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poinsexter · 5 months

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7 Minutes in Heaven {obx - jm}

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem Pogue!Reader (kinda some John B x reader if you squint)

Summary: pogue!reader gets selected for a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven with JJ—this should be no big deal, right?

Warnings: drinking, smoking, swearing, suggestive flirting, idk? Mild angst. Mostly fluff

Word count: 2,671

A/N: hiii this is my first time ever posting my own lil fanfic to tumblr. I’m sorry if there are any errors:(( I usually write original fiction but this was in my head and I couldn’t get it out. I hope someone gets some enjoyment from it <3 there is a John B alt ending written but idk if I’ll post. Let me know what you beauties thinnnnk:)

When a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ didn’t sound juicy enough to the sexed up tourons, a blue-shirt wearing frat bro suggested everyone partake in a game of 7 Minutes In Heaven. The pogues were never one to back down from a challenge—least of all you, who’d kissed all of your friends at some point or another.

You took a sip of beer from the paper cup in your hand, but not even drowning yourself in drinks could save you as John B and a touron girl exited the closet, heralding your turn next. He wore a lazy, drunken smile, dancing to the beachy music thumping from a nearby amp.

“Tourons pick the lamest party games.” You hid your bundle of stress underneath a coy joke. “We could be playing flip cup instead.”

“You were laughing when it was Sarah and me.” Kie filed into the room next with a fresh beer in hand, brushing your cheek with the other hand as she passed. “Not so smug now, babes, huh?”

She plopped down on the arm of the chair Pope sat on with his feet kicked up, rolling a backwood.

“Of course it’s funny when it’s not me. That’s how it works,” you said.

John B’s laugh rang out as he orbited around your back, to your side, appearing in your peripheral. You turned slightly, cup pressed against your bottom lip.

“How about you finish off that liquid courage,” John B used his index finger to tip the bottom of the cup up to goad you into chugging. You tried not to laugh into the drink as you complied, drinking the remainder of its contents. “Atta girl. Now lighten up, buzz kill, ‘cause it’s your turn.”

You tossed the now-empty cup at his head with a laugh, watching as he swatted it away. “Like you need an excuse to makeout with someone in a closet.”

“Seven minutes of swapping bacteria.” Pope chimed in from his spot on the recliner as he sparked the lighter. “In the best way possible.”

Kie crossed her arms. “You don’t have to kiss anyone.”

JJ burst around the corner into the room, beer spilling from the bottle in his hand as he caught the last half of the conversation. “Hey, don’t say that! We all have to follow the rules.”

“What rules, JJ?” You rolled your eyes. “The ones you pull out of your ass?”

“Yeah, I can jot them down for you.” He feigned looking around the room, touching his chest for imaginary pencil pockets as the bottle sloshed in his hand. “Anyone got a pen? Maybe a marker? Crayon, perhaps?”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” You conceded with another laugh. “Pour me up a shot and let me make someone’s day!”

Kie hopped off the couch with a grin and began lining up shot glasses on the counter. JJ’s hand cradled the small of your back while John B approached your other side, watching as JJ poured a messy line of contents from the tap across all of the shot glasses.

Every pogue picked one up, preparing to throw them back, when John B took the one from your hand and raised a mischievous brow. “Open up, little loverrr.”

You gave a wide grin before obeying the command, opening up your mouth and sticking out your tongue to prepare for the waterfall of liquor.

John B tossed back his own shot in one fluid motion before pouring the second shot into your mouth. Once the contents were fully polished off you squeezed your eyes shut as an involuntary shiver ran through you, the warmth working its way down your throat and through your chest.

“You missed some.” John B grabbed your cheeks and yanked you closer, playfully slurping the backsplash from the skin around the corner of your mouth and cheek.

“HEYYY NOW!” JJ gave an energetic clap of his hands before pointing at you and John B. “Save it for the closet!”

You shoved John B away from you with laughter almost as if he were an over-zealous puppy before leaning over to smack JJ’s arm. “Oh please, I know you have your fingers crossed hoping it’s me and you.”

You didn’t interpret the playful action as John B making a move on you despite JJ’s joke. You were all particularly affectionate with each other—and for as affectionate as you were, you also gave each other just as much shit.

“Alright, it’s TIME!” said Kie, grabbing you by the shoulders and steering you in Pope’s direction. “Pull the name.”

Pope remained on the couch, but now had a ball cap flipped upside down in his hand with jumbled up scraps of paper inside. He grumbled. “I don’t know how I ended up relegated to this role.”

“Because you’re the most trustworthy,” said Kie. “And the least likely to fuck it up.”

“Can’t argue there.” Pope pulled a piece of paper from the cap. “You will be joined by…” he unfurled the paper. “JJ!”

As JJ looked over at you with that arrogant flirty ease, you couldn’t place why you suddenly felt a spike of nerves. Your feet almost felt as if they had forgotten how to work, with Sarah swooping in to usher you toward the closet, JJ not far behind.

Seven minutes in a closet should be nothing compared to all the drunken nights you’d cuddled up on the chateau’s pullout couch together. The party was in full swing, the perfect time to cut loose, and still, you couldn’t fight the soft apprehension prickling at your palms.

The closet in question was unlike anything you’d grown up with, but that was to be expected anytime you partied at a kook house. It was more akin to a closet like Sarah’s, though it wasn’t overflowing with near as much color or fun crop tops as hers.

You looked around at the designer labels and scrunched your nose. “God, why do kooks need such big closets?”

“Yeah, I’m not digging all the space between us.” Without warning, JJ slipped an index finger into the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you closer until you were only inches apart. “Much better, thanks for the cooperation, princess.”

“You’re getting way too much enjoyment out of this, it’s worrying.”

“Afraid I’ll bite?” He clacked his teeth in your face playfully, smirking when he couldn’t make you flinch.

“Biting doesn’t scare me.” You couldn’t help yourself as you pressed in closer to his face, daring him to retaliate. “You’ll have to try harder, Jay.”

He dropped his hold on the belt loop and pressed his hands into you stomach, shoving you against the wall until you back was flush with the surface, caught between the cold of the wall and the warmth of his body.

“How about now, cupcake? Scared?” He paused and lifted a brow, smirk sweeping up his mouth. He leaned closer. “That toe-curling thing you’re feeling is called sexual tension, my friend.”

Said tension between you was palpable, even after he slacked to give you the space back, satisfied with the effect he’d visibly had on you. Words died in your throat. For the first time ever, you were speechless. JJ, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, content to chatter away.

“We had our first kiss in a closet just like this one.” JJ looked delighted by the memory. "You remember?”

”Don’t call it ‘our first kiss’ like we were ever a thing.” Your composure faltered, but it was a fond memory nonetheless. “Shame on me for choosing ‘dare’ over ‘truth’—I thought I’d get to do something cool like scale a flag pole, but no. Got stuck sucking face with you.”

"Okay, ouch,” he feigned offense, clutching his chest. “I've gotten a lot better at kissing since then.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the heat that was creeping up your neck. "Well, we were like thirteen, so I’d really hope so."

JJ leaned in a little closer again. "I've been thinking about that kiss a lot lately, you know.”

Your walls went up, afraid of being vulnerable. He’d played with your feelings one too many times over the years out of boredom. You used to think when he was flirting he meant it, and that had led to too much confusion. Rather than pine over him forever, you’d grown comfortable with your role of best friend.

Anything more—girlfriend, fuck buddy, situationship—would spell nothing but trouble.

You deflected by teasing him. “You’ve been thinking about a bad kiss from middle school? Find better hobbies.”

“That’s the thing—I need to redeem myself,” he said. “You never wonder what it would be like to try it again now that we’re older? More… seasoned?”

“Don’t be dumb.” Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried not to let it show. "This is just a fun party game, not an opportunity for you to get lucky.”

“What does that cute little tattoo on your ass say again?” He snapped his fingers and feigned as if recalling. “Lucky you.”

You made a sputtering noise, floored by the comeback. You’d been in a bikini around the pogues enough times that they’d likely all seen the edge of said tattoo, but he would have had to pay attention to read it.

“God, you are such a shameless flirt!” You picked up a sandal from the closet floor and began smacking him with it. “What is with you tonight? You’re gonna start humping the keg stand before the party is over—“

“I wouldn’t be the man you know and love unless I flirted without remorse.” JJ flinched away from the sandal, laughing at your reaction. "Come on, you have to admit there's chemistry between us."

You felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body at his words. He was right, but you didn't know what to do about it—so again, you deflected. “You have chemistry with anything that has tits and legs.”

“Nah, it’s different with us,” he insisted. “And I’ll prove it.”

Before you could respond, JJ took a daring step forward, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips met yours in a searing kiss. It was gentle initially, testing the waters to see what you were okay with. As the kiss lingered, JJ took it as a sign to deepen things, the pace growing hungrier between you.

Your initial surprise gave way to something more passionate and explorative. Warmth pooled in your thighs as he tangled him hands in your hair, tongue making sensuous circles with your own. It was a moment suspended in time as your friendship burned away, scorching the earth until it became something uncharted. He awoke dormant feelings in you—emotions for him that you thought you’d long buried came rising to the surface at full force like a geyser.

“Seven minutes is up!” John B’s voice rang out.

You barely had time to fall apart from each other as the door pried open. A gasp tore through your mouth, accompanied by a jolt of surprise. For a brief moment it had only been you and JJ - the party on the other side of the door had completely disappeared to you.

John B leaned against the doorframe, gazing down at the wild blush staining your cheeks. Something like understanding registered in his gaze at the look on your face, but he quickly recovered the cool-guy charm.

“Either you crazy kids come out, or I’m gonna get serious FOMO and have to join.”

“Squeeze in, man, you’ll love it.” JJ leaned his head against your shoulder and smiled, looking completely unaffected by what had happened. “Plenty of room. Too much, honestly.”

You rolled your eyes, not understanding how he could be so jovial and collected as your heart threatened to pump out of your chest.

“No threesomes in this living room, alright, this ain’t a Hugh Hefner party.” said Pope. “Come smoke this blunt and stop being weird.”

As you exited the confines of the closet, which had felt like it’s own world, you couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if you had been in the closet for even a minute longer. Would hands have roamed further? Would JJ have had time to confess he was just fucking around with you, only he took it a bit farther than usual? You didn’t even know what you’d want him to say.

There wasn’t enough time to process what was happening or the repercussions of it—only that in the moment it had felt really, really good being with JJ. Whatever the absolute fuck that was about.

The unspoken tension had found its voice in that kiss, marking the beginning of the end. You didn’t know how you could look him in the eyes again after feeling his hands knotting through your hair. How could a moment change everything?

You avoided JJ for the next several hours, wrapping your mind around what had happened. If the other pogues noticed, they didn’t call you out on it. Not openly, anyway. Kie and John B were not subtle as they gossiped in hushed whispers, glancing between you and JJ at your two different places across the party.

Eventually, the drinks caught up to you. Coping with your alien feelings by attempting to numb them with alcohol hadn’t worked, of course, so now not only were you mentally spiraling but had also come down with a bad case of the spins.

To anchor yourself back to the moment, you slipped away from the party, which was just now starting to teeter off from its full swing, and exited out of the back door of the mansion onto a vacant area of porch.

Salty sea and crisp nighttime air instantly offered reprieve to your racing mind as you walked over to the wooden railing of the porch and leaned against it, reveling in the quiet.

A few minutes later, your quiet was disturbed by the sound of the sliding glass door opening up behind you. You turned to look at who’d followed, heart nearly leaping from your chest at the sight of JJ.

“Hey, you okay out here?” He stuck his head out of the door, quiet concern on his face. You nodded without verbal response. “Is it cool if we talk for a minute?”

You nodded again, feeling a nervous knot forming in your stomach. You didn’t want to imagine what he would say next. Still, you were both here now, and there was no use in prolonging the inevitable. “What's up?”

He closed the door behind himself. Here it comes, you thought. He’s going to confess that he was just teasing you—it meant nothing to him. All one big, meaningless flirt brought on by his name being pulled from a random lottery. If it’d been John B’s name called over JJ’s, JJ may have never looked at you twice otherwise. Not any differently than usual, anyway. Why did that possibility hurt so much?

“About the game…” He approached your side at the porch railing, looking less sure of himself than normal. “I know you’ve been avoiding me.”

Your reply was short. “Astute observation.”

“Don’t do that—don’t shut down.” His eyes cut right through you. “Look, I - I have something to admit.”

You steeled yourself for him to say something that would break you, but you wouldn’t show it. “Don’t leave me in suspense, Jay.”

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line by kissing you before…” There was a pause too long in the air as he contemplated whether or not to say the next words. “I bribed Pope to make sure he called my name for your turn.”

“You… what?”

“Don’t be mad.” He squeezed his eyes shut as if an admission of guilt physically pained him. After all, his motto had always been ‘deny, deny, deny.’ “It may or may not have been John B’s name on the paper that Pope actually pulled, but I’d slid him a $20 beforehand to make sure no one else got you.”

The uneasiness in your stomach slowly transformed into butterflies, tickling all the way up your throat until it evolved into belly-aching laughter. He wasn’t toying with you because he was bored or because it was convenient. He orchestrated this.

The laughter confused him. “Is that – wait – why are you laughing?”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me again.”

His features brightened, eyes glowing with a new, consuming adoration. He swept you in closer and brought his mouth down to yours, talking against your lips. “God, I’m so glad you said that. Playing it cool has been driving me crazy.”

#jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #john b routledge #john b x reader x jj #obx fanfiction #obx reader #obx #obx fic #pogue x reader #fluff #light angst #angst with a happy ending #outer banks #seven minutes in heaven #outerbanks #fanfic #mine

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mayfieldss · 1 year

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Eye contact - JJ Maybank

Warnings; mentions of abuse, arguments.

Summary; Staring contests with JJ to calm his nerves — this is an extended version of one of the headcanons in my 'Dating JJ Maybank would include;' post.

The Pouges were arguing again. Kie was shouting at John B, and John B was shouting at Pope. Pope was yelling at Kie and Sarah, well Sarah was screaming at everyone to shut up.

You and JJ on the other hand were the only ones quiet. JJ hated conflict between the Pouges. It reminded him of the bad times with his dad, when things would become really difficult for him at home. He would try his best to break up the fights between his friends, but sometimes there was no stopping a pot that had already boiled over.

So now, JJ turned to you, already silently waiting for him to do so. It was a thing you had together when tensions were high within your tight-knit group, JJ would look to you for comfort, but not in a way that made it obvious he was stressed out. That's how the staring contest came about.

Now you sat staring him down, watching a smile creep upon JJ's lips as he did the same to you. He wiggled his eyebrows, and you stuck out your tongue, all the while the two of you refused to blink. The game was, if you blinked or laughed, you lost. Often you were the first to blink, your eyes aching by the time the argument and game were done, and JJ was the first to laugh. He'd always been like that, the first to make a joke, or to find one funny.

The game started one day after JJ and his dad had an argument. You were sat on JJ's front porch, his dad hitting the wind to cool off, not before giving his son a few bruises, and you didn't know what to say to him. You'd said sorry in the same situation a thousand times before, because of course this wasn't a one-time thing. You'd told JJ multiple times after these incidents that you would always be there for him, and you'd threatened to give his dad a piece of your mind many a time as well. But on this particular day, you didn't know what to say, because you'd already said it all before. You shouldn't have had to say any of those things at all, let alone multiple times whilst consoling your best friend, and today was the exception. You sat staring at the boy beside you, his eyes red and puffy from crying, purple patches on his face, beginning to form. You had no doubt more were appearing under the fabric of his shirt as well.

He'd turned and locked eyes with you, and to stop yourself from crying at the sight of him, you'd pulled a funny face. Raised eyebrows and crossed eyes were enough to make JJ smile at least, and then he copied you.

"Staring contest JJ, ready set go." You had no idea where the idea sprung from, but it was there and without a second thought JJ was participating in the game. You sat like that for a while, winning and losing over and over until both you and JJ felt better.

You'd played the game ever since, and so now, whilst JJ was bouncing with anxiety over the Pouges fighting relentlessly, he turned to you, and he stared. You lent forward, the intensity of the battle growing as you too, forgot about the ongoing fight steps away from you. JJ sent you a look as if to say 'game on' before he too, shuffled forward in his seat.

Your eyes were already burning, and you widened them to keep yourself from giving in, but also because you knew it made JJ break. And he almost did. He snorted at the sight of you struggling so openly, but a laugh has to come from the mouth, so he was still in the game.

You got up from your chair, a last-ditch effort to win as you made your way forward to JJ, still seated and unblinking. "Give up now Maybank." Your voice was wobbly with the struggle of keeping your eyes open as you stood over him, and you watched JJ stand, forcing you to step back. "Not until you yield, L/N."

Your chests were practically touching as you looked up at him, and he stared down at you, until finally, you broke out laughing, JJ doing the same.

"Are you guys doing that fucking thing again?" the sound of John B's voice no longer arguing with the others broke through to the both of you.

"What even is it away, whatever y'all do?" Kie buts in before you can answer, and you and JJ realise that you've broken up the argument without even trying. He grins at you wildly, pulling you into his side and Pope comes to his own conclusion.

"It's a mating ritual I think, seriously guys if you want to kiss just do it because whatever this alternative is, it's weird."

JJ raises an eyebrow at you, something that translates as 'maybe we could try that later.' before he turns to the others.

"At least we shut y'all up."

GENERAL TAGLIST; @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads @hiya-its-amber @s00buwu

OUTER BANKS TAGLIST;

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adventuresinobx · 2 years

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Restraints

John B Routledge x fem!reader

Summary: John B might be confident on a treasure hunt - but less so in the bedroom. His new girlfriend (you) has been dreaming of something a little less - vanilla - when it comes to having sex. So when you suggest being tied up, how does he react?

A/N: Ahhh my first John B fic! Better late than never! I don't exactly know how I feel about this, but I hope you like it! I tagged everyone on my taglist so sorry if you're not into John B stuff! Also he’s such a softie I can’t cope.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking. He likes to tie her up etc. etc., you know the drill by now 😂

John B and you had been dating for around a month and a half now and you were desperate to try something different in the bedroom. You had had sex with him multiple times, of course - probably most days if you were honest - but there was a secret kink you were hiding from him.

You didn't know to tell him you liked to be tied up - you fantasised about it so much but you just didn't know how to approach the subject with him. That was until he and you were alone and had had a few drinks, and you finally felt brave enough to confess what you wanted.

"Baby, you're so drunk," you told him, both of you laughing as you leaned back on him in the hammock. At the change of weight, the hammock swung violently, nearly throwing the two of you on the floor below as you clutched onto him desperately.

"I think the hammock's drunk, not me," John B replied, smirking at you before erupting into fits of laughter. Both of you had had quite a lot to drink and with the others busy at some Pogue party you both didn't fancy going to, you knew you'd have the whole night to yourselves.

"I think you are, good job you're cute," you said, your words slurring. You were drunk enough that you weren't sure if you were even making sense - but not too drunk that you didn't know you wanted to have that talk with your boyfriend about the bedroom.

You took a deep breath as you, carefully this time, turned to face your boyfriend. You moved your hand to his hair and gently grazed your fingers through his hair. He immediately bowed his head to give you a better angle to play with his hair and you smiled at him.

You leaned in to kiss his cheek and in response, he turned his head to catch your lips with his and plant a kiss there too.

"Wanna go to bed?" he asked you, his lips falling to your neck. He well knew that when he did that, the answer would always be yes.

You nodded in response, biting your lip. Not hearing you answer, he looked up to you and locked eyes with you as you nodded again to tell him you wanted him right now.

It was a *mad* rush to the bedroom, the two of you almost stripping your clothes off as you went and when you did end up in his room, you were just in your underwear whilst he'd manage to rid himself of everything but his boxers.

He encouraged you to sit on the edge of the bed, standing at the end of the bed next to you. You took that moment to drink in his appearance. His chiselled abs were on show and his V-lines also looked super defined. There was also a trail leading you just to where you wanted to end up later. He was beautiful, but also the sexiest man you'd ever known.

"Fuck," he moaned, looking at you lying on the bed with just the black lace blocking what he wanted most. The way your skin contrasted with the bedsheets and the way the lace of your panties had fallen slightly below your hips made him weak.

He needed to have a taste of you and quickly.

“What?” you teased back, smiling at him from the bed as he lightly pushed you down onto the bed and climbed over you. He took a moment to kiss your lips hungrily and then started to focus on the weak spot behind your ear. He knew when he did that there was no turning back for both of you and soon you were grinding your hips up to meet his in a desperate attempt for some friction.

“Feels so good princess,” he said, the sound of his voice vibrating against the sensitive skin of your neck, “Keep going. Keep doing that. Yes.”

His head dropped down against your neck more as you both rocked your hips over one another’s, the material adding a kind of friction you had come to like.

His hair fell down in front of his face as he kept thrusting his hips up to meet yours. “So good baby, keep going,” you said, “Keep it like that. Yes.”

He loved how vocal you were in bed, actually that was something you both had in common. Your breathing got faster. It all felt too good. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the heat of the moment but the words just spilled out of your mouth.

“I want you to tie me up,” you said, pausing as soon as you had as you questioned whether it was the right thing to have said. His hips stopped moving and he looked up at you, using his hand to push his hair out of his face so his eyes could meet yours.

“You want me to what?” he stuttered and suddenly that confident man you knew had disappeared. “To tie you up? Like tie your hands?”

You immediately panicked, worried you’d just scared off the best thing that had ever happened to you. But on closer inspection, there was something about his eyes that made you think he wasn’t totally against the idea.

“I want you to tie me up, tie my hands and leave marks all over my body,” you said, your confidence returning. To be fair you didn’t think you’d ever been more confident in your life as of right now.

“Uh ok,” he said, a hint of nervousness on his voice. You moved your hand down his abs and hovered it just above his boxers, which had shimmied down his body from all the thrusting. His next sentence came out much more confidently, “Yeah ok baby let’s do it.”

You giggled and put your hands up above your head.

"Go on then, what are you waiting for?" He looked down at your bodies squished together and then back up at your hands above your head and that look on your face as you bit your lip. He went to tie your hands up, moving his hands up your arms before suddenly stopping.

"Oh, uh shit, what do I use?" he half asked, half questioned, before springing up in excitement, "My bandana, is that - uh - ok?"

You nodded in response, before adding confidently: "Let's just hope it's strong enough."

The difference in confidence in the bedroom between the two of you was more obvious now than ever, as he gingerly untied his bandana from his neck and tied it over your hands. He felt almost proud of himself as he admired the knot he had done for you.

"Tie it a little tighter, please baby," you said, pushing your hips up to meet his. He groaned at your comment and pushed his hips down to meet yours.

After doing as you asked, he kept his hand holding yours above your head as he started to kiss you and tug off the rest of your clothes with his teeth. He needed his hands to provide a little assistance with them, but once they were off, he looked up at you from between your legs.

Without any warning, a rarity for him, he flicked his tongue along your aching wet core, the sensation driving you absolutely mad as you bucked your hips up into his mouth.

You usually would run your hands through his hair when he ate you out, but the feeling of having your hands restrained made it all feel even better. You tried to pull your hands apart but the bandana kept them next to one another.

Unable to use your hands to show him good he was, you used your words. "Ugh you're so good baby," you moaned, "Keep going, just like that."

Your hips bucked up as his tongue rolled along your slit again and again until you felt yourself seeing stars. His cock was aching now, him using one of his hands to pull his boxers down and stroke himself and try and give himself a little bit of relief.

From his moans against your clit, you knew what he must be doing.

"Why don't you fuck me?" you said, his eyes lifting to meet yours from behind his hair as his gaze met with yours.

"You don't have to ask," he replied, his confidence growing as he stood up at the end of the bed, his cock already leaking some pre-come. You bit your lip at the sight as he leant down, hissing as the tip of his cock brushed your thigh, before checking the bandana was still tight.

"Ready?" he asked, as he took himself in his hand and lined himself up. Seeing you nod, he pushed himself inside you and you squealed at the pleasure, pulling on the restraints hard as you tried to reach out to touch him.

You moaned at the feeling, immediately going to try and grab at his back like you always did as he kept a strong and steady pace thrusting inside you. You could feel yourself falling apart at the sensation, needing so bad to grab his arms, his hair, anything, you just needed to touch him. You needed to feel him more.

"Untie me please," you said, almost begging as you pulled on the restraints. He kept his focus on fucking you, but his speed did slow as he tried to untie the bandana.

Luckily, it came undone quickly and he picked his speed up again. Your hands now free, you wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him onto you properly.

The switch of the angle sent your head spinning and you felt him twitch inside you. You tensed at the sensation and soon you two were both coming undone, hands gripping each other everywhere as the two of you shared a heated kiss.

As he came, he collapsed on top of you, but the weight was nice. It was almost secure. He rolled off you, his breathing still heavy as he tried to compose himself.

You were breathing hard too, the silence in the room only being cut through by the sound of both of you breathing. It was finally time for him to speak.

"Next time, can we tie me up please?" he asked, a smile spreading on his face.

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be added 🥰)

@starkeyobx @gryffindorpouge11 @jjmaybankmakesmecry @maybankforlife2 @proactivetypeofgirl @hoebx @fangirlfree @severa-kane @lovedetlost @slutforsmutsstuff (also @strokesofstokes i’m adding you because i know you love john b ;))

#obx smut #obx #john b routledge #chase stokes #john b routledge smut #john b smut #john b fanfic #john b fanfiction #john b routledge fanfiction #john b routledge x reader #john b routledge x y/n #john b x reader #obx fics

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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

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

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

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

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

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“I don’t like this.”

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

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

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

That doesn’t make him feel any better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Classified?” You finish for her.

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

The less there is to make you a target.

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

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

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

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

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

That, and the excuse for violence.

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

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

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

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

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

You look nervous.

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

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

His omega.

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

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

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

He doesn’t even want to think about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, sir.” You say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What sort of hesitations?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“That could be dangerous.” Price says.

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

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

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

He hasn’t failed her yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

One more to go.

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

This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity.

He’s going to be a problem.

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

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

“Coming, Si?”

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

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

Nothing that could dampen your natural scent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can hold power over them.

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

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

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

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

You’re beginning to see the dynamics already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

“You lived on base?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks.

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

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

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

“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks.

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

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

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

You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.”

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

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

He’s going to be a problem.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?”

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

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

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

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

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

He’s testing you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They could if they wanted to.

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

“You hungry, pup?”

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

Pup. Price called you Pup.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s proving his ability as a provider.

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

You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you.

He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks.

A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost.

Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult.

I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #a/b/o

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littlxpxtal · 22 days

Text

Cooler Than Me

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 5.2K

I got you all figured out

You need everyone's eyes just to feel seen

Behind your make up nobody knows who you even are

Who do you think that you are

August

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT?” I Shout back at my mother as she stands across the kitchen island from me, my dad right next to her. We were in the midst of the biggest argument we have ever had. They were telling me I couldn’t associate with the pogues anymore.

“Hanging with those kids is going to ruin your future! You almost got arrested this summer because of them and their shenanigans. We’ve talked to Kiara’s parents and they’re doing the same thing. You guys are bright girls - we can’t believe Ward lets Sarah runa round with those fools.” my dad responds.

I furiously pace the kitchen floor, running my hands up and down my sides.

“Those fools are my friends dad, you can’t just tell me who I can and can’t be friends with.” I say, choking on a sob forming in my throat.

“This is for your own good. You need to start getting on good terms with these kids, keep your grades up and get into a good school.” my mom says quietly, trying to calm me down.

“YEA, LIKE THEY GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME. THEY ALL HATE ME AND ALWAYS HAVE, WHY DO YOU THINK I BECAME FRIENDS WITH PEOPLE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ISLAND IN THE FIRST PLACE” I scream back, hot tears pouring down my face.

“If you don’t stop seeing them, we’re taking your car keys and cutting off your allowance.”

I scoff at this response from my father.

“Yea like those things matter. I still have a bike and I can get a job.” I retort.

“We won’t support you through college.” my mother says firmly. I stand still, tears dripping from my chin onto my shirt.

“What?” I ask meekly.

“You heard me. If you keep this up, we won’t help you with anything.” she responds. I stare at her blankly.

“You wouldn’t” I whisper.

“We’re being serious Y/N. You need to get your head on straight and stay on this side of the island.”

My mind runs a mile a minute, thinking of how difficult it would be to attend any of my dream colleges without their support. A sob escapes my mouth and I look up at them.

“You’re really threatening me right now?” I ask, holding myself with my arms, leaning on the kitchen counter for support.

“You have a future ahead of you. Those kids don’t.” my father states.

“You don’t know that!” I shout back.

“Listen, our decision is final. And you can’t try anything because we had a tracker installed on your phone.”

“You have WHAT”

I run to the living room to grab my purse and shoes, shoving them on my feet.

“Where are you going?”my mother shouts at me, moving to the living room with my dad.

“‘m going to Sarahs. You said I can’t hang with Pogue’s. She’s not a Pogue.” I respond back, sniffling.

“She might as well be one” my dad whispers under his breath. My mom walks closer to me, resting a hand on my arm. I jerk myself away from her, wiping the tears from my chin.

“She’s one of my best friends. You can’t take her away from me.” I choke out.

“We just want the best for you.” she says softly. I roll my eyes and open the front door. When I get into my car I pull out my phone to text Sarah that I was on my way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I park my car in the Tannyhill driveway, storming through the front door, tears pouring from my eyes. Rafe immediately stands up from the couch, staring at me as I kick my shoes off.

“Woah woah woah what’s goin on.” he asks, slowly walking towards me.

“Nothin, is-is Sarah home?” I choke out, pressing my hands into my face to cover it from Rafe.

“Well you’re obviously upset. What happened? JJ fuck with you again.”

“Jesus Christ Rafe, NO!” I Shout at him, breaking down into tears again.

“Look ‘m just trying to figure out what the hell is goin on with you. You storm into my house lookin a fuckin mess cryin and shit I deserve to know what’s going on. Don’t want you bringin any trouble round here.”

“Fuck you where’s Sarah.” I ask. He sighs and shouts up the stairs “SARAH”

I stand there, crying into my eyes as he stands awkwardly infront of me.

“Yea?” she asks from above the bannister.

“Oh my god Y/N whats wrong?” she asks before running down the stairs.

“My-my parents they-they” I choke on a sob, and she finally reaches the bottom of the stairs to hold me. Rafe walks away to the couch, eyes staying on me. I look up to reach Sarah’s eyes.

“They told me I can’t hand with the guys anymore. They’re too much trouble and they’ll take away everything from me if I keep hanging with them. They said they wouldn’t help me with college.”

She furrows her eyebrows and hugs me close.

“God I’m so sorry Y/N”

“It’s for your own good” Rafe pipes up from the couch. Sarah shoots him a death glare and he shurgs.

“Been tryna tell you girls they’re bad news. “ he responds before pulling out his phone. “Bout time they put their foot down.”

“God would you shut up.” I respond, staring at him from across the room. He looks up from his phone, shocked at my response.

“C’mon lets go upstairs.” Sarah holds my hand as we go up the stairs. She pulls out her phone to text our groupchat, telling everyone to meet at her house for an emergency.

“Its the last weekend of the summer, why the hell are we on Figure Eight” I hear JJ complaining to the group as the head up the stairs before entering Sarah’s room. I laid across her bed, blowing my nose into a tissue when they finally open the door.

“Oh Y/N” Kiara says softly before climbing on the bed, resting a hand on my thigh.

“Her parent’s wont let her hang with the guys anymore on the cut. They gotta tracker on her and everything.” Sarah tells the group.

“They gotta WHAT?” JJ exclaims. “That’s gotta be illegal or somethin.”

“You’re not gonna listen to em right?” Pope asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. I sniffle and look around the group, my eyes glossing over with tears.

“I don’t really have a choice.” I whisper.

October

I shift in my seat, anticipating the last bell of the day to ring.

“Please write down the assignment on the board. It’s due Monday morning.” Mrs. Thompson drones on. I mess with the hem of my skirt, and shoot straight up when the bell finally rings. Walking at a fast pace, I finally reach my locker.

“You goin to that Halloween party tonight at the Thornton house?” Sabrina asks, appearing behind my open locker door, popping a piece of gum while looking down at her phone.

“Uhhh I didn’t know there was a party.” I say, shrugging, placing my textbooks that I won’t be using for this weekends homework in, and grabbing my purse before closing the door.

“Damn girl we gotta get you added on this group snapchat story so you can get hip.” she responds before putting out her hand. I reluctantly pass her my unlocked phone as she gets on my Snapchat and adds my username.

“You gotta costume?” she asks as we walk towards the exit.

“Eh I’ll probably just reuse an old costume.” I respond, internally cringing at the old princess costumes stuffed in a box in the attic. When I hung with John B, Sarah, and the gang we made fun of the Kook Academy kids who would dress up and get disgustingly hammered in costumes causing chaos across town.

“Just make sure its tight and sexy. I’ll pick you up around 7:30 for my pregame okay?” she says before we go our seperate ways in the parking lot. I give her a weak smile before entering my car, sighing and putting in the closest clothing store in Kildare I could find on my GPS.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I decided to go as a vampire. It was easy to find a black lace corset and black mini skirt. I stopped at the local Spirit Halloween on the way home for some fake blood and figured I would just do dark black and red makeup to match.

After putting the finishing touches to my makeup, I took a sip of the mixed drink I made myself, pregaming the pregame because I was about to be with people I wasn’t really friends with the entire night.

I move all of my essential belongings to a tiny black Coach purse with silver embellishments that matched my excessive jewlery. My phone rings with a text message, and I sit by my vanity to respond.

Sarah Cameron

What’re you up to tonight?

I debate on telling her I’m going to her ex boyfriends house for a fucking Halloween party. I take a huge gulp from my drink and type a response

Some Kook Halloween party 🙄 wby?

I decide it’s best she doesn’t know I know whos party it is. She immediately repsonds

Oh is it Toppers lmao?

I sigh and begin to type before her chat bubble appears.

Think we were gonna crash that ;)

I laugh and respond

Please do I need to see some familiar faces.

I’ll text you if its confirmed we’re just scheming right now.

I like her text and receive one from Sabrina

Be there in 5.

I like her text and chug the rest of my drink, walk to my closet and debate on what shoes to wear. I decide to go with the all black theme and choose my favorite pair of tall gogo boots that make me at least 4 inches tallers. I walk slowly up the stairs in attempt to avoid my parents seeing my extremely revealing outfit, epically failing when my mom pops her head out of the kitchen as I reach the last step.

“Where are you headed?” she asks, quirking her eyebrow up and looking at me up and down.

“A Halloween party with some friends from school.” I reply, pulling my skirt down, avoiding eye contact.

“I’m glad you’re making friends. Be safe.” she responds before going back into the kitchen.

I roll my eyes. Of course shes fine with me looking like this as long as it’s kids from Figure 8. My phone buzzes and I open it.

Sabrina

Here bitch

“Bye Mom Bye Dad” I shout before exiting the house.

I jump into the passenger seat, and she reaches over to hug me. I flinch lightly, never receiving this type of intimacy from her before. I guess we were really friends now. She’s dressed as princess peach, with the tiniest dress I’ve ever seen and the iconic crown on her head.

She turns her car back on and turns her volume all the way.

“LETS GO GET FUCKED UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP” she cheers before driving off.

We reach her house and she takes me to her basement. Theres a full bar, a pong table and a large couch unoccupied.

“Whats your drink of choice?” she asks stepping behind the bar.

“Just a vodka sprite” I respond, making myself comfortable on her couch. Before shes done making my drink, a rumble of footsteps come down the stairs and a group of guys I’ve seen in passing from classes come down, crowding around Sabrina with hugs.

She pulls away from the group, handing me a red solo cup with my drink in it filled to the brim.

“Everyone this is Y/N” They all take a second to eye me up and down and I stand up, self conscious of how far my skirt rides up when I sit.

“Yea you used to hang with the pogues right?” One pipes up. Sabrina rolls her eyes and walks back behind the bar to start making drinks for the boys.

“Be nice. Shes on the right side of town now.” They let the conversation go and I inspect everyones outfits, they’re all dressed as super heroes, some with just capes, no shirts, some with their shirts propped open. I force myself to not make eye contact with any of them until one approaches me.

“So what made you come finally hang with the kooks?” he inquires, taking a sip from his cup.

“Was getting into too much trouble and I wanna get into a good school.” I respond, mimicking him and taking a sip from his drink.

“What school d’ya wanna go to?” he asks. Before I can respond another rumble of steps come down the stairs and an even larger group of people come down, a few of them dressed as the crew from scooby doo, and three girls dressed like the powerpuff girls. I smile at the way everyone embraced the theme, feeling the liquor increase my confidence.

I walk up to the bar and request another drink from Sabrina, but shes too distracted by a guy dressed as Superman is chatting her up. My phone buzzes and I look down to see a text from Sarah.

Were coming. Is everyone actually dressed up?

Yes 😵 Im a vampire lol

OMG Lemme see

I lean over the bar and interrupt Sabrina’s conversation to ask her where the bathroom is. She points around the corner and I walk over. Its unoccupied and I inspect myself in the mirror. Fixing my hair, I grab my dark red lipstick out of my purse and reapply, before pulling out my phone to snap a picture. I send it to Sarah.

Holy shit you actually committed. You look HAWT

I laugh at my phone before someone pounds on the door.

“One Sec” I respond, blotting my lips on a piece of toilet paper before opening the door.

“All yours” I mumble before heading back to the bar in hopes of actually getting another drink.

“Be my pong partner” Sabrina pleads after refilling my cup.

“Okayyyy” I respond, feeling my words already start to slur. We get behind the table and I look across the table, seeing a boy from my English class and another from my history class.

I had played beer pong before with the crew, and I was decent, but I figured these kids would beat my ass.

On the contrary, Sabrina and I whooped their ass, which led to us jumping around the table spilling our drinks all over the floor.

“SABBBB” Someone calls from the top of the stairs. A group of people walk down all dressed as Mario characters.

“You guys are so late it’s almost time to go to Tops party” she pouts, hugging the guy dressed as Mario, who I’ve picked up over the last few weeks is her controlling possessive boyfriend. I huff, finishing the last of my drink, realizing that I was now alone, my partner in crime being stolen from me as he aggressivley clung to her side as the new group of people cracked open the beers they brought in plastic bags.

I go behind the bar, figuring that Sabrina was now off duty since she was occupied and began puring myself a very heavy handed third drink.

“Hey bartender, wanna fill me up?” the same guy from the couch was leaning over the bar putting his cup out to me. I blush and adjust my skirt.

“Sure, what were you having?”

“Vodka water.” he responds. I turn and feel his eyes on me, I feel my body warm in a sensation I hadn’t felt in a while.

I hand him back his cup and he smirks before taking a sip.

“I’m Noah by the way” he says, holding a hand out.

‘I’m Y/N” I respond, shaking his hand and making my way around the bar to stand next to him.

“You’ve gotten hot since the last time you used to hang around us.” He says, winking at me.

“Yea like middle school.” I joke before taking a large sip of my drink.

He laughs and scoots a bit closer to me. “So you never told me, what college are you thinking about.”

“Mhmmm probably NC State.” I respond, looking down into my cup.

“Nah you gotta come to Duke with the rest of us.”

I roll my eyes and look across the room.

“I kinda fucked my chances with that one by not doing many extracurriculars.” I respond, finally turning to look at him. He rolls his eyes this time and smirks again.

“If you think thats why we’re all getting in then you’re wrong” he grins and clinks his cup against mine.

“‘S all about connections. Lemme know if you need a good word, my dads an alumni.” he says before walking away. I bite my bottom lip, realizing this was exactly what my parents hoped would happen. For me to network my way into these kids lives and get the connections I needed. Those bastards were right. I didn’t wanna go to Duke though, that was never a thought I’ve even had. Maybe I would consider but I didn’t need to attend a school like that to get a good degree.

My thoughts were interrupted by Sabrina standing on the coffee table infront of the couch.

“EVERYONE FINISH THEIR DRINKS IN THE NEXT 30 SECONDS ITS TIME TO GO PARTYYYY” She cheers before her boyfriend picks her up off the table, slinging her over his shoulder, slapping her ass infront of everyone. I choke on my liquid, cringing at the way everyone laughed at her.

I trail behind the group as we walk to the Thornton Mansion, bracing myself for the next level of social interaction I was about to face.

I feel my body vibrate to the bass as soon as we step foot inside the front door, the ceiling lights off, living room illuminated with LEDs across the ceiling and floor lamps that are pink and green. I’m not shocked but I immediately lose Sabrina and the group I walked in with, finding myself alone and wandering to the bar, in hopes that they had liquor.

“Whatcha want -” The tall male voice says before stopping his sentence when he finally faces me.

“Y/N” Rafe whispers, clearing his throat. He’s wearing Slytherin robes, his hair slicked back Draco style.

“Hey” I respond, regretting that I walked to this bar.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks. I feel my confidence rise at the question, refusing to let him belittle me tonight.

“It was an open invite. Why wouldn’t I be here.” I retort staring into his once again blown pupils.

“Dind’t think this was your scene.” He responds nonchalantly.

“You must not know much about me then. Can I get a vodka sprite please.”

He nods his head and turns to the back of the bar, mixing my drink into a red solo cup.

He passes it to me without another word, turning to the girl beside me. “Whatcha want pretty girl?” He asks, staring blatantly at her boobs. I roll my eyes and walk throught the backdoor to see a group group of people surrounding an inground pool. I find an unoccupied pool chair and take a seat.

My phone buzzes with a text from Sarah

We’re about to pull up

I immediately respond

Im in the back by the pool

I play on my phone until I hear my name being called across the pool, looking up to see a group of 5 people wearing masquerade masks waving at me. I jump up and run across the pavement to meet them. Jumping into Kiara’s arms first, she swings me around laughing.

“The fuck are these costumes?” I ask.

“Well it was a last minute decision and we knew if people could actually see our faces we’d be kicked out instantly.” JJ declares, pulling a beer out of his bookbag.

“Hmm good move.” I respond.

“Lets dance!” Kiara cheers, grabbing me and Sarah’s hands, leading us back inside to the group of people dancing in the dining room.

After a few songs I walk to the bar to get another drink. Before I reach the bar I feel a rough yet familiar hand grab my arm, turning me around. Rafe’s face is lowered to meet mine, a stern look upon his face.

“Why the fuck are they here” he says, gritting his teeth.

“Dunno what you’re talking about” I say, yanking my arm from his grip. He follows me to the bar, and presses his chest against my arm, reaching down to my ear.

“I can smell a Pogue a mile away. Who the fuck do you think you are inviting them?” I roll my eyes and order the same drink from the drunk dude behind the counter.

“Look, I didn’t invite any Pogues. And stop grabbing me like that.” I say, pushing his chest off of my arm and turning to head back to the dancefloor. Rafe loses me in the crowd and I notice my friends are no longer in the same place they were.

I look around frantically for their masks and see Kiara and Sarah without their masks on, getting questioned by Topper and Kelce. The boys are nowhere to be found.

“Fuck” I whisper. I see Rafe making a b-line towards their direction and I push through the crowd to reach them.

“Sarah, the fuck are you doin here?” Rafe shouts at her. She rolls her eyes, clinging to Kiara.

“Rafe leave them alone,” I speak up once I finally reach them. He ignores me and takes a step towards her.

“We just popped in to see what was going on. We’re leaving now.” Kiara responds, pulling Sarah’s arm.

I look at them with pleading eyes, not wanting to be left alone again with these people.

They sadly wave to me before exiting, Topper slamming the door behind them. Rafe turns to me with a scowl on his face. I turn around and head to the bathroom.

I pull out my phone to see a text from JJ

Sorry had to bolt on you like that Y/N. Top was looking hella pissed and we didn’t want them to take shit out on you.

That’s alright. It was nice seeing you 🙂

Sarah Cameron

Well that was a bust. Sorry we couldn’t stay longer. Really didn’t want to give Rafe a reason to rat me out to Ward

It’s alright I’m glad I got to see you!!

I sigh, clicking my phone off and exiting the bathroom, finding Rafe standing outside, leaning against the wall.

“You smoke?” he asks.

“Yea” My drunk brain makes me respond without thinking.

“Follow me”

I trail behind Rafe as he takes me to the side patio, where a group of people are sitting around a fire pit. He pulls up a chair for me and hands me a water bottle. I’m slightly confused at his niceness but decide not to question it if I am about to get free weed.

The blunt is finally passed around to me and I take a few hits before passing to Rafe.

“Do we really have to listen to this?” I ask, referring to the loud ass trap music playing from a speaker next to Topper.

Everyone goes silent and looks at me with wide eyes.

“Whos on aux?” I ask, sitting up.

“Me. Whats wrong with this music?” I laugh and open my water bottle

“Its not smoking music. Its bouta make me tweak. You gotta play something chill like Tame Impala.”

Topper looks at Rafe and he shrugs his shoulders.

I speak up again. “Play anything from their album Currents. Its my favorite to listen to while I’m crossed.” I say. At this point I’m amazed by my confidence, but then again everytime I smoke I realize how insignificant anyones opinion of me really is.

Topper plays The Less I know The Better and another blunt is lit up, circling around the group again. As the songs finishes, I realize no one has spoken a word since the song started.

Topper’s glazed eyes look over at me and he begins to giggle like a little boy.

“That was a good call” he finally says. I smile at him and sink into my seat, staring up at the stars, feeling the intoxication take over.

After what only felt like seconds, I feel an aggressive tap on my shoulder. I slowly move my eyes to follow the sensation and see Sabrina, with a crooked crown and makeup smudged under her eyes.

“Whats wrong” I slur out, trying to find the courage to pull myself up from the slouched positon I was in.

“I found Derek making out with a girl in the bathroom. Can we go?” I sober up enough to sit myself up right.

“Oh my god, Sab I’m so sorry. Yea yea lets go.” I say, grabbing my purse. I’m too busy helping Sabrina up the patio stairs to realize Rafe followed us to the front of the house. I jump when I finally see his shadow linger behind us.

“Hey uh I just wanted to let you know we’re having something at my house next weekend. I think. We’re still waiting to hear if my dads gonna be out of town or not.” I nod my head, holding onto Sabrina as she silently sobs.

“Uhh if you want I can text you an update.” I stare at him in repsonse, shocked at his forwardness.

“Um sure.” I say, pulling phone out of my purse handing it to him.

He types his number into my phone and I slip it back into my purse.

“Get home safe. Sorry about Derek, Sab. He’s a dickhead.” she loudly sobs in reponse and his eyes widen.

“Text me when you’re home yea?” he says as we start to walk away. I nod my head and lead Sabrina and I back to her house.

After Sabrina is finally done puking her guts out in the toilet I pull my phone out, remembering I told Rafe when we got home. I stop myself before pressing send. Why do I feel obligated to let him know anything about me? The crossed haze I was still lingering in decided to send a simple text just to get the feeling out of me. After taking off my makeup and changing into a T-shirt and shorts I hear my phone ding

Rafe

Everything all good over there?

I look over to see Sab is already passed out on her side of the bed. I internally debated between responding now or waiting until the morning, he wouldn’t know if we were asleep or not anyways.

All good!

I have hopes he doesn't respond so I can pretend like this isn’t fucking weird, but there’s also a small hope inside of me that he does. It’s probably best if I just go to sleep at this point.

Rafe’s POV

I watch her stumble down the driveway, clutching Sabrina’s waist, her loud sobs echoing in the darkness.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek feeling how dry my mouth is I walk to the back patio sitting down and start chugging my water.

“Y/Ns not too bad” Topper says, offering the blunt to me.

“‘M good” I mumble, sitting back and finishing off the water.

“Yea, she’s a lot nicer than you described.” Kelce chimes in, takin the blunt from Toppers hand.

“Didn’t she used to hang with your sister and those freaks from the cut?” one of the random girls sitting across from me says. I grit my teeth in response and roll my eyes.

“At first I thought she was odd since shes so quiet but maybe we just need to get to know her” another girl pipes in.

“Yea, you invite her next week?” Top asks me, quirking up his eyebrow.

“Yea, but who knows if she’ll even show.” I grumble, reaching behind me for another water.

“I hope she does she seems cool.” the same girl responds. Kelce nods in agreement. “And shes hot as fuck” he says, fist-bumping Topper. He giggles like a little girl and ashes the blunt.

“You guys are annoying.” I say before standing up. “I’m heading out.” I say, reaching out my hand to dap up Topper.

“Dude why its early?” he asks in protest. I stare daggers down at him and feel my jaw clenching.

“Got shit to do with my dad tomorrow.”

“Got it.” he says, and waves goodbye.

As I walk down the driveway I pull out my phone. There’s a few texts from random girls I ran into tonight, a few snapchats from some guys that probably wanted coke. But no text form her yet. I stuff the phone back in my pocket, heading home.

When I finally reach the front door, I see Sarah and John B sitting on the living room couch.

“Hey” she says as I take my shoes off. I probably would’ve said hello back if John wasn’t in my house, but decided to wave her off and head upstairs. I turn the shower on, but before I jump in, I check my phone again and see that there’s no new messages.

My mind starts to run wild, thinking about how soft her thighs looked in the mini skirt she was wearing. I love when she wears black, she always looks so confident in anything, but she shines best in black. She also always has her makeup done perfectly. I’ve always wondered how girls get a sharp wing. The way the fake blood dripped down her neck into the crevice of her chest made my blood run hot. I wonder what her neck tastes like. I got a whiff of her perfume, it was sweet like berries yet musky.

I finish up in the shower and dry myself off. I pull on a clean pair of boxers and climb into bed, checking my phone for the last time before I go to sleep.

Y/N

Home :)

I feel my cheeks heat up in response. What the fuck is wrong with me, why am I blushing over the freak my sister hangs out with. Why have I been waiting for this fucking text to put my mind at ease. I debate on what to type in response, wanting to play it cool, but also curious about what happened with Sabrina and Derek.

I internally cringe before pressing send, and decide it’s best I go to bed before she has time to respond.

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