He also knows all of her tells- God damn him. No sooner has he dragged her to the precipice of her orgasm does he sit back, content to let her dangle but stopping just shy of letting her finally topple over.

“Wh-why?” She whimpers, lust, anticipation and disappointment curling in her gut.

He’s so gentle with her when he takes her left hand in his own, thumb running over her knuckles in soothing movements.

“Where’s your ring, sweetheart?” his question is a non sequitur if she’s ever heard one, head spinning trying to catch up through the haze of pleasure she’d been drowning in just a moment ago.

“My ring?” She mimics more on reflex than anything else, mind still reeling to catch up.

“Yes, sweetheart, your ring.” He repeats, eyeline following hers as her gaze shifts to the jewelry box sitting on the vanity.

There’s no written standard on how long to keep your ring before getting rid of it, and she hadn’t been sure about it. Figured she could always get rid of it later- when it’s never a question of if she’s making the right decision. Even with the ink dried on the paperwork finalizing their divorce, the ring feels like the final nail in the coffin for their marriage.

So she put it in her jewelry box, where it is safe but out of mind and she could worry about it later.

She never thought for a second that ‘later’ would arrive in the form of her ex husband telling her “Go get it and bring it here.”

It’s a beautiful ring; everything she ever wanted growing up. The cut, the size, the setting- John did a lovely job when he picked it out all those years ago.

Gonna be an officer’s wife, sweetheart he’d told her after she’d accepted his proposal. Gotta look the part.

Surely no one can blame her for not gnashing at the bit to part with it?

She hesitates for a moment before ultimately deciding to just do as she’s told- John didn’t tell her to put it back on. So she holds it pinched between her thumb and pointer.

In an alternate dimension, where she’d gone back with her date and let him charm her out of her new lingerie, there would be some insecurity over her body. Bringing three tiny lives into the world takes its toll in the form of stretch marks and loose skin and some extra weight that just clings to her like a needy toddler- but any time John has seen her naked, he is as moon eyed as he was the first time all those years ago. Like he can’t quite believe his luck and he’s not entirely sure she’s real.

Tonight is no exception. As soon as she’s in arms reach his hands settle on her hips, pulling her closer to him.

“We’re going to lay some ground rules, and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress. Am I clear, pet?” Warmth and affection roll off of his tone in waves despite his words. All she can do is nod dumbly.

“This,” John takes the ring from her before sliding it back on her finger,” stays where it belongs. Right here.”

He pulls her even closer- she has to crane her neck to look up at him. “There’s no more dates with other men. That stops tonight.”

Another easy acquiescence. She nods in agreement.

He spins her slowly, facing away from him and then pulling at her hips so she’s sitting on him. She starts to hover, holding herself up until he swats at the side of her ass. “Now is not the time to play with me,” he warns.

She settles, feeling the mattress dip underneath their combined weight. John clearly has a plan in mind as he guides her to spread her legs, a chill running up her spine as the air laps at her wet cunt. His erection presses heavy at her ass, trapped between his body and her own.

His left middle and ring finger tap at her lower lip and she opens her mouth on reflex. John doesn’t even need to tell her to suck, tongue laving over the thick digits automatically, the same way she would his cock.

“I’m not mad,” he whispers in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You tried and tried to tell me, and I didn’t take you seriously, did I?”

She can only assume that this is all rhetorical- that there’s no way he can expect an answer out of her considering she’s gagging on his fingers.

“As soon as you told me you wanted a divorce in my office, I knew what it was. You needed my attention, and I wasn’t listening. I don’t blame you. Hell, I practically forced your hand. So I’m not mad,” he reiterates.

“But you’ve got my full attention now, lovely- I can promise you that.” 

She twists as much as she’s able, watching John out of the corner of her eye while still sucking; her tongue tasting the metal of his ring as it ran along the base of it.

“We,” he pulls his fingers from her mouth, grinning when she chases his hand slightly, “are going to work this out. I love you, and I have no intention of letting another man raise my children.”

It would be easy to say the arousal dripping from her is left from when John’s mouth was on her, but that would be a lie. Him taking her in hand- literally-  and telling her he has no intention of letting her go is definitely doing it for her.

Wet fingers grab at her jaw and turn her head, making her melt into his hold as he kisses her. “There’s my good girl,” his voice is a rumbling timber purring in her ear.

She whines when those two fingers trace down her body- an appreciative squeeze of her breasts trailing to grope at her ass before finally slipping between her legs.

“John,” his name is a whimper against his lips as she wiggles in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he admonishes gently as he works his fingers inside of her.

Warmed by their body heat, his ring isn’t cold against her skin by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, it feels like a white hot branding iron everywhere he touches. That tonight is a reclamation as much as a reunion as he crooks his fingers inside of her.

It was easy to ignore the need that burned in her at night. She’d run herself ragged during the day chasing after children and keeping all her ducks in a row. With John gone, it was easy to shove the desire down and ignore it.

But oh now that he has her in his arms, fingers buried in her as he works her closer to her peak? She feels like she’s on fire. Greed burns at her insides, needing more. Nothing short of climbing inside of him would abate the desire roaring in her body.

Her hips cant in short motions, following the movement of his hand eagerly.

As reluctant as she is to stop kissing him, she can feel a crick in her neck starting to form from keeping her head turned for so long.

Her head lulls against his shoulder when his free hand slips under the lace of her bra and grips one nipple between his middle finger and thumb, his pointer finger teasing the hardened nub in a way he knows drives her absolutely insane.

“Oh my God,” she squeaks just a breath too loud, her hand immediately clamping over her mouth as John pinches her nipple just shy of pain in reprimand. “Not too loud,” he reminds her, mollified when she nods in acknowledgement.

He’s got her panting in need in record time, a small part of her suspicious that he’s going to stop her short of her climax again. The anxiety only serves to fuel the fire burning in her gut, giving the final push to tip her over the edge.

Apparently neither trust her ability to be quiet when her climax hits, because John’s hand abandons teasing her breast in favor of also making sure her cries are muffled. The other is soaked as she squirts, twitching and bucking in his hold.

“Need to shove your face in a pillow,” he comments dryly, a shit eating grin on his face as he takes in her blissed out expression.

He knows her inside and out; knows exactly how long she needs to recover before he’s tapping at her side and prompting her up. “Get on the bed and lay on your back.”

She complies immediately on shaky legs, standing to turn and crawling to the middle of the bed.

John is just as delicious now as he was over a decade ago, and her brain threatens to short circuit watching him crawl over top of her. There’s more grey hairs and fine lines creasing around his eyes, and her heart still thrums in her ribcage like a hummingbird.

She relaxes against the mattress, trusting entirely that John has everything handled. He positions her how he wants, settling between her legs and rubbing the tip of her cock against her wet entrance. 

“Please, John, I can’t wait anymore,” she begs, feeling like she’s about to lose her mind. The edge should be taken off considering John’s rather patiently gotten her off already once, and yet if anything it just makes her more frantic. As much as each swipe of his cock against her swollen clit sends tingles of pleasure up her spine, she’s gagging for him and running out of patience.

“You are a spoiled thing,” he admonishes good naturedly like he hasn’t made a habit of indulging her every whim and desire in the past decade up to and including getting a divorce.

“We might have our problems, sweetheart, but being able to fuck you right was never one of them, was it?” John teases as he lines himself up with her. She shakes her head in agreement. If she’s being truthful, that’s partially what had stayed her hand for as long as she had. The frustration with his work being so all consuming it was like his mistress had been a slow boil for quite some time. For years John would mollify her by fucking her into submission- and she has a sinking suspicion that their youngest was an attempt to get her to let up on the subject.

His generosity in the bedroom stems from equal parts wanting to please, and the pragmatic aspect that he is not a small man, and it’s usually easier for everyone involved if he gets her off before attempting penetration.

It’s like they haven’t missed a day- it takes a few thrusts to get her body to spread for him and then all the blood on John’s body dives south for the wet, warm cunt wrapping around his cock.

“This pretty cunt’s got me like a vice, sweetheart,” he praises, leaning down to kiss her.

“I missed you so much,” she whines into the kiss. “It feels so good.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he grunts against her neck, each clap of his hips against hers earning a whine. “You divine creature- got me wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”

An entire relationship’s worth of orgasms makes it so she doesn’t begrudge him that he’s going to be a quick shot tonight. His earlier statement is correct- if there is one thing the man knows how to do, it’s fuck her within an inch of her life. He’s proven that time and time again.

If anything, given their time apart, it appeases some of her anxiety- he must not be getting any from anyone else if he’s already this close to finishing.

“Look at me,” he instructs and she complies immediately. One of his hands strokes her face while his other arm braces his weight above her. “Tell me you love me.”

Her answer is immediate. “I do! John, I love you. I love you so much!”

His hips come to a halt against hers as he grunts against her neck in pleasure. “My perfect girl,” he praises, hands stroking at her sides as he comes down from his high.

She’s so caught up in the lust of the situation that it takes a second for reality to come knocking on her door. “Shit! Pull out!” she tells him, trying to scramble out from underneath him.

“What?” In all their years, ‘pull out’ has never been one of the instructions. He complies even as his brows knit in confusion.

“I haven’t been keeping up with my birth control!” Despite John’s easy assurance that he can just stroll in and assert that they are going to work through things (and she does want to)- adding a new baby on top of their mess will not help get shit sorted out.

Once again, his unflappable attitude has its way of driving her absolutely insane. “Bit late for that, innit? You’ve already had 3 of mine, what’s one more at this point?”

“One more at this point is exactly the point!” she tries to reason.

“We did say a girl would be nice,” he reminds her.

“That was before we got a divorce!” she hisses, trying to be mindful of her volume lest she wake their children.

“That’s nothing but paperwork, pet. We can have it sorted by the time you’re due.” John can tell he’s truly gone and wound her up more than he meant with that, immediately shifting gears to try and settle her back down. 

“Okay, too much. I’m sorry. Come here,” he guides her to lay down, which she does albeit with a fair amount of suspicion. 

John wisely chooses not to agitate her further or do anything that could be considered pushing in his luck (like, say, pointing out that despite her protests about another baby, she’s not said a peep about the cum dripping from her).

Instead he draws her up into his arms, sticking his nose firmly in her hair.

For a long moment it’s quiet, nothing but the sound of their breathing in the late night.

It catches her off guard when the tears come unbidden. One moment she’s happily lazing in her (ex-turned-hopeful-once-more?) husband’s arms, and the next she’s sobbing uncontrollably.

They’ve been through enough that it shouldn’t embarrass her. For fuck’s sake, she’d vomited all over him during the birth of their second son. But she feels like an exposed livewire sobbing over nothing and without warning.

“What’s wrong?” John mumbles as he wakes half-way, pulling her closer to him and stroking her back to console her.

“I mucked everything up,” she chokes out, burrowing her face against his neck. “I didn’t even want this, I just didn’t know what else to do!”

He shushes her gently, petting at her in an attempt to calm her down. “I meant what I said, pet. I know things have to change, but at the end of the day it’s just papers. We’ll get everything fixed back in its proper place.”

She doesn’t remove herself from the spot on his neck she’s nestling against, but quiets down and eventually they both fall asleep once again.

When she wakes again, she feels far more level headed- although neediness eats away at her. It’s like her body is craving to make up for lost time for the months they’ve been apart.

She can’t help herself as one hand trails down the thick hair dusting his torso, pressing kisses against his neck. Even in his sleep John responds to her touch- pulls at her to be closer to him, huffing as his dick twitches in interest. 

It only takes a quick lick of her palm and a few strokes to have him stiffening in her hand.

The dried spend on the inside of her thighs is enough of a reminder, even if she’s feeling affectionate this morning, that she’s going to have to figure something out for her birth control. 

For the morning at least the answer to that is easy- still working her hand in slow motion up and down on his shaft she kisses a trail down his neck and working her way south.

The movement is enough to have John stirring with a sinful groan in the back of his throat.

“Well good morning, gorgeous,” he greets, voice clouding in sleep in a way that makes her just want to sit on his face.

Humming out an acknowledgement, she continues to work her way down his abdomen. She does give in to the impulse to nip at the base of his happy trail, delighting in how he sucks back away from her teeth only to push at her head immediately after.

“Bad girl,” he admonishes with no true venom in his voice “Keep those teeth to yourself, hm?” he advises with an affectionate swat to her ass.

Rather than crawling down him, she’s got herself angled perpendicular to him. All the better for him to pet her with one hand while the other encourages her to take him in her mouth.

The moan he makes as she bobs her head is sinful, and she presses her thighs together and shifts her hips to get whatever little bit of friction she can- an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by John.

“That pretty pussy of yours needs some attention, doesn’t it sweetheart?” he asks, a warm hand running down her spine and trailing across her ass until he starts to tease her.

She works with a sense of urgency, even with John taking his time playing with her. They should have another hour or so to themselves before the boys wake up, but they’re also no strangers to a mad scramble under the covers with an unplanned interruption.

“Fuck,” he bites out a curse, hips flexing underneath her. That’s all the encouragement she needs to redouble her efforts, the hand not supporting her weight wrapping around him and stroking to help get him there faster. Despite their years together she’d never quite been able to take all of him down her throat.

“Look at me,” and the eye contact is all it takes for her to feel him stiffening beneath her. “Gonna swallow for me, sweetheart? Yeah, that’s my good girl- keep those eyes on- fuck,” he grunts, his climax hitting.

She’s well versed in swallowing his seed as he cums- keeps up the suction even as his orgasm tapers off just to see how long it takes him to grab her by the hair and pry her off of him.

“Sit on my face. And don’t even think about fucking hovering,” John orders and she complies immediately. His teasing while she’d blown him leaves her a horribly needy mess- None of the pent up lust releasing yet, although anticipation has her scrambling back up the bed and straddling his face.

He pulls at her hips, locking a forearm around her like he wants to make sure she isn’t going to change her mind and start teasing him back.

And fuck does that man know exactly where to lick and suck to make her eyes roll. One of her hands gripping the headboard for dear life, the other one buries itself in John’s hair. He takes direction like a champ, following the not-so-subtle cues from her as she pulls him where she wants him.

“Please, please, please,” she babbles breathlessly as he gets her teetering over the edge, only to release his hair in favor of clamping her hand over her mouth as her orgasm washes over her.

Her legs are weak as he guides her back down before getting her on her back and kissing her until she’s breathless. As engrossing as their make out session is, neither one particularly cares that they can taste themself on the other.

Eventually the pair wear themselves out, calming down from their earlier romp and managing to get into the shower and cleaning up.

It’s only after they’ve escaped the pull of their marital bed, as the water washes the lust out of her system that the reality of the situation comes knocking again, insistent.

“I want this to work, John.” She wants to melt at the way his expression softens at her.

“I do too, sweetheart- you have no idea how much.” A sigh escapes her, already fearing that they’re back on their loop that’s been the routine for the past decade. “What’s that for, hm?” he inquires.

“I want this to work, John,” she repeats “but things have to change. I mean it.”

“ I know you do,” he assures her, reaching down to kiss her temple. “I believe you.”

She’s uncertain if her refusal to be mollified is her winding herself into a snit again, or because she’s justified in the knowledge that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.

Especially when his palm drops to hover over her belly.

“You can’t try to get me pregnant if you’re not retiring from the field, John,” she asserts. “I can handle the boys, I cannot handle a fourth baby by myself.”

And much like a kind stranger trying to lure a skittish stray dog into their car, John hums in agreement.

Retirement from the military as a whole, she knows, is far too much of an ask. John has spent his entire adult life serving and it will probably take a career ending injury to get him to agree to retire outright. However she’ll happily settle for him promoting high enough that he’s not one of the first people contacted when they need boots on the ground. She just wants her husband home. She’s paid her dues being the sweet housewife raising the kids alone while he plays hero on the other side of the world. He’s beyond capable of climbing the ranks to one that involves less clandestine missions and more paperwork, and it’s absolutely infuriating that he hasn’t.

(She knows it’s not entirely a blind devotion to country and crown and preventing acts of terrorism, and the fact that he enjoys fucking off to who-knows-where at the drop of a hat- never knowing where he’ll be 24 hours from now at any given time, and he doesn’t want to give that up yet. She tries not to think about it too hard though, otherwise she’ll melt down like chernobyl.)

The hot water runs out before John’s refractory period, which is a good thing for her sake because she’s a scatter brained mess right now. The man’s not 20 and she doesn’t begrudge him the time it takes to recuperate, but she’s swinging wildly between being sappy and sentimental and wanting back what she had, and knowing full well she needs to get a grip before she does something stupid like letting John talk her into trying for a girl.

By the time they dry off and dress there are three hungry boys who are in for quite the surprise to see their dad come morning. No doubt there had been a reasonable expectation that John would leave in the middle of the night after they went to bed.

John keeps the boys distracted and out of her hair as she gets their breakfast sorted. 

Before the divorce, the pair of them would go about their separate routines; making their morning caffeinated beverages of choice, idly commenting on the latest news headline, alternating getting things sorted for their children. 

Now John hovers. Like he’s not entirely certain if he wants her out of his sight. He wrangles the boys to their seats as she gets their food, but it’s like one eye is kept trained on her. 

Before the divorce, her children would make their protests- high pitch peals of ew! (The youngest, she suspects, merely imitating his older brothers who get a kick out of their parents' displeased stares) if they witnessed any displays of overt affection. While of course anything where they could see was kept G rated, once the boys thought something was funny they committed to the bit entirely. 

Now, while she’s distracted by John giving a chaste kiss to her temple and running his hands up and down the sides of her arm, she realizes that the boys are as silent as the grave. Three sets of owlish eyes watch them intently before comically making a big show of going back to their breakfast as they realize they’re caught.

“John,” she starts quietly, eyes watching the boys before shifting her attention back to her husba- ex-husband. “We really need to talk about this. Actually talk.” Not just fuck each other silly - she knows they’ll just slip back into old habits. They need ground rules. 

She knows how her husband works. If she can wrangle him into actually agreeing with a discussion, that is workable. John’s got his quirks and idiosyncrasies that she’s learned over the years. He won’t outright lie to her, he won’t go back on his word if he commits to something. But he will push and widdle and chip away at her to keep her compliant and happy enough to get off his dick (usually by putting her on his dick. Or mouth. Or hands. Or-

Anyway.)

“We will, sweetheart. Let’s just get through breakfast, hm?”

It is so familiar and yet still so different. The boys are running a mile a minute, eagerly soaking up the additional time with their father (the guilt gnaws at her- knows this could just be a normal morning. Had she either never divorced him, or kept him firmly away. This hemming and hawing that feels inevitable can not be good for the boys).

Screentime is a bit of a hot topic, but they need the boys content and quiet long enough for them to speak without interruptions. 

The eldest is a bit too old for the target demographic for Bluey, but his handheld console is enough to keep him entertained.

She can’t help but feel like her oldest boy and John are conspiring- John firmly telling him “Your mother and I need to have a little talk with no interuptions. You keep an eye on your brothers, got it?” only for the oldest to salute him with a “Yes, sir!” that has John grinning as he herds her towards his office with a hand low on her back.

The click of the door sliding shut is as loud as a gunshot.

“I know I pushed too far,” John begins. The pair of them stand in front of each other. “You kept asking for the same thing over and over again. I never thought you would actually leave, but I can’t say I was surprised when you asked for a divorce. You were trying, and I wasn’t listening. I meant what I said last night. I’m not mad.”

It…. stings. Knowing the truth the whole time- John thinking he can just wait her out. That he can lean on her despite her protests and eventually she’ll give up. But it’s a dull pain, considering it’s something she’s lived with for years. She’s well familiar with it. 

“So why? Why let it get that far. I know what you do is important. I know it’s selfish to ask you to give that up, but we’ve got three kids, John. You want a fourth! It is so hard to be the one who stays with them when you leave. They don’t grasp the situation. They just know that their dad’s gone and they miss you. And I cannot breathe when you are deployed and sent off to fuck-knows-where dealing with some of the most violent, dangerous groups on the planet. What if you don’t come home? How am I supposed to raise them without you?”

Sharp words coming from the same woman who kicked John out. But it’s the same story he’s been hearing for the better part of decade ever since their first was born. He can likely recite her speech from the heart at this point.

Like always, John is steadfast in the storm no matter how far into orbit she flies. He’s well acquainted with her whims, and knows just how easy it is to rile her up and yet also knows exactly how to bring her back down. 

At the moment her expression is similar to that of a wet hen’s.

“I didn’t think you’d leave.” It’s the truth and she knows it and it pisses her off. “I knew you weren’t happy with it, but overall we were happy with each other. I wasn’t cheating on you. I’m not a mean drunk. I might be absent at times but I’m not cruel. I keep you happy in bed. You want for nothing. The boys know I adore them. Every marriage has its problems. I thought we both understood that the nature of my job is ours.” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she reiterates, and she’s not sure if her voice warbles from how angry she is at the confirmation that he thought he could wait her out until he felt like retiring (or, more likely- she buries him), or at herself because she picked him and how mad can she be when he’s been honest about his work from the start.

There’s no clear cut villain. John is right. His job has weighed down on them since the beginning. In the beginning she thought she could handle it. But three children later and she’s begun to realize- far too late- that it’s so much. Subjecting them to something they never asked for because they were born into this schedule where John is beholden to Kate fucking Laswell more than his own family (peace and love to her- she’s great but she is the walking representation of everything they are struggling with in their marriage).

Her mind is a jumbling mess, like twine that’s interlocking and needing to unravel. There’s no clear cut path forward. She will go absolutely insane if things continue on the way they have been, but the time apart has shown her that she doesn’t really want to separate from John. No other man can even come close to him.

“So now what do we do?” she asks.

John steps closer to her, reaching to run his knuckles across her cheek in affection. “I want to come home, sweetheart.”

“It’s not that easy.”

She expects some sort of protest. Some sort of Yes it can be, and she’s not sure if she’s got the mental fortitude to continue holding her ground. But she knows that nothing will change if she lets up now. This is the moment where she either needs to throw in the towel, or maybe- just maybe there’s a chance.

They’ve made it this far. But she is so tired. She can’t go back but she’s got no idea what’s ahead or how long it will take to get there.

“I know. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

“It is your last one John, I swea-” She’s always hated that stupid fucking movie trope where the man shuts the woman up by kissing her. Yet here she is, her (fragile) attempt at a stern warning cut off as John snatches her up and pulls her to him.

After last night, one would think they’d gotten enough of each other to not be groping at each other like animals in heat.

Mother fucker he’s doing it again. He doesn’t fight as she pulls away, though those pretty blue eyes are blown showing where he would have been heading had she not stopped him.

“I mean it, John. You said you want this to work, but I need to see changes. You need to be home and not fucking off half away across the world at the drop of a hat. I need to be able to make plans and know that you will be here.”

“Anything, sweetheart. I just want my family back. I swear, I’m listening this time. I’ll figure it out.”

The lust has calmed from his eyes as he approaches again, making her look up at him. “You remember our little conversation from last night?” 

He looks as serious as a heart attack, and there was a lot said last night.

She’s taking too long to answer, as he continues unprompted. “I know you’re not going to sign the papers overnight, and I’m fine with that. But your ring stays on, and there are no more dates with other men. You are mine. You are not single, and I expect you to act like it, hm?”

The chaste kiss to her temple is a sharp juxtaposition to the severity of his tone. He certainly doesn’t need to tell her twice.

“I promise,” she assures him, seeing how the intensity drains out of him as he’s mollified by her words. “I know I don’t have a right to ask, but did you- was there-” the words choke as she stumbles over them. She can’t be mad. She’s got no right to- they are divorced, and he (was) single and free to do as he pleases. But the idea of John drowning his sorrows in another woman’s body makes her want to claw someone’s eyes out.

And she really should have asked before he fucked her without a condom, but hindsight is 20/20.

Despite her inability to get the words together in the right order, John seems to know her question. He pulls her close to him, tucking her under his chin.

“No, sweetheart. There was never anyone else.”

The knot in her gut unwinds a little bit. “I love you, John. I’m sorry it came to this.”

“We’ll fix it, sweetheart.”

For a moment they stand there in the quiet, but there was no telling what sort of trouble their little trio might get into if left alone for too long. When John unlocks and opens the door, they both raise an eyebrow at the sight of their youngest dashing off around the corner.

Like the three little troublemakers had tried to listen through the door (which they would not be able to do- because she has tried once or twice), and the youngest was too slow to keep up with his brothers who are perched on the couch for all the world like they never left it.

The older two try to play their hand at staying cool, although the youngest boy is giggling- enjoying his “game” of teaming up with his brothers to try and pull a fast one on their parents.

“Do you have to leave?” The question from their oldest is deliberate, and succeeds in distracting them from the fact that their kids were definitely trying to eavesdrop on a conversation not meant for young ears.

“Not today,” John answers, ignoring the sharp look she shoots his way.

It’s a delicate balancing act as they stumble through picking up the broken pieces of their marriage. John can’t prove that he’s controlling his work hours unless she lets him in the house, but does give him shit about not moving in too soon. She doesn’t want him getting comfortable or complacent and back sliding on his promise.

Of course, John gets his lick back. There had been a stern conversation about condoms until her birth control is in hand.

Only to find out at her appointment that they can’t give it to her because she’s pregnant.

Mother fucker. Damn that “one shot, one kill” motherfucker. Their one slip up was the only discrepancy since they have gotten back together- that has to be when she conceived. Why did she fall in love with a sniper?

John is ecstatic with the news, as are the boys. She feels like a wet, disgruntled hen.

The new baby throws a wrench in her plans, but she can’t quite find it in her to be too disappointed once the shock wears off. John had been set on another baby, chattering on and on about how he hopes it’s a girl. They would have had another baby at some point, it’s just a bit sooner than she was anticipating.

No doubt for the boys, the new baby is an assurance that their parents aren’t staying separated. In their simplistic view, that’s as good as ink drying on paper that they’re staying together.

At her scan when it’s revealed she’s carrying boy #4, John kisses her temple and tells her how happy he is.

The youngest daughter that he’s got his sights set on is shelved for the duration of her pregnancy, not another peep of it mentioned.

A girl would have been nice, but she’s well experienced with wrangling John Price’s sons, and no doubt this one will fall into the group just fine.

John’s got quite the track record of giving her pretty babies, which everyone praises and compliments when the little man finally makes his arrival.

When he is home (which has been substantially more, she has to admit), he’s an active and involved father who’s besotted by his children and happily splits night duty with his exhausted wife. Keeps the older boys in line and behaving.

She doesn’t sign anything until John has a signed transfer request. While he’ll still be working in counter terrorism, and still be very close with the 141, his job no longer mandates he ups and leaves at the drop of a hat.

They celebrate quietly. Friends and family have made their opinions known about the back and forth tentative future of their marriage (mostly a well intended shit or get off the pot), and they elect to drop the boys with John’s parents to have a weekend for themselves.

There are no lusty slip ups and everything is followed to the letter but she wants to kill John when he grins at her positive pregnancy test.

Everything can fail, it seems. John merely commenting “Maybe this one will be a girl”, showing his hand that he hasn’t quite given up his dreams of a youngest girl to round out their gaggle of boys.

She doesn’t want to know the gender this time around, which John grouses about but ultimately accepts.

When Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley promotes to a new rank, John is the one the man calls to ask him to participate in his ceremony.

She’s still in her second trimester, not quite teetering into her third just yet. John wants to bring the kids. If the third trimester exhaustion had stuck yet, she likely could have begged to be left out and he likely would have acquiesced. And the boys usually know better than to try anything when on base with John.

The day comes and she feels like a walking stereotype of an officer’s wife- gaggle of kids clinging to her skirt, the newest baby still clinging to her, and an unmistakable pregnancy bump.

“Cookin’ another boy in there, Mrs. Price?” Soap asks good naturedly while they’re waiting.

“Not quite sure,” she answers, eyes on her three more mobile kids making sure they’re settling in and behaving. “John’s been itching for a girl since before this one came,” she gestures to their youngest in her arms.

“Well, hopefully it’a girl then for yer sake- man’s gonna give ya a football team at this rate!” the Scot laughs, chortling at his own joke. There are times when she sometimes wonders how someone as charming as Johnny Mactavish got wrangled into clandestine counter terrorism missions, but then she remembers that as much as he can charm a bird from a tree, it’s comments like that that skirt just too comfortable that yes, he’s probably got a few screws loose. (She sometimes wonders about Kyle too, who is giving Johnny a “fucking really??” look, but can’t quite pin anything. The man is perfectly mild mannered and respectable, and she knows that their work can warp someone given enough time.)

“Hopefully so,” she answers amicably. While her pregnancy has been blessedly uneventful, she’s already over it and will be perfectly happy with this being her last.

Something tells her that John is going to get his wish, one way or another though.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#captain john price #John Price x reader #john price x you #captain price smut #dub con #dark!fic #<- that is just my typical 'catch all' blocklist tag for anyone who doesn't wanna read anything dark/dubious/etc. #I am being conservative with using the tag pinky promise #my writing

[adirtylittleheart]

TICK TOCK, TIMES UP An established friend of the triplets, but also Chris' ex visits them in L.A. He wants her back. What will happen after a late-night encounter in the kitchen? Warning: 18+ All are over 18 in my writings. Smut. Fucking. P in V. Squirt. Cocksure Chris! ChrisXOC. Notes: Listened to X^2 by Tuxy Music while I wrote this. Enjoy! '' Chris was close enough that her breasts were brushing against his chest as her breathing elevated. Chris started getting hard, and the heat washed through him. ‘’I could be wrong though. Maybe you don’t want my dick in you, stretching you, making you cum…filling you up with my cum…’’ ''

Tick Tock, Time's up ‘’Are you okay?’’ Nick asked and put his hand on Eva’s back when he saw her putting a hand to her forehead. She let out a faint sigh and then she dropped her head slightly. They were enjoying a night of lazing about on the couch, watching a movie when Eva started feeling slightly ill.

‘’I think so. Just a little tired,’’ Eva said

‘’You sure?’’ Nick asked and rubbed her back gently

‘’We spent a lot of time in the sun at the beach while you were filming. Well…Eva did. I hid under my hat and an umbrella, sipping on ice cold pina coladas. Probably too much sun,’’ Matt’s girlfriend, Elle said

‘’Why don’t you go lay down for a bit, Evie?’’ Matt asked looking overly concerned

‘’I think I might,’’ Eva said and smiled at them all as she pushed herself from the couch and stood up.

‘’Call us if you need anything,’’ Chris said as she started making her way to Chris’s room.

‘’Thank you,’’ Eva said glancing over her shoulder at him with a grateful smile.

Chris’ eyes followed her all the way until she turned the corner to go down the stairs. He shifted on the couch, pulling his legs off the table. Nick chuckled and shook his head while Matt rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. They looked at each other knowingly and then looked at Chris again. He lifted his can of soda to his lips, lost in his thoughts of Eva.

Eva was a friend of the triplets for as long as any of them could remember. They grew up together in Boston, and it was nostalgic for every one of them. It was something that no one could take away from them, no matter how hard they tried. They had invited Eva to come stay with them in L.A for a few weeks over the summer to take her mind off losing a close family member. She was eternally grateful to them and she got along with Matt’s girlfriend, Elle, like they too were old friends.

‘’What’s going on?’’ Elle asked when she saw the looks between the brothers

‘’I told you how they used to be in a relationship and Chris screwed it up. Dumbest thing he ever did. He still wants her though,’’ Matt replied as Elle snuggled closer to him

‘’Shut the fuck up, Matt,’’ Chris said, ‘’I never intended on hurting her. I loved her,’’ he said, and then dropped his voice, ''I still do.''

‘’But what happened?’’ Elle asked

Chris sighed and slumped back onto the sofa, ‘’A few months after we moved here, a mutual friend of ours told me Eva was seeing someone else because she couldn’t handle the distance between us. Our friend kinda followed Eva, and caught her going into the guy's house. I was so hurt that I jumped the gun and I thought doing the same thing to her was the way to go. I didn’t even wait to talk to Eva, I just went and…fucked it up that same night I was told. Literally. I wanted her to feel the hurt I was feeling so I fucked someone else.'' ''The shitty thing about this is, Eva never was with anyone else. She was tutoring a kid. Chris would never have done what he did if our so-called friend hadn't interfered. That ''friend'' was after Chris, that's why she did it. Is it even worth saying that friend is no longer part of our lives?'' Nick said ''But...you were tricked...right? Elle asked ''I still hurt her. It doesn't take away that I didn't talk to her before I acted on my impulses. Eva forgave me because she loves my brothers and family as much as they love her, but she said she could never forget and to this day she won’t talk about it. She will be friends with me, but nothing more.’’ Elle gave Chris a warm smile, ‘’maybe you should try a little harder. You never know.''

Chris gave her a smile but it was weak. He had been trying to talk to her ever since but to no avail. She flat-out refused, always cutting him off as soon as he mentioned the word ‘talk’. However, he was willing to keep trying. ***

Chris had just gotten out of the shower and was getting ready to put his pajamas on when he heard a noise downstairs. He was staying in Nick's room while Eva was there, staying in his room. He looked at the time on his phone and frowned, then left the room. As he descended the stairs he looked towards the kitchen and saw Eva standing at the fridge getting herself a bottle of water. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her in a thin white, short, little top. She was wearing a pair of black t-back panties that rode low on her narrow hips. When she closed the fridge and turned around, Chris’s heart thumped against his chest. Her breasts were straining against the little top, and it showed off her toned midriff. Even from that distance, he could see her nipples through the thin fabric. He pulled his eyes up and smiled to himself seeing her long, wavy hair and big hazel eyes. She had rosebud lips that were full and pouty. She was the picture of innocence despite her attire. She walked to the table and picked a grape from a bunch that was bought earlier that day. He smiled wider knowing she loved cotton candy grapes and he had gotten them specifically for her. The smile, however, turned into a frown when she closed her big hazel eyes, lifted the bottle of cold water, and held it up to her chest for a few seconds before putting it against her neck. It was the middle of summer and the temperatures were soaring but he still worried that she wasn't feeling well. Chris continued down the stairs and stopped next to the table, quietly putting his phone on the table.

When Eva opened her eyes, they widened and she let out a scream as she threw the bottle of water at Chris.

He laughed and caught the bottle like a pro. Just a minute ago, he had been concerned that she was still feeling ill but, on the contrary, it seemed she wasn’t doing too bad.

‘’Jesus, Chris,’’ Eva said, her hand flying up to her heart.

‘’I see we have to start teaching you to throw a little better,’’ he said, and threw the bottle up into the air. It flipped over twice while in motion and then came down only for him to catch it perfectly.

‘’I didn’t want to hurt you,’’ Eva said dropping her hand to her side again.

Chris almost doubled over with laughter. ‘’Anything you say, sweetheart,’’ he said and held out the bottle of water for her.

‘’That was pretty bad, huh?’’ she asked with a giggle, taking the water back

‘’Fucking awful,'' he said honestly, ''but you’re pretty much great at everything you do, so it’d be unfair to the rest of us if you were perfect at everything,’’ he said

‘’Well, that escalated from me being great to perfect, so thank you. You’re pretty great at everything too, so…’’ she said and shrugged her shoulders

He smiled at her and ran a hand through his still damp hair, ‘’how are you feeling?’’ he asked

‘’Actually great. I think I might have been a little dehydrated… that’s… all…’’ she replied, her words trailing off when she realized Chris was standing before her in nothing but a towel riding dangerously low on his hips. Suddenly, every one of her senses heightened. His fresh scent enveloped her and his near-naked body sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. He looked perfect with his damp hair and that chuckle escaped him as she looked on, had her shifting from one foot to another on her spot. She realized how wet she was getting just having him so close to her.

‘’You okay?’’ Chris asked and as his eyes raked over her tiny body, she became acutely aware that she was barely wearing anything. She took a deep breath that helped her chest heave and pushed out towards him. She only gave a nod, unable to form words…too scared to form words.

‘’Evie,’’ Chris said and took a step towards her ‘’you can’t go on with your heart on loan. Your heart aches and I want to heal it. My heart aches! We can heal together. If there is ever anything you need to know, it’s that I felt like my world fell apart when all that happened and I didn’t think clearly. The hurt I felt overtook all reasoning. Can we please fix this? You’re too scared to take my hand and believe the truth, but please try. I will never break again. Why won’t you just talk to me?’’

Eva shook her head and started walking away but Chris grabbed her wrist. ‘’Why?’’ he asked, persistent

‘’Because Chris,’’ Eva said, her feelings for him rushing forward like a freight train, ‘’because I might say something I shouldn’t.’’

‘’What?’’ he asked

Eva groaned and tried to walk away again trying to hold her composure. She felt herself starting to get unglued. However, Chris was still holding her wrist.

‘’Just talk to me!’’ he said starting to raise his voice

All Eva’s feelings started bubbling over, which she had desperately tried to push away, and Chris wouldn’t let her go so she could simmer down. ‘’I can’t because I'm scared I might say something like I still love you!’’ the words had just tumbled out her mouth.

Her eyes widened and she gasped, then clasped a hand over her mouth. Chris slowly grinned and took another step towards her.

‘’I love you too,’’ he said and let go of her wrist, lifting his hand to her cheek. She let her hand fall from her mouth as he tilted her head up to meet his. ‘’I love you more than I can ever express.’’

Eva let out a soft whimper and stood on her tippy toes meeting his lips. She pushed her lips to his and then pulled back. Chris slipped an arm around her waist and placed his hand on the small of her back, then pulled her closer to him. Eva smiled again, their lips inches from each other. She snaked a hand around to the back of his neck and although she knew he wanted to kiss her, she also knew he was waiting for her to. He needed her to.

Eva put her lips on his and kissed him, then again, and again until neither could take it anymore and both parted their lips. Their tongues intertwined and danced as they deepened the kiss, craving and savoring the taste of each other. She stood up on her tippy toes again, wanting more of him. As she stood on her tippy toes, Chris’ hand moved down to her ass and he cupped a cheek and squeezed it. Eva let out a muffled, soft moan, pushing her body to his and grinding against his hard dick just as Chris's phone started to ring.

‘’Fuck!’’ Chris shouted when he pulled from the kiss. He wanted to ignore it but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on anything if he had to wonder the whole time if it was one of his brothers needing to speak to him. Or his mom or dad.

‘’Answer,’’ Eva said and Chris reached over and grabbed his phone.

Eva bit her bottom lip studying him again. She had never met anyone like Chris and she constantly compared other men to him. He was right, she always had her heart on loan…because it belonged to him and she always had it on loan for him because she did love him but maybe it was time to stop punishing him and herself.

Lost in her thoughts, she wasn’t paying attention to what Chris was saying, but when he said the name ‘’Charlotte’’ she suddenly found herself wondering if she was doing the right thing. She started walking away but when she got to half way to the stairs, she felt Chris grab her arm gently. She stopped in her tracks and Chris stepped around her and held out his hand, then waved his index finger in the air from side to side, indicating to not leave. She felt herself getting wetter with that finger he was moving around. Oh, he did great things with those long fingers.

‘’Please,’’ Chris mouthed to her and she gave a nod, but Chris, unsure grabbed her arm again and pulled her to the wall.

‘’Hey,’’ Chris said into the phone, ‘’I can’t make it, I told you that already.’’

Chris stood in front of Eva and extended his free arm, putting his hand against the wall, next to her head. He closed his eyes for a second and sucked in a breath. Who ever he was on the phone with, was starting to irritate him.

‘’I’m going to turn my phone of now. Just a warning in advance so you don’t accuse me of something,’’ he said and opened his eyes again, pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call. He shook his head and tossed his phone to a pile of merch clothing he was going through earlier and just haphazardly dropped to the floor.

He looked at Eva who raised her brows. ‘’That was just an influencer we know. She gets drunk and phones us to ask if we want to party with her which never happens so it gets irritating. She’ll phone tomorrow and apologize and do the same thing will happen tomorrow night. So why were you leaving?’’ he asked

‘’I thought…’’ Eva said and trailed off

‘’Thought what?’’ he asked, pushing for an answer

‘’You were busy,’’ she responded softly

‘’I wasn’t. Unless it’s you or my family, I’m not busy. Were you going to come back up?’’ he asked, his frustration starting to grow

‘’I don’t know, I got tired’’ Eva said softly

Chris sighed and swept the palm of his hand over his face in an effort to control his frustration. He wanted to scream but instead, calmingly said, ‘’you weren’t tired a few minutes ago.’’

‘’I…I just got tired,’’ she said and Chris stepped real close to her. He shook his head from side to side, slowly and put his other hand on the wall beside her head. Eva looked up at him as he looked down, meeting her eyes.

‘’What changed? We were ready to fuck. You wanted my dick, Eva, I know you did! I know all your tell tail signs. We fucked enough for me to know. What happened?’’ Chris asked and even though Eva was caged, he loved that she wasn’t one bit scared of him. She was captured and cornered but she showed no fear. He loved that she was always, always comfortable around him.

‘’Answer me, Evie,’’ he said and Eva’s breathing picked up, her chest rising and falling

‘’What?’’ Eva asked in a breath with a small shake of her head

Chris moved in even closer to Eva, bending his elbows slowly, ‘’do you want to fuck me?’’ he asked

She closed her eyes, her breathing didn’t slow and she unconsciously bit her lower lip. Chris smiled and leaned in to whisper in her ear, ‘’I think you do. I think that's exactly what you want. I was in the room this morning looking for a t-shirt while you were showering so I know what you did in there cause I heard you, and I also know you want the real thing.’’

Chris was close enough that, her breasts were brushing against his chest as her breathing elevated. Chris started getting hard, and the heat washed through him. ‘’I could be wrong though. Maybe you don’t want my dick in you, stretching you, making you cum…filling you up with my cum…’’

The bottle of water Eva was holding, slipped through her hand and fell to the floor but neither cared. She opened her eyes and locked hers with his. There was a desperation in them. A need. A craving. A hunger. They all matched the look in his. He knew she still wanted him.

‘’Say it. Say ‘‘I don’t want you to fuck me, Chris,’’’ he said

Eva let her bottom lip bounce back into place and she shook her head slowly but only slightly, though, deliberately. Left first, then right.

‘’Eva, if you don’t answer me, if you don’t say it…I’m ripping that top off, with your panties then, I’m throwing you onto the couch and we’re fucking. Tick Tock.’’

Eva rolled her plump lips between her teeth and blinked at him, then she dropped her eyes. She lifted an arm between herself and Chris, accidentally brushing the bulge under the towel. Chris sucked in a sharp breath and his hand curled up into a fist against the wall.

‘’Eva, time's running out, baby girl,’’ Chris said through clenched teeth, and when she still didn’t look at him or reply he gave up on the standoff. He was willing to give up his position...in a sense. He grabbed the back of Eva’s head and pulled her head closer to his. Their lips brushing, he said, ‘’times up,’’ and pushed his lips to hers.

He smiled when his lips parted hers and her tongue was the first to invade. Like a strike to flint, they ignited. Chris didn’t want to go all the way downstairs and the couches were the next best thing. Without disconnecting, he turned her around and guided her to the living room. Once next to the couch, Chris’s hands found her delicate little sting panties and she gasped into his mouth when it snapped apart with the first strong tug and silently hit the floor. He then fisted two handfuls of her top and since there were a few buttons at the top, and was so thin, it was easy for him to rip the material in two. He shoved it off her shoulders and down her arms until it was cascading to the floor. As the material settled around their feet, Eva yanked the towel off of him and tossed it aside. Her hands went back to him and she ran them along his V line and Chris sucked in a sharp breath.

Eva smiled and pulled away from the kiss. ‘’Where’s everyone? Shouldn’t we go to the -’’

‘’They went out,’’ he said cutting her off, ‘’they won’t be back for awhile.’’

She smiled again and she was just going to fall to her knees wanting to desperately taste him again but he easily lifted her and threw her onto the couch. He was torn for a second wanting her warm mouth and tongue around his cock – she was so good at it, but he needed to be inside her again. She let out a squeal, bounced once and steadied herself with her elbows and feet against the cushions.

‘’We can do all that later…and trust me, I wanna taste you again too cause I’ve never had anything sweeter but right now I need to fuck that tight little pussy so bad,’’ he said said scrambling onto the couch. With her legs splayed open showing her oh so smooth pussy to him, he could tell she was well wet, along with his pre-cum he knew they would be just fine.

He got between her thighs, aimed at her pussy and then he thrust deep inside knocking the breath out of both of them. She was wet against him, but so fucking tight, he didn't think I would be able to move in and out.

"Jesus," he groaned when she choked his cock further using the muscles surrounding it. He collapsed on top of her, hooking her knee with one arm and caging her head with the other. He felt her hands slide around the low of his back, then her hips shifted, grinding against him, and suddenly he was gone and the fire took over. He pulled nearly all the way out, dragging a moan from her, then slammed back in with an answering grunt. Then again. And again.

Her hips lifted with his, helping him dig deeper, and maximizing their contact. Every inch of her body was touching his and he finally dropped her leg, then kissed her deeply, sensually. She moaned with pleasure and he pulled from the kiss, feeling her pussy around him starting to slowly contract. He sat up and sped up his thrusts, desperate to feel her fall apart around him again. And she did. ‘’Already?’’ Chris asked

She nodded and she clamped around him with a vice-like grip as her orgasm elevated.

‘’Ohhh fuck,’’ she said and reached out trying to find anything to grip onto. Chris leaned over her and closed his hands over hers, intertwining his fingers with hers. She cried out as her orgasm hit her with full force, almost deafening Chris, but he gladly would have taken a slight loss of his hearing.

When she finally stopped shaking, he sat up again and grinned down at her.

‘’Fuck off…it’s been awhile,’’ she said with a laugh

Chris laughed and leaned over her again, wanting to kiss her again. She was the best he had ever had, hands down and he wanted more of her in every way possible.

As they kissed, he pulled out her, making her whimper into the kiss. She pulled back, giving him a confused look.

‘’Whose pussy is this?’’ Chris said sitting up straight again

‘’Yours, Chris, always,’’ she said

Chris, still smiling, diving her crazy, swiped his thumb over her clit.

‘’Fuck! Chris!’’ Eva said after a body jolt and taking in a sharp intake of air

Chris chuckled, ‘’I wanna hear you say it,’’ he said

‘’Fuck me, Chris,’’ she said through gritted teeth

‘’Be nice,’’ he said chuckling

‘’Now!’’ she answered back, making him laugh

‘’Fuck yes!’’ he said and got off the couch and put his knees on the floor. Thank the fuck Eva tossed the towel so close because she wasn’t great at throwing things after all. Eva began to protest but he grabbed her and pulled her to him. He turned her so her face and tits were facing the cushion. Chris drank in the spectacular view. He kept her legs between his, nearly pressing her thighs together, and worked his cock back into her pussy, burying it to the hilt. "Oh my God." Her head came off the couch and her back arched. Chris leaned forward, ‘’you feel so fucking amazing,’’ he breathed and found her lips, then kissed her. He sent one hand to her clit and the other skated up her spine and around her body to a breast. Eva broke the kiss with his first thrust and moaned loudly. The second, she took all of him.

‘’Holy shit, that’s so deep,’’ Eva said through a laugh

‘’You okay?’’ Chris asked holding still,

‘’A-fucking-mazing. Don’t stop, Chris,’’ she said

With a laugh, Chris started thrusting into her with fervent. He worked faster on her clit and moans of the utmost pleasure filed the room from both of them. Chris’ hand moved from her breast to her neck and he gently pulled her back so she was kneeling with her back plastered to his chest. "Jesus you’re perfect, Eva,’’ he said next to her ear

‘’I’m… going to… cum so hard,’’ Eva said feeling the build up in her muscles. ‘’I can feel it. Cum for me,’’ he said. She grew tighter at every thrust and wetter, too. ‘’I’m close too.’’

Her breathing got faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her skin had a fine sheen to it.

‘’Oooh Fuuuck, yes, yes, yes!’’ Eva screamed and he was prepared for her intense grip on him, the rush of cum, and the contractions around his cock. But the shaking. Fuck. Her arms tried to find purchase, first on the couch, then by reaching back for him. Her hips lurched as she tried to fuck him back. A scream tore out of her and Chris was rewarded with a wet sensation against his groin area. His hand left her clit so he could encircle her waist to hold her through it. His other hand stayed lightly on her neck but he moved his forearm between her breasts and clutched her close as his own climax rushed forward.

‘’Oh Fuck! I’m…’’ Chris moaned then let out a lengthy groan with pleasure as his climax hit him head on. A massive load was pumped into Eva and she was triggered into another orgasm as he filled her womb near to bursting. Eva’s orgasm ripped through her body and she screamed as another flow was released from her. Chris eased his grip around her, when she pushed forward and she collapsed on the couch. Chris, although panting hard and still pumping in and out of her slowly as she rode out her climax, smacked her ass and squeezed it. He smiled at the perfect view in front of him. She was tiny and the most perfect round, toned ass. An ass cheek fit into his hand perfectly. They were both wet, dripping and glistening from cum and juices.

‘’Chris,’’ Eva murmured, pulling from his memorised state of pure bliss.

‘’Yeah, Evie?’’ he said said.

Eva let out a small, exhausted laugh, ‘’can we do that again?’’ she asked

Chris let out a laugh and leaned forward as her pulled his still hard dick out of her. ‘’Fuck yes. That was fucking amazing,’’ Chris said and found her lips when she lifted her head.

She didn’t have to ask…Chris was not only planning on doing it again many times, but he wanted to make up for lost time too. There was no more heart on loan. It was a sold given to Chris.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fluff

[josyplumpie]

Author’s notes: I’m doing this so I don’t have to actually work so is not proofread or anything just… yea.

You don’t even understand what happened and how did it unfold until this moment right here, with his thick calloused fingers buried inside you and his tongue lapping eagerly at your swollen clit like a starved mutt.

He has you lying on your dining table, the only light source the moonlight strikes peaking trough the curtains, you can barely see him entirely but fuck does he know how to eat your pussy just like you deserve it.

It was well past midnight and you had too many drinks to count when a creep started bullying his way into your personal space at the club. You didn’t have the strength or sobriety to do something other than try to swear him off and when it didn’t work, you clang to a strangers arm and to your drunken surprise he went along with it, immediately keeping you safe from the creep and mostly shoving him away with careless effort. A firm hand around your waist and a whispered promise of taking you home so he can sleep knowing that the creep didn’t follow you only to ease his hand on your inner thigh and squeeze it every time he stops at a red light.

Only he did not said goodbye at your door and left for good. He pushed the door open and with it, he pushed you inside and shove his tongue down your throat. You whimpered, melting against his rough hands and he was done for. You were his to death. There would be no such thing as the three dates rule, or three months rule, you were his. Period. He would die and kill for you.

But right now, he satisfied his deed with making you cum as hard as he could, a grim smile plastered on his face as you writhe and mewl under his touch.

“Sir… Please” your voice surges, a strained plea, you don’t even know his name yet. Your head lifting to try and beg for mercy because whatever he’s doing has you broken apart. You never felt such deep pleasure in every detail about this moment — his digits curling perfectly into your gummy walls, your slick pouring from your cunt and into his lips and jaw, dripping on the hard wood that bites at your hips deliciously painful, his warm tongue ripping sinful moans from you.

“Yea, pet?” He mutters against your swollen lips, pausing for half a second, enough only to bore his eyes at your spent face. He then flattens his hand on top of your womb, holding you down while his other hand sneaks around your thigh to spread your pussy open and fuck you with his tongue while keeping the eye contact.

You whine again under the searing heat from his stare and let your head thump against the table and let him fuck you dumb. He’s not stopping just because asked nicely, you also don’t want it to stop because he’s oh so good and his piercing eyes hold a strange thing that makes your belly flutter violently. So you let him. Completely unaware of his intentions of never again leaving you.

#simon ghost riley #cod smut #ghost smut #obsessed!ghost #pwp #simon riley x you #simon riley

[sleepyfan-blog]

Pattern Recognition

Author’s Note: this is the second part of mer-Sirass fic!  Previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel 

Warnings: mention of illness and parasites (fish variety) 

Summary: Sirass figures out the cause of the sick reef.

Sirass glared down at his bonded, arms folded over his chest as he looks down at you “And why do you not want me to come with you while you are inspecting the sickened reef?”

You sigh and remind him “You can read through the data that we've recorded, collate it and find connections between different incidents much faster than any of the rest of our team. That and… The Reef and the fish and other sea life who depend on it are getting much sicker over the past several months. The number of parasites and sheer variety of them is unlike anything any of us have ever seen. I… I know that you have an incredible immune system and that your armor somehow helps you to survive the depths of space… But-” you reach out and lightly touch the grumpy Iron Warrior's hand with one of your own, squeezing gently “I worry about you. We don't know the source behind these sicknesses. I would feel awful if You came down with something while helping me with this issue.”

“What about you? I know that you've told me that aquatic diseases can't affect you, and that threatened aquatic parasites are unable to penetrate through your swimming gear, but I want to be there to protect you. Besides, despite my many excellent skills, data processing is best left to-” Sirass grumbled before he stopped talking mid-sentence, as a horrified expression appeared on his face.

He swum through the air as fast as he could, large form blurring for several moments as he picked up a damaged piece of diving equipment. His fingers shook a little as he inspected it, face pale and expression unreadable “Do you know how this happened?”

“Yes, Doctor Alenfil had to do an emergency evac to the surface a couple of hours ago after his equipment started malfunctioning out of nowhere. I saw him do the double check myself. He said he was mobbed by dark green creatures that burbled and cackled - two of them sparked electricity and they tried to bite him. Luckily he was able to scare them off by hitting them with his shark baton… Are you okay, Sirass?”

Sirass let out a series of probable-curse words in his native tongue. He darted over to the table and sketched out the rough shape of a strange looking little monster. It has many pointed teeth and three too many eyes for your taste, and small, thin tails “Did they look similar to this?” Heasked, tone urgent and eyes wide.

“I'll have to check with Parris, but from his description, yes.” You respond, alarmed by how distressed Sirass was. You take a snapshot of the picture and text your colleague, who was currently being treated for the bends, having had to go up to the surface to avoid drowning after his oxygen tank had been bitten through. Less than a minute later, you had your answer. It was a simple one word answer, which you passed onto Sirass. “Yes, that's what attacked him, why?”

“Fuck fuck fuck! This is far more dangerous than I first thought. You need to quarantine that reef and the surrounding lands for at least 8 miles in every direction. Fuck! Why didn't I see this sooner?” Sirass growls, swimming back and forth in the air in agitation. “... I'll need to contact the chapter masters. They're likely going to get the Salamanders involved.”

You blink in confusion, asking “we do have the Reef and the surrounding waters condoned off. Why eight miles specifically? What's going on? Who are the Salamanders? What is a chapter master? Sirass! Please talk to me.”

“Eight is a number sacred to the worshippers of decay and disease. I should have known weeks ago this was their doing. Chapter Masters lead the major pods. Like captain's, but on a much larger scale. Salamanders can and will set anything on fire. Which is what we'll need to do.. and where is that… Where is Pollux? He is a Son of Dorn, but will know the danger of the situation and help me in calling for the necessary people.”

“Hold on! No one is setting anything on fire! worshippers of what now?” You were delighted to get confirmation that the different pods of Astartes did in fact communicate with one another more than the occasional snarling hiss exchange with the bright yellow and black astartes who was partners with Doctor Smithson, another member of your conservation team. You still didn’T know who Dorn - nor Perturabo - was. Neither wanted to elaborate. “How would belief cause destruction?”

“... I will explain when I can, my heart. But this is too dangerous, too urgent to pause for explanations. That reef and all those afflicted animals will need to be killed and burnt. To avoid further contamination. As will all of the samples taken. The risk to everyone is too high, even if the samples are kept in lab conditions for study. This is no mere illness in the waters caused by simple waste, temperature or salinity changes. It's far worse. More sinister and deliberate.” Sirass warned before yellowing at the top of his lungs “POLLUX YOU UGLY YELLOW BASTARD! WE HAVE A MAJOR PROBLEM!”

Seconds later Pollux entered the room, scowling. So did most of the conservation team, all looking puzzled. The Imperial fist asked impatiently “What is it now, Iron Warrior?”

“Doctor Alenfil was nearly killed by a Nurgling when it bit through his air tank.” Sirass stated.

Pollux swore explosively in a dozen languages, as he started reaching for his helmet. “This is catastrophic! We should coordinate on who is calling which chapter master.”

“You speak with the Carrion-Worshippers, and I'll handle the Chaos-aligned.” Sirass suggested.

“He is not- you know what? I'm not getting into an argument with you over his holiness, not when we have a budding Garden of Blight on our hands.” Pollux hissed.  Both astartes swam off together, voices tense and unhappy.

The rest of the conservation team descend on you, and you answer their questions to the best of your abilities.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #my writing #oc: Sirass #adeptus astartes x reader #Celestial Seas AU

[rabbithaver]

oh my god i am so stupid

#i. forgot to mention my pain medication at my doctor appointment today. so i had every other medication refilled except that one #i emailed my doctor to see if he could send a prescription to the pharmacy because i am An Idiot #let's hope it works out #every month. every fucking month something happens #rabbit.txt

[charlottan]

they should invent some sort of system that gets medication to the pharmacy on time

[vivifrage]

I think with Lightfall like. It's fun. I had a good time. A blast, even! Especially with the gameplay, even when I got frustrated because I was playing Legendary and I'm not a good gamer.

It's action movie fun. Which is what it intended to be, really, from all the tropes and the pacing of it. But it got bodied with sudden roadmap changes and Witch Queen as video game Oscar bait.

Yeah, I think it could have used a breather to bond more with Rohan especially, but there was in-game justification for going fast and I'm sure the format A Destiny Expansion(tm) limited the team. We saw it bad in Witch Queen's seasons, and Bungie acknowledged that yeah the seasons structure was limiting them. As someone who works in software dev, nobody likes having to make things worse. But it happens a lot. Sometimes in really bullshit ways that the software folks wouldn't expect to be that level of bullshit, let alone anyone who isn't working with the software day in and day out. And by bullshit I mean "massive overhaul of the entire system just to make one tiny change" kinds of bullshit. Again, nobody likes it. I promise you.

Back to Lightfall. It's a fun action movie. It's also the plot point we'd been hurtling towards since Witch Queen, and probably even well before that: The Darkest Hour. We're struggling to use this new power in time, the mysteries around us have unraveled but in the end it's too late for us to get the upper hand, and it nearly costs us everything. In the year beforehand, we'd been losing in one way or another at the end of the seasons: Crow kills the Psion, our rituals fail to stop Calus, Eramis gets away, Rasputin dies. The Witness accesses the Traveler.

What it also does is it sets up the rest of the year for our Triumphant Finale. We get a thread to follow - how to get into the Traveler - and chase it through the year, alongside other threads like what the Veil is and how we're gonna deal with Xivu Arath. As of the end(ish) of Wish, we've got our answer and are primed for The Final Shape as our finale.

But first we had to have The Darkest Hour. Which, in the short term, being what it is, is a bummer. No getting around it. It's also part of why comparisons to Witch Queen went awry, IMO.

Witch Queen is, as I said before, the Oscar bait, insofar as an MMO looter-shooter has Oscar bait. It puts the tangled web front and center instead of tracing one thread and then zooming out to show the whole thing. It's more philosophical in nature, sitting back and asking us whether we think we're special and what really separates us from one of the enemies we hadn't forged alliances with yet: the Hive. And, of course, if we'd noticed the puppetmaster behind it all. It ties up the question that's been going on since Forsaken: are we the bad guys? (No, not really, we're struggling to survive the way everyone else is. Which, nobody else we've been fighting is really "the bad guy" either.)

It's a really good storyline! I loved it, even if, honestly, I didn't like the gameplay as much as Lightfall. I think it's earned its good reviews and positive reception.

But it is the Oscar bait. And unlike Lightfall, its plot role didn't require the same downer ending. It could sprawl, and honestly? I don't think it would have worked as our Darkest Hour. Not without screwing up the story and making a jumbled mess. Seriously, I don't think Destiny's "everyone gets a second chance" philosophy would have carried well at all if The Darkest Hour was when the Hive got Ghosts. Instead it would have reinforced our misconception at the beginning of Lightfall - that we are the sole rightful Lightbearers and that the Hive getting the Light was a wrongdoing.

Destiny did need something between Witch Queen and The Final Shape. And they moved things - but announced it less than a year before Lightfall released. At their big press conference-y deal, but still. Limited time for folks to get the news.

And then it came out and it was an action movie, not Oscar bait. But it followed Oscar bait, so that's what the expectation was.

Personally, I'm fond of, say, Moonlight. Fantastic movie. Beautiful and heartfelt. I enjoyed it and I think it is worthy of its high praise. But if you ask me what my favorite movie is, I'll say it's a tossup between Pacific Rim and Mad Max: Fury Road. They fit different niches in the cultural ecosystem - Moonlight isn't a bad Pacific Rim and Pacific Rim isn't a bad Moonlight. Not unless you pit them against each other despite their vast differences.

Also I remember there was lots of complaining about how empty Neomuna was at first, but everything about the CloudArk and especially the lorebook is such early pandemic-era fiction.

Lightfall is a good action movie. Witch Queen is good Oscar bait. Both of them have their strong points and weak points. There are technical factors that limit things. There are other external factors that limit things (looking at you, upper management).

It's fair to critique a story but like, I dunno. Bungie's devs, writers, and artists aren't idiots or evil or out to get you specifically. Lightfall is fine but you can't - and shouldn't - expect it to be Witch Queen.

Please, for the love of everything holy, don't let us repeat the nasty bitchy maelstrom we got around Lightfall. Or I'll start shitting in ovens.

#destiny 2 #destiny spoilers #i'm glad things have generally chilled out in the fandom #but i fear what will happen come TFS #and also between Destiny and Sims and shit i'm tired of everyone acting like devs don't care about bad products #i think just about every human wants to be proud of their work! #especially when it's something that's taken months or years to make #and it really fucking sucks to be hamstrung by The Bullshit(tm)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

strangling my past self How Did You Write Reasonably Sized Fics So Easily

#IVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO NOT GET CARRIED AWAY HELP #sitting here with scenes that should NOT BE 5 THOUSAND FUCKING WORDS LONG HELLOOOOOOOOO #my brain: You Have To Show Every Single Thing. Every Convo. Every Action. They Have To Know #NO! THEY DONT! ITS CLUTTERED AND BORING AND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #see this is what happens when you don't write seriously for FUCKIGN MONTHS- #its fine we're fine im Calm #trying to edit my own stuff is like wrangling some Wild Beast with my bare hands #she has horns! i am bleeding from Several large punctures! i will not let go! #absolutely unprompted #past me: bangin out 2k-5k fics that include multiple scenes and conversations each of perfect length #me now: and so this simple 'good morning' exchange will take ten pages- #WAILING WAILING #but god damn i need to create Something i have to i have to #i feel like im losing my mind.... #I WANT TO BE POSTING FIC AGAIN CMON CMON

[coockie8]

I don't know which miserable, anti-AO3 dickhead needs to hear this, but nobody is obligated to donate to you, especially when you're being an entitled cunt about it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#ao3 discourse #every time ao3 does a donation drive we get like hundreds of posts about how #people who donate to ao3 should donate that money to people essentially panhandling online #not realising that 1: people can donate to more than one thing if they want #there's not like a donation quota that says each person can only donate to one thing per month or whatever #and 2: we actually know exactly where the money is going when we give it to ao3 #that random internet panhandler could be a fucking scam for all I know and I don't really have a way of figuring out whether or not it is #this happens a *lot* more than I think people realise #so when my funds are low #but I still wanna donate #yeah I'm gonna donate to something that I 100% know where the money is going #and not some random person online who could be scamming me out of my money for all I know #you do not get to tell me how to spend my money #and being an entitled little shit about it is not going to get people to donate to you or anyone else who might need it