#PLEASE don't look at me right now i will be taking NO questions on my state of mind

[rsventhesecondd]

headcannons, nnn !┆part two

╰ • → Featuring . Hayato Suo as your FUBU  ! ╯

☁️┆ ⤿ request by  @anon 👻 ༺  ╰ ღ WBK :  requests open  ╯🦢

HAYATO SUO as your fubu — head cannons ! •

warnings . contains nsfw , fluff , all characters used are aged up to 18 , f!reader + not proof read yet . note . some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes.  ๑❛ᴗ❛๑ authors note . this is slightly rushed since I had to do something in the midst of editing this draft , but nevertheless— please enjoy reading !

fubu!hayato , who fucks you in the most ridiculous places. Behind a random dark alleyway , inside a bathroom during a party your friend hosted , and everywhere else you could think of.

" W-Wait, what the hell Hayato! We're gonna get caugh— " He cuts you off with a kiss. "Don't worry [name-chan] , nobody really goes here. Atleast for now" Suo assures with his signature smile, a small glint forming in his eye.

fubu!hayato , who knows your body more than you do. He knows which buttons to press , that spot that makes your head turn back from the pleasure, how you act when you're close, – eyes rolling back. He's fully confident that he's probably ruined your future experiences— well if you'll have one other than him.

"What about here? How does it feel?" He questions grazing a a specific spot, causing you to turn your head back– a moan in response. "Do tell me, pretty girl. Remember, close mouths don't get fed" He added, curling up his fingers in the process.

fubu!hayato , who's such a sadist, getting turned on by your humiliation, begging him to fuck you raw— your whimpers when he angles his hips to reach that spot, or when you call out his first name. You're just too adorable for him, how could he refrain from teasing such cute girl like you?

"The ropes aren't too tight, is it [name-chan]?" He asks in a slightly worried tone. He wouldn't want to hurt his precious doll too much. " No-no.. , " You said, quickly shaking your head. —" hurry up. hurry up. " "Oh? Aren't you a needy one." He teased, gliding his fingers from your clit to your entrance. "Look [name-chan] , I've barely touched you, and you're already so wet." He says with the same tone, slightly laced with an amused one.

fubu!hayato , whos has such a pretty cock— slightly above average ( or not ) , 7 inches long , 7.62 inches when hard. 3.47 inches wide, trimmed , circumcised , curved lightly to the left– and he uses that as an advantage to hit all the right spots. His pretty flushed tip is #EOA6b9 pink, shaft is a creamy #E4D5B4 beige. 2 distinct veins with the longest ranging from the base to the tip on the middle right side, he's sensitive the most there. Excretion is macaroon cream, and when he does, he lets out a soft groan.

" Have you ever thought about how you have such a pretty cock? " You said, tracing around his veins as he shivers, his lips tugging into a grin. "How.. bold of you [name-chan] , " He mutters out out with a groan; amused by your words, almost.. flustered? "I've never really thought about it.. like.. that"

fubu!hayato , who isn't really much of a head pusher or throat fucker, letting you do as you please. And when your tongue glides over his sensitive tip to his veins, he simply just pushes his head back. He really isn't a type of person to curse out so openly, even under a lot of pleasure; but when he gets too stimulated, he let out a sound that is in between a groan and whimper, caressing your hair ever-so slightly.

"Mm— you're doing so good, [name-chan]" He says, letting out a breathy exhale as you kitty lick his tip.

He's so sensitive, but it takes more than just a few minutes to make him cum.

fubu!hayato , who just loves tasting you all over— trailing kisses everywhere. Your neck, shoulder, spinal cord, from your abdomen to your inner thighs, whilst leaving a few marks in the process, letting out a loud pop as he takes his lips off your bruised skin — he just can't get enough of you!

"Ah, I can't seem to get enough of you, [name-chan] , " He says, placing your index and pointing finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. "You're just.. too addictive; even for me" He says against your ears, licking your earlobe.

fubu!hayato , who always leaves fights unscathed. He seems to be the type of person who dislikes being scathed, but when it comes to you leaving both love and bite marks all around his skin, fingernails scratching his back as he rams in your pent up hole— he isn't complaining. Instead, he encourages you to make more.

"Remember to breath. If it ever gets too stimulating, just bite down as hard as you can." He whispers in your ear, shoulders close to your mouth. "W-Wouldn't it leave marks? I thought you didn't like being scathed–" You said, breathless. "Hm, I don't. But when it comes to you, I'd rather you add more." He retorted. If someone does indeed see him without his Quipao, those subtle scratches all over his back— bruised neck and shoulders.. then, he'll just make up some sort of excuse.

sincerely, raven ! — requested by anon 👻 ╯

[chariaki]

Marriage?

Kento x reader

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

"Darling, why does this alien keep following me?"

"Huh? Ohh!!...Kento, sweetheart... that's called a creeper. It's following you 'cause it wants to explode near you and kill you."

You recently taught you're boyfriend, Kento Nanami, how to play minecraft...and surprisingly, he's doing wonderful. In a span of 3 days, he created a garden, a pool and a bakery in creative mode. And yesterday, he's tried survival mode for the first time.

"Well, that's not very polite. I even shared my meat with him..."

"You did?"

"Yes..."

"Pfff-"

"Did I say something funny, love?"

It's day 2 of your sweet boyfriend trying to maneuver his way in survival mode. He's doing terrific, hasn't died yet! He managed to build up on his food and inventory. And you told him countless times to build atleast a tiny house in order to protect him at night, but he keeps saying that he'll do it later because he has to prepare a looootttt.

"Kento, baby... creepers aren't interested in meat or making friends. They're simply there to explode and kill those around them"

"Oh. Well, then I guess I should run away from him."

"Yup, you definitely should."

He wouldn't even let you peak at his device! He'd be playing in the corner, like a weird teenager.

"How ya holding up? Can I please see what you're doing, baby?" You emphasize the word "please", hoping that Nanami would give in. But, he wouldn't even look at your puppy eyes!!

"No, sweetheart. I told you I'll show you when I'm done."

"Tsk. What are you even planning?" You pout, bouncing your legs on his lap, foot poking at his side.

He grabs your foot and places it on his lap again. He's playing minecraft on one hand, while the other massages your feet! What a man, indeed.

"It's a secret" He says in a singong tone, leaning over to grab the remote on the coffee table and peck your lips.

"Here, baby. Why don't you distract your pretty eyes with some television entertainment, and I'll get back to you with my finished work. Sound good, hmm? "

"okay... "

How were supposed to counter that when he kissed you so lovingly and whispered to you so softly?

A few hours had gone by. A variety show piqued your interest , however, you were more enamoured by the way you're boyfriend was so focused on his device. You could see the determination in his eyes.

He would also ask you random questions like "would you prefer wooden or tiled floors?" or "what colors would you like to see in a place?" And you would always answer quickly because you've been anticipating him, and the way he would hum in thought, then kiss you as a "thank you. "

You guessed he was finally building a himself a house.

But you were wrong.

He was building you and him a home.

He proudly and nervously handed you his phone, telling you to explore his carefully crafted house.

"I'm finished, love. Take a look at our house. I built it for us. This and so much more will be our life when we get married."

You were quite impressed, considering he built it in survival mode and for his first time doing so.

"Our house? Married? Marriage?"

It's an understatement to say that you were "flustered". You were red, stuttery, fidgety and baffled.

You did not expect him to bring that up. You've only been dating for a year. But don't get it wrong, you truly love Nanami, it's just that you didn't expect him to feel so strongly towards you to already consider marriage after only a year of dating!?

He chuckled. His deep, beautiful voice that reverberated through your heart.

"Yes, yn. Marriage. I-I'm not proposing to you right now! I'm just reminding you how much I love you, and that I'm more than ready to spend my lifetime with you."

He holds caresses your hands, eyes maintaining gentle, loving contact.

"I love you, Kento. Thank you, darling."

He leans in closer to kiss you. But you interrupt him midway. You whisper.

"Soooo, when are you going to propose?"

"Soon. In a beautiful place I know you'll like, with delicious food, a calming ambience, and just the two of there to experience it. "

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Kento Nanami, you're boyfriend of one year, builds you a house in minecraft to profess his love for you and confess that he's ready to upgrade to husband mode.

[dobadoo]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ WANDERER ꒱ ˎˊ˗ my sweet, tender girl..

wanderer/fem!reader

warnings ★ — NSFW. cuniculingus, fingering, gentle sex, just fluff at the end

a/n ★ — my dears, sorry in advance for my English, I wrote everything in my native language and translated. (I think it turned out too dirty..)

1.209 words (POSSIBLE NON-CANON)

Expressing his feelings and love in words, except for calling you cute poetic nicknames, he… Doesn't really know how. Or at all. But he can take you to a "puspa" cafe or watch the sunset in the evening, but he can't express it in words. He sees your glowing eyes when you look at him. He sees how happy you are because of his presence next to him. He honestly doesn't fully understand this, but secretly he is glad that he can make you happy.

He doesn't like to remember his dark past. He knows that he managed to do something wrong, but he just doesn't want to involve you in it and doesn't understand how such a beautiful creature like you could love someone like him.

His caustic phrases can hurt you, and sometimes it gets to the point that you just leave home for an indefinite period. You know, or just hope, that he is looking for you and wants to apologize. In his indigo, cold, detached eyes, you can now read sympathy for what he said, but for some reason he does not always say it. You know his past, albeit briefly, and you understand that it is difficult for him to open up to people. You see how he tries, and you appreciate this effort. You yourself try to help him, telling him what to say in what situations.

Over time, you see the fruit of your efforts. If the Wanderer runs into someone on the street, then it is not particularly difficult for him to talk to the person. It happens that he cannot keep track of his language, and thereby offends the person.

And so, you are standing in the night forest of Avidya (if I wrote it wrong, please tell me) you are sitting on a shabby log, while the Wanderer, with crossed arms, stands in front of you, drilling you with a heavy, piercing gaze of his indigo eyes.. And then he takes off his hat, putting it on the grass and comes closer. You look up at him and already understand.. When he behaves like this, it's a bad sign.

"I'll ask a question, and you have to answer me. And don't you dare lie, I'll understand it right away, you know."

The Wanderer looks at you, putting one gloved hand on his side.

"Pfft.. What kind of question is that?"

You answer, look at him, and probably for the first time you see such pain in his eyes. You hesitantly stood up and put your hand on his shoulder, trying to make him understand that you are nearby and he has nothing to fear. He looks coldly at your hand and reaches out to squeeze it and then.. Remove it from his shoulder with a detached look.

"Name the reason why you "fell in love" with me so much?"

The question made your mind fly out. A slight stupor for a few seconds. The puppet does not take his eyes off your agitated face and watches every change in your behavior, thereby driving you into a stupor even more. You understand that if you remain silent for at least a few more seconds, the Wanderer will draw his own conclusion.

"I don’t need any reasons to love you. If you are afraid because of your past, then you shouldn’t. You are not that person anymore. I know how you reproach yourself inside, but believe me, you shouldn’t."

"I… understand"

The Wanderer's eyes widened slightly before they became calm again. He honestly didn't expect such an answer. He can't perceive himself as an adequate and calm person. As a completely ordinary resident of Sumeru. You are the only one who believes in him. You are the only one who didn't turn away, but on the contrary came to help. You became his light in his impenetrable darkness, which illuminates the way. Your smile warms his empty soul. Gentle touches make him experience strange… but pleasant sensations in the place where the heart should be.

He decided for himself that he will become your support. He will become your protector and will not allow you to go on these errands again, from which you return with new wounds. Seeing blood on your body, like an arrow in the soul, shakes him every time he hears your cough, reminding him of the last person who "betrayed" him.. He does not stand aside. He also goes on missions with you and protects you. Sitting in the evening near some pond, he looks at you, and a smile appears on his face. He sees how tired, sweaty and dirty you are, going into this pond and splashing around there like a little child, calling the Wanderer to you. With his wind, he helps your hair dry, and at this time you weave a wreath, which soon ends up on his head.

He honestly still does not fully understand the reason for such love for himself on your part, but he is madly happy that you are near.

18+

He does not particularly need intimacy, but when he sees you, so vulnerable, lying under him, with such tear-stained eyes from passion and desire… What are you doing to him, girl?

"I see how much you want. Why don't you ask?"

his indigo eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he leaves soft kisses on your tense groin. His doll lips were so cold on your soft, hot skin… you got goosebumps. But you didn't care, because your warmth, coming straight from your tender, loving heart, could surely warm you both.

"Mhm.. please don't tease me like that.."

You touched his dark indigo soft hair, lightly ran your fingers through his locks and pulled the fabric of his white cloak, hiding his beautiful body under a transparent black sleeveless turtleneck that fit his slender body so perfectly. And then you suddenly thought that such beauty would really ruin you one day.

"Oh my sweet, tender girl.."

The Wanderer whispered contentedly, and with a hint of teasing. As your passion grew, the Wanderer felt the last remnants of his cynical facade crumble. sweet words and your gentle caresses awakened feelings in him that he had long buried - longing, devotion, the uncertain movements of a heart slowly thawing after centuries of icy isolation.

"Are you cold, my Persephone?"

He asked tenderly, covering the inside of your thigh with cold kisses, you shook your head. You threw your head back, pressing yourself against the mossy side of the tree, where you had previously had a casual conversation.

The puppet avoided your most sensitive places, the gentle touch of his lips on your untouched skin sent electrical impulses running along your spine. You trembled, your breath hitched, as waves of new sensations rolled over you.

Encouraged by your reaction, the Wanderer's kisses became bolder, his indigo gaze staring at you with a glint of gentle mischief. The cold of his touch contrasted teasingly with the heat of your arousal, igniting the fire of your desire to new heights.

"Mhm.."

You jerked forward sharply as his gloved hands spread my legs in such a depraved manner.. You raised yourself up on your elbows, looking into his indigo eyes with a little excitement

"Sh-sh-shh.."

The Wanderer, sensing your excitement, climbed on top of you, gave you passionate kisses on the lips, you responded willingly, all fears dissipated, only desire, love and lust remained. The Wanderer covered your fragile neck with kisses and light bites, claiming your body for himself. The puppet began to worship your most intimate flesh, the Wanderer admired the exquisite tenderness of your form. Each thin fold, each responsive movement was evidence of the wondrous diversity of creation.

"That's it, now lie still, sunshine."

Riven by the desire to bring you to the heights of ecstasy, he paid attention to your sensitive clitoris, causing a stream of pleasure in you. With reverent intensity, the Wanderer's gaze remained riveted to your flushed, wet folds. Coming ever closer, he pressed gentle, teasing kisses to the swollen lips of your vulva, the Wanderer licked and sucked, listening to your melodic girlish moans.

Suddenly you were grabbed by the hips and pulled closer. You gasped in surprise, his tongue moved and circled over your clitoris, and at the same time you felt something wet pressing against you from below. You swallowed your saliva and moaned pitifully, taking two fingers inside you first. The Wanderer was amused by your reaction. He let out a light laugh, continuing to caress and please you with his tongue, painfully slowly moving his fingers.

"Don't hold back, show me what other sounds you can make from my actions. Let me go faster," - the movement of the fingers accelerated, and the Wanderer was content with the vulgar squelching sounds from below, scratches on the back and frank female moans. - "Do you like it like this? my little minx?"

You wanted to answer something caustic, but the fast pace of his puppet-like, long, thin fingers knocked you off your feet, you threw your head back, holding onto the blanket. You clenched your hands into fists, moaning quite loudly when his mouth stopped caressing you below, the Wanderer sat up, looking at you with clouded indigo eyes, he leaned on you, settling between your legs.

"Do you want me to caress you here?" - a soft whisper and an almost chaste kiss on the bridge of your nose, while his beautiful fingers rub your walls, moving faster and faster.

"just like that?(your name)?"

"Yes", - your answer is drowned in a groan, drawn out, ending in a desperate whine. And someone else's grin reaches your ears.

His fingers spread inside you like scissors, and your back bends as he bends them a little, stretching the still tight walls, his free hand falls on your miniature breast, and lightly pinches your nipple, forcing you to stay in place, urging you not to move.

A whimper escaped your lips again as the puppet's other hand began to gently rub and make circular motions on your sensitive bud. He moved down slightly to make it easier to work with you with both hands. You closed your eyes and moaned, slowly moving towards him. The Wanderer licked his lip and moved inside you at an unimaginable speed. This was enough to bring you to the abyss of orgasm.

"close.."

while you were lost in your own orgasm, you heard the Wanderer muffled moaning, even screaming, shuddering over your naked body and involuntarily scratching your reddened sides. The wanderer held onto the lower part of your body so tightly that red marks and traces remained on you, including your legs.

He carefully laid your trembling body on a mossy tree branch, and the Wanderer himself, slowly pulled out his fingers and lay down on your chest, right where the heart is, which, by the way, is beating very fast. He heard this sound for the first time, before that he could only fantasize about how a human heart beats, so he was in no hurry to get up or disturb this rare idyll for both of you.

"You so loud, it's ringing in my ears..I wonder if next time I can make you moan louder..mm?."

Puppet raised his head and slyly looked into your eyes. You understood perfectly well that you were all disheveled, red, and the puppet felt great and after a while was ready for the second round.

"And now let me lie down for a bit. Your heart is about to give away all your secrets, beauty.."

The Wanderer lightly flicked you on the nose, then laying down on your chest.

[muwapsturniolo]

𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒆 💫 Nick sturniolo (m! reader)

"i-i made a mistake, please, please just..."

✘ angst, i can't lie i had trouble writing this so I'm sorry that it isn't that good😭 i promise i will do nick justice next time, angst isn't my strongest genre.

It's dark in the bedroom, the only light being the moonbeams cascading down and illuminating a figure sitting on the edge of the bed.

He couldn't sleep, his mind toying with him and replaying his happiest moments that he took for granted and ruined - He felt guilty.

A soft shuffling is heard, his whole body tensing and his throat constricting. He slowly turns his head, his eyes landing on his sleeping wife.

She was a beautiful girl, she had a good heart and tended to forgive people too easily....and yet he found himself hating her

He knew it was wrong, the girl never did anything to harm him or make his life a living hell - He did that all on his own.

He was the reason he hates his life, not the woman he calls his wife.

He clenches his fists and faces forward, his eyes beginning to burn from the salty tears forming. He closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath, his hands coming to his face as he rests his elbows on his knees.

"God, what is wrong with me..." He questions himself softly, the tears now running down his face.

He knew if anyone saw him they would think he was pathetic.

What kind of man sits on the edge of his bed in the middle of the night, head in hands as he cries next to his wife, all because he wishes he was with a boy?

A silent sob escapes his mouth as he recalls all the memories with him.

The day they met, the first time they hung out, the first time they got drunk, their first kiss, the endless nights of fooling around - He missed it, he craved it.

He couldn't believe he gave that all up to be nothing more than a husband in a picture-perfect American family.

He could hear Nick's voice as he replayed that day in his head.

"You can go and kiss 100 fucking girls Y/n, you can drink all you want and try to forget the feelings you have for me, but that doesn't erase the fact that you're gay!"

"I'm not gay Nick! I don't have feelings for you! This was a mistake o-A mistake? A mistake is spilling your coffee on your shirt when you're in a rush, not telling me you only want me to call you baby as your dick is shoved down my throat!"

The two males stare at each other, their breathing harsh as they try to come to terms with the end of their beginning.

Y/n sighs and allows his body to relax, "Nick...I'm sorry, ok? I-I...I'm sorry."

"Yeah well when you wake up regretting this choice, just know I told you so."

I told you so...

He was right.

He regrets everything.

His gold band glimmers softly in the moonlight, a reminder that he’s bound to a marriage that he doesn't even want.

He couldn't take it anymore

Without a second thought, he rips the band off, setting it on the nightstand and jumping up. He’s quick to change out of his pajamas, stumbling out of the house as he makes his way to the car.

His heart thumps loudly in his ears, his breathing erratic as he swings out of the driveway, heading towards his destination.

It wasn't long before he arrived at the infamous bar "Pink Cadillac." It was mainly known for being an LGBT+ bar, a place where people of different genders and sexualities could be with their own, and feel safe.

He hadn't stepped foot in this bar since that night, attempting to erase all the memories and a part of himself.

he sits in the car with sweaty palms, staring up at the neon sign as he debates going in.

he knew it was too late to back out, he already left her and his ring at home - He didn't have a choice anymore.

He climbs out of the car and slowly makes his way inside, the interior of the bar starting to look and feel familiar. He finds himself smiling as he sees pictures plastered on the wall from 7 years ago, recognizing the faces of his old acquaintances. He stops when he comes across a picture of him and Nick, the two of them smiling as they were crowned the kings of the "Pink Cadillac Prom".

He remembers that night as if it was yesterday, but he doesn't have enough time to dive into his memories due to someone approaching him.

"Look at what the cat dragged in! Long time no see Y/n"

He turns around and smiles softly seeing the familiar face of Damon. he was dressed up, makeup covering his face and his neon green wig laid to perfection.

"Damon...hey," Damon gives him a quick up and down before crossing his arms. "Didn't think I would see your face here ever again after that night..."

The smile on Y/n's face falters, his eyes now cast downward as he feels an ache in his chest. Damon sighs and drops his arms, pulling Y/n towards the bar.

"Whiskey coke?"

Y/n chuckles dryly, nodding his head as he sits at the bar. Damon whips up the drink before sliding it over to the male, Y/n taking a long sip before sighing. The two sit and talk, catching up on the years of missed events and laughing with each other over old memories.

It wasn't long before Damon finally questioned him, "What are you doing here Y/n?"

"I...I need to see Nick..."

Damon sighs and places his hands on the bar, "Y/n I don't think that's a good idea.... It was 7 years ago, you need to forget it, you're married!" Y/n shakes his head, refusing to give up.

"I-I'm not married anymore."

A lie.

A big fat lie.

He was still married to her, but he planned to get a divorce after tonight.

"I-Is Nick here?"

Damon stares at him for a moment before nodding, "he is, but Y/n I don't think you sh-Where is he?" Y/n cuts him off, eager to see his long-lost lover. He notices the tense look on Damon's face and finds himself begging.

"Damon, please... I messed up, I-I need to apologize and tell him I'm sorry.”

“He’s on the patio…”

Y/n has never moved so fast in his life, maneuvering through the bodies of dancing couples and heading straight towards the patio exit.

He makes it outside, his eyes darting around before they land on him,

Nick.

It was like a scene out of a movie, the fluorescent lights shining on Nick's face as he laughed loudly with his friends, unaware of the person walking up to him and prepared to spill their heart out.

"so I told hi-Nick?"

The shorter boy whips around at the familiar voice, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?"

he goes to answer but stops seeing Nick's friends looking at him, "Can we talk...In privet?"

Nick scoffs and sets his drink down, "No, I don't want to talk to yo-Nick please...?" Nick stares at him for a moment before sighing and standing up from the table. He walks off, motioning for Y/n to follow.

The two boys stand off to the side of the patio, hidden from the curious eyes and in their own world.

"Speak, what did you want to talk about?"

Nick's dismissive tone was expected, Y/n had hurt him. However, Y/n couldn't help but be hurt himself.

"I... I miss you."

Nick chuckles and shakes his head, " Nick please! Just hear me out! I'm sorry ok? I fucked up, I fucked up big time, I know that. I-I hurt you and I'm so so sorry."

Nick can see how distraught the man is, the bags under his eyes evident and the tone of his voice proving such, but Nick doesn't feel bad at all.

He felt smug.

He knew Y/n would come crawling back, claiming he was sorry and crying because he knew he was lying to everyone and himself when he claimed he was straight and getting married to a girl.

"I hate to say it, but I told you so," Nick states, his arms crossed right across his chest. Y/n couldn't even be mad at the words thrown in his face, he knew Nick was right.

"I-I know. You were right, you are right. I-I was struggling Nick, I-I'm-" He struggles to find the right words to express his feelings and thoughts.

"I'm sorry...What we had wasn't a mistake. I did - No I do, have feelings for you. I was just scared Nick, it was one thing to be gay in private with our friends here, but it was another for me to be gay in public, and I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry for being a coward and lying to you and myself-" Y/n moves closer toward Nick, slowly trapping him between his chest and the pink-painted bricks of the club.

"-B-but I can handle it now, I-I want to try again...I want to try us again." Nick begins to look uncomfortable, the words and closeness of Y/n being too much. Nick gently pushes him away, his mouth dry as he tries to speak.

"Y/n...."

The taller male could already feel the tears forming in his eyes, he knew by the way Nick pushed him back and said his name that he was being turned down. He shakes his head, pleading softly with Nick as he holds his arms tightly.

"Nick please"

"Y/n let go..."

"Please just give me a chance!"

"Let go!"

"I-I made a mistake, I just-"

"I'M ENGAGED !"

Silence stands between the two, Nick looking away awkwardly as Y/n feels the bile rise in his throat. He's lying, he has to be lying. There's no way he was engaged...Right?

"W-what?"

Nick holds up his hand, "I'm engaged Y/n.... "

he looks at the shiny diamond ring, the ring reminding him of the one currently on his nightstand.

"D-don't say that...D-don't marry him, please!"

Now Nick was angry.

How dare Y/n show up and expect him to forgive him right away and live happily ever after. How dare he demand that he not go through with the marriage.

"That's rich coming from you! You're a fucking hypocrite Y/n, you left me to get married to a girl! A girl! Now you're telling me not to get married to the person who helped put me back together after you broke me?! Fuck you!"

"I'm not married to he- I don't fucking care Y/n!" Nick shouts. He sighs and removes his glasses, rubbing over his face in annoyance.

"Look... I'm happy now Y/n, I actually love myself now to not keep up with your bullshit. You coming here was a mistake....Go home."

Y/n swallows harshly as Nick's words hit him harshly.

He was right once again, this was a mistake.

"I-I...should go...Sorry for bothering you...'' He whispers softly, slowly backing up before turning around and starting to walk away. Nick's voice calling out for him makes him stop, hope filling in his chest.

"I'm glad you finally stopped lying to yourself...I hope you find the love you deserve...Good luck, babe."

Y/n smiles faintly despite feeling like shit. With a heavy heart, he leaves the bar, his whole body feeling numb as he drives back home.

He silently walks through the door and throws his keys back in the bowl, dragging his feet against the carpet as he enters the bedroom.

She's still sleeping.

He strips himself of his clothes and slides the gold band back on his finger. As he climbs into the bed, she awakens, her eyes fluttering open softly.

"Babe? Where did you go?" She questions.

"Needed some water...Sorry for waking you." He lies effortlessly. She hums and curls into his body, missing the grimace on his face due to the darkness of the bedroom.

"I love you," she mutters as she begins to go back to sleep.

"Yeah...Love you too...."

Another lie.

[cultistic-ann-aka-sannaliel]

Hello, saw your post on sheeps and was wondering a few things. Do you do commissions? Do you have any huge tips or anything for drawing sheep? I've been trying to do it but can never get it right. I saw you were taking requests for Cotl characters but one of my friends has a sheep oc that isn't cotl and i was wondering if you'd do that or just cotl.

well hello!

sorry for the late reply and get ready, there will be a lot of chatter here… REALLY A LOT

1) Not yet, I don't have an adequate price list for this

2) Okay, here's what I learned: sheep always have horns that curl behind their ears (the exception is "Jacob sheep," which have four horns, one that curls behind their ears and one that goes up);

sheep have a noticeably divided upper lip, and long, drooping tails;

Sheep come in a variety of colors, depending on their breed. The most prominent colors I've seen are black, white, and several shades of brown. Their eyes are usually amber or brown (dark brown eyes can be mistaken for black), but they can sometimes be gray-green or gray-blue.

I draw the legs for the sheep in two ways, but both are made up of 4 separate parts

in the first the fourth part is the hoof; the first three parts are evenly divided in half for convenience:

I use this method to draw more stylized (or cartoonish) characters that are more removed from reality in terms of anatomy and are builded on the author's style.

For example, here is a quick sketch with a stylized lamb design that relies on the author's style and convenience. Anthea belongs to @the-artist-grimm (Sorry for the ping, it is important for me to indicate the author)

the second type is more anatomical in relation to reality, but still relies on human anatomy and style:

Each part is a kind of hinge and is responsible for movement. The previous one has one too, but since the second one looks a bit more complicated, I'll try to explain it

this sketch I have marked with circles the places that are responsible for movement

here it's more clear, to be honest it's like an app with a mannequin, where you can make virtual pose (although I haven't done that for a long time)

I mainly use human anatomy with a bit of sheep anatomy because I don't feel comfortable with completely animal anatomy (in percentage terms, human are 60%, animal are 40%. This doesn't only apply to sheep, I've extended this to several other four-legged animals)

I'm still figuring out about the sheep's muzzle myself. I mostly use a circle or rectangle to represent the head. For more cartoonish or feminine characters, a circle is perfect, and if the opposite is true, a rectangle

but again, it depends on comfort and style

for the nose bridge I use a diamond shape, its adds some debt

My style of drawing sheep wool is "airy", you could say I draw in semicircles. I also sometimes add some curls lines to give it more effect

That's all for now, since the question didn't specify what kind of difficulties you're having in drawing sheep, I told you a little bit of everything! well almost..

if you still don't understand something, you can contact me, just please tell me what exactly the difficulty is and I will tell you in more detail about it and how you could deal with it

You can write to the mailbox or to me personally

3) well… yes I can, but in this case it's better to send this request to my other blog: @sannaliel

Thank you for your question, I really hope I could help you!

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3327

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @lov3rla03 @simpin4pixels

2.

YASMINE Today was the day for the WWE draft. Honestly, I was fucking scared because I was more worried about Carmelo being on the same brand as me and all the drama that has been spiraling between him and me which the only people that knew were Trinity, Montez, Bianca, and Jonathan knew about.

Both Montez and Jonathan had blown my phone up, telling me that I should've listened to them. Then I wouldn't end up in this situation, but they will protect me if shit goes down.

I was in the catering area sitting down at the table eating my lunch while listening to some music so I wouldn't be in my head about all of this.

As I was doing that, I felt someone touch my shoulder, which made me jump. I turned around and saw Trick standing behind me, chuckling.

"Shit! Trick, you can't be doing that nigga" I said.

"My fault minks didn't mean to scare yo' ass." He said, chucking at me as I threw up the middle finger at him.

He sat down next to me at the table, munching away on his food as I continued doing the same thing. I haven't told him what Carmelo did. I don't think it would matter since Jonathan and Montez were already on that with him. There wouldn't be any point in Trick getting involved.

I was on my phone when I saw that Trinity sent me a text message probably about the draft that's happening tonight, which, like I said, I am shitting rocks right now.

IMESSAGE 💬 Trin🤭🫶🏽: Hey Babygirl! How are you holding up? Minnie🧃: I'm alright just eating right now with Trick ass 🙄 Trin🤭🫶🏽: PLEASE leave that man alone 😭😭 but are you nervous about the draft? Minnie🧃: yesss I am Trin like I pray that Carmelo doesn't get drafted on smackdown ion want no shit started between him and Montez Trin🤭🫶🏽: well ion' know about that Yasmine it might happen. Minnie🧃: STOP DONT SAY THAT BITCH! 🥲🥲 Trin🤭🫶🏽: what? I'm just saying Yasmine; just don't get your hopes up Minnie🧃: fineeee bro fineeee fuck man why does it have to be this way? 😟 Trin🤭🫶🏽: Yasmine it's going to get better I promise just focus on the draft tonight ight? Minnie🧃: ight then Trin Trin🤭🫶🏽: okay I hope I'll see you in smackdown byeee Minnie🧃: byeee

After texting Trinity, I saw Trick all over my phone, so I turned my phone off and gave him a stern look.

"Damn, nigga you all up in my conversation dawg." I said.

"What happened between you and Melo?" He questioned me.

'Shit, why did he have to be so fucking nosey all up in my damn phone? Now I gotta spill the tea.'

Rolling my eyes in the process, I avoided the question while getting up from the table, along with my plate, and walking towards the trash can to throw it away.

I felt his presence behind me as I continued walking away from him, trying to avoid him asking me this question like I wanted to answer it. I didn't want anyone else involved in this situation, especially not Trick.

I continued to fasten my pace, feeling Trick grab me by the arm as we looked at each other.

"Minks, c'mon, mane. You can't just leave me in the dark. What happened?" I could read his facial expressions; he seemed concerned. I sighed in defeat while yanking my arm away from him.

"He put his hands on me, Trick, okay? He fucking put his hands on me, your own best friend." I said, folding my arms over my chest.

His face went into complete shock. Hearing that from me, it almost seemed like he didn't believe me. I just sighed before walking away from him as he stopped me in my tracks. "Look, imma talk to him to see." I turned my head, looking at him in disbelief, like, is this nigga fucking serious?

"What's the point of talking to him for when I literally just told yo' ass—you know, fine, go ahead. If you're going to believe him, then that's my problem." I walked away from him and went towards my locker room, trying to calm myself down from crying at work.

I just needed to be alone for a minute to get myself together before this damn draft for tonight.

✧˚° I was heading towards the ring, finding my seat since the draft was about to begin. As I saw Carmelo and Trick talking to each other, I just rolled my eyes at them, sitting down in my seat and looking up at the screen.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my social media as my legs were crossed, seeing what everyone was posting on their stories and whatnot until I felt a presence that didn't need to be felt. When I looked up, I saw Carmelo gazing down at me with his arms folded.

"What? Melo?"

"So you just telling everyone I put my hands on you?" Carmelo said.

I scoffed his disbelief. I knew Trick wasn't going to believe me in the first place; I don't have time for the shit.

"Nigga you did put your fucking hands on me; why would I lie about that?" I said sternly.

"Because you're lying; all I did was choke you just to put you in your place." Oh, nah, this nigga had me fucked up now.

I stood up, pushing him in the process. I couldn't believe this fuck nigga bro sitting up there playing the fucking victim.

"You what? I don't have time for this shit with yo' ass Melo, so please get the fuck on." I sat back down in my chair, getting on my phone, watching him standing there with his hands on his hips.

I heard his footsteps walking away to his seat he was sitting next to Trick my eyes directly looked at Trick who made eye contact with me I gave him the middle finger while muttering "fuck you" in the process as the draft was about to start.

✧˚° "From the NXT roster smackdown chooses..Yasmine!!!"

When I heard my name, I couldn't help but smile. I saw everyone cheering for me, and Lash hugged me while I walked past them, seeing Shawn Michael's with a smackdown blue cap.

He hugged me, whispering in my ear how proud he was and that I hope I'll do big things on the blue brand. I gave him a faint smile, as my anxiety was creeping up on me, and I was worried that Carmelo might get drafted, too.

After I sat back down in my chair, feeling very anxious, I decided I didn't want him on the same brand as me because it would only make matters worse.

"Yasmine girl, you're with the big dawgs now." Lash said.

"Yeah, I know it's crazy," I said while looking at Carmelo, who was staring down at me.

We avoided eye contact with him as we continued to listen and watch the big screen to see who else was getting drafted.

I felt my phone buzz, and when I saw a text from Bianca, I pulled it out and texted her back.

IMESSAGE 💬 Breezy🫶🏽: omgggg girl are you with us fr? Minnie🧃: Yes ma'am I am officially drafted on blue brand 🤭🤭 Breezy🫶🏽: OMGGG YESSS I AM SO EXCITED I KNOW TRIN FINNA GO CRAZY Minnie🧃: Righht but I'm worried B Breezy🫶🏽: why? Is this about Melo ass bc if he does get drafted which I hope he doesn't he better watch his back Minnie🧃: speaking of him; him and trick talked about it and I knew I've shouldn't have told him but he kept pressing me Breezy🫶🏽: so what I am hearing is that he didn't believe you? 🙄🙄 Minnie🧃: yeah, basically and then Melo gonna come up to me saying that he only did it to put me in my place like what? Breezy🫶🏽: awh hell nah bro he's playing the victim card rn Minnie🧃: fasho he is I was finna whoop his ass I front of everyone Breezy🫶🏽: hollon I think they're announcing the next person to get drafted

"From the NXT roster smackdown chooses...Carmelo Hayes!!"

My face fell as I heard his name shouted out. I saw him stroll by us, flashing me a smile as my nervousness began to rise. As I went out, I informed Lash I was going to the toilet and then to my locker room.

I slammed the door closed behind me, locking it. As I sat on the couch, trying to calm myself down, it seemed as if my entire universe had been ripped apart by that.

Why did it have to be him? Out of all the humans, who selected his ass? I looked up at the TV and noticed his confident smirk with the blue brand cap on as he dapped up Trick.  I fucking hate Trick now, but it was my fault for telling him when I knew he wasn't going to trust me. I mean, I can't blame him; that's his boy.

Breezy🫶🏽: Yasmine? Are you okay? Breezy🫶🏽: Text me back please so I can that you're okay?

I couldn't understand what she was messaging me since my anxiousness was hammering my ass right now.

Minnie🧃: B, it feels like my whole world his coming down Breezy🫶🏽: Yasmine take long deep breaths do I need to send Montez? Minnie🧃:NO! don't okay? He's already worried about me enough Breezy🫶🏽: I understand but that's yo' brother he would do anything for you Yasmine Minnie🧃: I know I know B...I just can't fucking believe it. Breezy🫶🏽: me too like ugh...but don't worry we'll be here for you Minnie🧃: thank you B

After conversing with Bianca, I decided to stay in my locker room until then since I didn't want to see him again, especially with that fucking smile on his face, knowing he'd be on the same brand as me.

Without realizing it, if he does something wild, either Montez or Jonathan will beat him up; they are so protective of me it's not funny.

I heard a gentle knock on the door. I got up from the couch and almost opened the door, but I was scared to.

"Who's at the door?" I asked.

"It's me, Lash girl!" That voice didn't sound like Lash at all. When I opened the door, he was standing there.

He pushed me back, shutting the door behind him, locking it as he walked up towards me. I backed up, falling on the couch.

A/n: trigger warning contains rape ion want nobody to feel uncomfortable reading this so please and I mean please, skip this scene I'll keep it short I promise 😟

He was hammering me so hard that it made me cry; this man was insane.

He smacked me in the face after gripping me hard around the throat and gave me the most disgusting make out session ever.

"Yo' ass better take this shit, you bitch." He hissed while continuing to pound into my now abused cunt.

"You're hurting me! Get off of me Melo!" I shouted as he covered my mouth.

"You want them to hear us? I expect you to shut the fuck up then." I was crying softly while trying to fight him off of me.

This man was truly fucking nuts; he was doing this without my consent. I felt so powerless that I couldn't even push him off of me; he was more stronger than I was.

Sticking his tongue down my neck while rotating his hips and fiercely hitting my area, tears streamed down my face, and his grasp around my throat was so tight I couldn't breathe.

"Yeah, this is my pussy, you hear me? Yo' ass better not give it to nobody else but me." He slapped me in the face again, causing me to winched at the feeling.

"I fucking hate you...you piece of shit." I said, spitting in his face, and he didn't like that at all.

Grabbing a full load of my hair and assaulting my cervix, forcing me to yell yet again, I'm over here apologizing for it and begging him to stop.

But he didn't listen and continued to rape me in my own locker room, literally.

✧˚°

My body shook fiercely as I stared up at him, putting back on his clothes and mending himself, while he looked down at me, dejected and torn.

He smiled like a smug ass before leaving. "Remember you belong to me and only me." He shut the door, leaving me distressed as my worry gripped my ass. I was a weeping mess as I put on my clothing that he had taken off.

I couldn't stop sobbing. I didn't know who to tell since no one would believe me if I told that a WWE superstar named Carmelo Hayes had just raped his ex-girlfriend in her locker room; they'd think I was insane, so I'll keep it to myself.

After retouching my makeup, I decided to go early. I was able to sneak out before anybody could see me as I drove away from the garage.

My head was spiraling into a melancholy I didn't want to be in; all I wanted was to be happy, but after what occurred, I am now a victim of rape by someone I thought I loved but no longer do.

Now I'm just more broken than ever before he made me feel like this. I eventually arrived home, driving into the driveway as I stepped out of my car.

Opening the door and tossing my shoes someplace while hurrying upstairs to the bathroom, I fell to my knees and vomited into the toilet. I continued to heave up in the toilet until there was nothing left inside of me. I sat on my knees for a minute, tears streaming down my face, weeping silently. Why did this happen to me? I picked up my phone and phoned Trinity's number.

'Please pick up Trin it's urgent.'

OTP Trin🤭🫶🏽: Yo' Yasmine this is Jon Trin is in a match right now what's up?

'Fuck...what am I going to tell Jon?'

Minnie🧃: O-oh I didn't know...I can call back Jon Trin🤭🫶🏽: Yasmine? You don't sound okay did something happen? Minnie🧃: N-no I'm fine look I'll call back later on or tmr actually Trin🤭🫶🏽: nah fuck that what happened Yasmine Minnie🧃: it's nothing J-Jon I swear Trin🤭🫶🏽: stop playing with me Yasmine is about his ass again?

I hung up the phone so quickly that I didn't want to explain to anybody what had occurred to me. I got up from my knees and flushed the toilet as I proceeded towards my bedroom.

I removed my clothing and threw them somewhere so I could burn them later or whenever I wanted as I headed towards my bathroom and turned on the shower.

As I was doing that, I noticed my phone light up, indicating that Jon was calling, but I ignored it because if I had informed him that Carmelo had raped me, he would have been furious, so I now keep my distance from everyone.

Walking inside the shower, I felt the warm water contact my body, sighing in relief and closing my eyes. I had to keep this hidden from everyone, but I know Bianca or Trin will eventually find out.

I rested my head on the damp wall next to me, not understanding why I had to go through this. Why me? Why, oh why? It didn't make sense to me that every time I closed my eyes, I saw him all over me, doing things I never wanted him to do.

I suppose he's telling Trick how he hit it with me and we made stuff up, which I know how dumb Trick is in believing his lies.

I walked out of the shower, wrapped the towel over my entire body, and looked in the mirror, sure that everything would fall into place.

Seeing the marks on my neck it just made me feel disgusted in my body, I turned off the light inside the bathroom while walking out shutting the door behind me.

I sat down on my bed grabbing my phone and saw all of the missed phone calls from Jonathan and some from Bianca too probably Jon told her I was acting weird.

Breezy🫶🏽 sent 4+ messages

Breezy🫶🏽: Yasmine? Jon called me and said that you were acting weird is everything okay? Breezy🫶🏽: I didn't see you on the rest of the show during the draft Breezy🫶🏽: did he do something to you Yasmine? Breezy🫶🏽: please text me back you know I'm here for you.

I didn't know how to feel at the moment it just felt like I was completely numb how was I supposed to tell her or trin about what he had done to me?

I didn't want to leave her or anyone else in the dark but I just couldn't tell.

IMESSAGE 💬 Minnie🧃: I'm fine B Breezy🫶🏽: are you sure? Minnie🧃: yeah, I just felt really tired after the show that's all Breezy🫶🏽: well that's not what Jon had told me when you called looking for Trinity seemed like something happened during that time. Minnie🧃: whatever he told you was a lie I'm fine B I promise Breezy🫶🏽: Yasmine I know you; you don't have to lie to me yk Minnie🧃: IM NOT LYING OKAY...I-I'm just...fuck Bianca...idkkk...

I started to have a mental breakdown again thinking about what Melo did to me he made me feel worthless.

Breezy🫶🏽: what's going on? Calm down talk to me what happened Minnie🧃: Melo...he... Breezy🫶🏽: what did he do Yasmine? talk to me I'm here we are all here for you. Minnie🧃: He fucking raped me Bianca....in my own locker room...he fucking raped me. Breezy🫶🏽: WHAT? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? NAH THATS IT IM TELLING MONTEZ TO COME GET YOU Minnie🧃: O-okay... Breezy🫶🏽: make sure take you let the people know that you're moving out pack all of your belongings okay? Minnie🧃: ight B see you then.

I put on some clothes and began packing all of my belongings I didn't feel safe anymore not even at the company I was with. While I was packing I grabbed my phone texting the person about taking me off the lease due to me moving out tonight hopefully they'll get back with me tomorrow so I can get my money back.

I continue to pack all of stuff making sure that I didn't leave anything else behind and just waited for Montez to come get me. Hopefully when I do go on the smackdown brand they'll protect me.

Fuck Trick maybe if I didn't tell him what happened between me and Melo I wouldn't be in this situation but I just had to run my mouth about it.

And I just knew that his dumbass wouldn't believe me but believe his own best friend such a fucking hypocrite. I heard the door knocking as I got up from the bed walking downstairs opening the door seeing Montez standing there along with Jon.

I couldn't help but to form tears in my eyes hugging them tightly while they did the same for me.

"It's okay little sis we are here for you now." Montez said.

"When we see him it's on sight." Jon said.

We pulled away from each other as I wiped my eyes taking deep breaths, Montez told me to wait in the car while they get my things out from the apartment.

As I was waiting in the car I just looked outside the window in the backseat just in my head wondering if things would've been different if me and him didn't get together.

Maybe I should've listened to them.

SomeThing Bout' Us

biancabelairwwe, MontezFordWWE, jonathanfatu and others liked your post.

minnieminks: on the blue brand with the big dawgs 😘💙

biancabelairwwe: yessss I am so happy girl trinity_fatu: all of us can hangout together now 🥹🥹 minnieminks: @ trinity_fatu yesss finally gosh I missed yall MontezFordWWE: you couldn't put on a different outfit? minnieminks: @ MontezFordWWE here yo' ass go leave me aloneeee brotherr 🙄 jonathanfatu: @ minnieminks I mean he's not wrong 😭😭 carmelohayes: damn all mine 🤭 minnieminks: @ carmelohayes fuck you; you piece of shit.

Read all Comments.

A/n: I am soooo sorry for writing that scene I'm glad I kept it short I didn't want to continue to write that. But Carmelo is in a rude awakening when he gets to smackdown.

ALSO ANOTHER THING WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT SAMI??? HE PISSED ME TF OFF SEEING HIM WITH SOLO ASS.

I hope yall enjoy the chapter, lmk in the comments.

Stay Ucey.

[rsventhesecondd]

no nut november, ᓫ(°⌑°)ǃ

╰ • → Featuring . Hayato Suo as your boyfriend ! ╯

☁️┆ ⤿ collab with @secretlyzlenza ༺  ╰ ღ WBK :  requests open  ╯🦢

warnings . fluff , nsfw , piv , fingering , pet names , slight use of cuss words , not proof read YET , all characters used aged up. Slightly cliché ? note ⧽some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't our first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes. (๑°⌓°๑)

Hayato Suo ˓ would actually last the whole month if he were to take this challenge seriously. And— if you weren't taunting teasing him in the most absurd ways.

"Oh? and what would I get in return by doing this.. challenge?" Suo says with his signature smile.

" Anything you want! " You said, smiling back.

"Really?" He says, tilting his head slightly to the side. — " Yes! As long as it is within my powers. And, the challenge applies to me too, of course. " you added with confidence .

───────── →

act one, aphrodisiac !

You woke up extra early to be able to prepare breakfast this time, only to be greeted by the sight of Suo missing from your bed side. 'what the fuck?'

You stand up from your beside, groggily walking towards the kitchen— and there stands Suo, cooking breakfast like the loving boyfriend that he is. "Breakfast is ready, dove." he says with a smile, placing a plate with your favorite dish on the table in front of you. " Thank you Hayato! " , you said as your grogginess began to disappear. " But what about you? " You questioned, while he sat down watching you eat as he sips a cup of tea.

"Oh, no thanks. I'm—" he says, waving his hand; before you cut him off. " On a diet. Yeah yeah, I know. " You retorted while playfully rolling your eyes as you Continued to eat.

You steal quick glances at him as he reads a book, trying not to be noticed. "Is something wrong? Do you not like the food, my love?" He asked in a worried tone, which of course you quickly responded to. " What? No-no, it taste really good! " You replied in a panicked state , " It's just, I was wondering if you were feeling something different, like maybe lightheaded? "

"Oh? Not really, why would I?" He questioned.

" Nothing, I was just wondering since colds are popular right now, and I saw an article stating that some teas are.. contaminated " in which he nodded in response."Don't worry, I'm not really the type of person to get sick at all, or get affected by such things. Even if something is in my tea. " he assured.

'what the fuck' was what you were thinking at the moment, and for the rest of the day aswell. You literally put 10 doses of aphrodisiacs in his tea kettle the night before incase he woke up before you. Yet, how the hell is he acting like everything's normal the whole day? Maybe he wasn't really lying about the whole spiritual thing in his other eye after all.. Whatever, you'll get him next time!

───────── →

act two, distraction !

" Hayato, what'd you think? Do you think it suits me? " You said, wearing a two piece for the supposed 'pool party' that was coming up. (It was scheduled next January, during NEW YEAR.)

"Why, I think it looks lovely, my love." He said with a smile before excusing himself for his daily meditation. Again, acting like everything was normal.

You groan in frustration as you sat down your beside, running out of ideas. The day was ending, and you tried everything— You sat on his lap while he was reading a book, claiming it was more 'comfortable' , you acted undeniably more touchy than usual, hell— you even woke up early on PURPOSE. You let out a gruff before scrolling through your phone to ease up yourself a little, seeing Suo lay down beside you, doing the usual, reading a book.

After a while, with you giving up, he slowly crept up to you, leaning in for a kiss— 'I knew it, there was no way he would resist me. He just loves me too much' You thought to yourself confidently as your lips tugged slightly to a smile, closing your eyes to prepare for a kiss. Or, so you thought.

he shut the lamp.

He was reaching for the LAMP.

At this point, you wish you'd never introduced him to the challenge in the first place. On the bright side, he probably didn't notice you puckering up your lips in the air, right? Right...

Looking back, you swore you saw a smirk plastered on his lips.

───────── →

act three, forbidden candy !

You tried everything— at this point you're convinced that he's been drinking some tea that cuts off his libido. ( lust )

Well, at the very least; you could atleast ask for a kiss. You've been so touch deprived, and he showed no signs of losing the challenge. You wouldn't want to lose aswell, but a kiss wouldn't hurt, right?

You waited for Suo to come inside your shared bedroom, and after awhile he did. " Hey, Hayato.. "

"Yes, my love?" He said with a smile. " Kiss me. " You responded, swallowing your embarrassment.

"Oh, but wouldn't that be against the rules?" He then asked, his head tilting slightly to the side. " No, it isn't. And it's not like it's gonna turn into a whole make out session. " You reasoned.

" Hm, okay. Come along then. " He says, patting to the spot closer to him. You went along, as you went closer to him, looking him in the eye as your lips touched.

You melt into the kiss, your tongue missing his. But sadly, you could not allow such thing in terms of the conditions you promised that you would meet.

You pulled away ever so slightly, eyes starting to dim. But what could you do? Nothing but resist your temptations within. "Would you mind kissing me again, my love? Perhaps using our tongues wouldn't be against the rules." He says, voice laced with honey. But who are you to disagree? He was asking so nicely.

You nodded, quickly rushing in. His tongue swiftly moving against yours in a smooth rhythm that could heal any person from within. As he kisses you, he reached out to get something, opened, aswell.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless. He then pops something in his mouth as he suddenly kissed you once again, forcefully letting you eat some type of thing. You swallowed it subconsciously, " What the fuck? " You muttered out as your surroundings started to blur.

" Hayato, what the fuck did you feed me. " You said, breathing getting heavier as your body started heating up.

Cute. Suo thought to himself.

If only you knew that what he fed you was actually just plain rock candy.

───────── →

act four, main course ! final

And that's how you ended up in this situation.

You rutted against Suo's cock, " Hayato.. please? "

"Please what, pretty girl?" He questions, a glint in his eyes. He was enjoying this.

" fuck me. Please? " You begged, tears beginning to well up your eyes. You were so.. frustrated. You tried so hard to make him lose the challenge, when it was you begging him to fuck you in the end.

"Oh my, I can't do that. That would mean I'd lose the challenge if I do." He says, his lips twitching; Trying hard not to creep up to a grin.

" Fuck, I lose. I lose, okay? I'll do the work if that's what you want. " You said, unzipping his pants.

"Very well then, go on, pretty." He says, helping you remove his pants. You remove his remaining garments, looking at his cock. It's so pretty, flushed pink and curved up slightly to the side with a huge vein along with it. You traced your finger around the vein, causing him to shiver. Slowly making your way as you placed his tip inside your mouth, tracing the vein that was surround his cock. Causing him to lay his head back. " You're still sensitive here, hm? " You teased before taking him whole, gagging, almost. His hand made it's way to your hair, caressing it lightly. He was never really a type of person to gag you so roughly. You bobbed your head up and down, earning a soft groan from him.

"How embarrassing, I'm the only one naked. I must admit, I— hah.. Missed your touch, my love." He added, precum leaking from his cock as you gave his slit a few kitty licks.

You undress yourself, aligning yourself with his cock. As much as Suo wants seeing you in control, or atleast try to, before you could push the head of his cock into you, he swiftly changed your positions. " W-What are you doing? I was gonna— " You said, cut off by a finger inside of you, earning a small moan. "Now now, don't be so angry. You can't just get anything you want all so sudden, my love." He said, adding a finger, stretching you out. "Not when you've been such a bad girl." He says, pushing his fingers in and out, curling them the right amount. " Fuck– Hayato.. " You moaned out, turning your head back from the stimulation. "Right, I almost lost thought." Hayato said, quickly replacing his fingers with his cock instead— causing you to let out a choked moan. "I'm offended." he continued. "You really thought I wouldn't notice that you put something in my tea back then?" He says, moving his hips onto a different angle. An angle it would hit all the right spots. "Do answer, love" He says with an innocent smile, as if he wasn't just re-arranging your organs. And even if you did try to answer, you just couldn't. All you could say at that moment was endless moans and whimpers following each thrust he was giving at such pace. "You know, I find it really cute how you were so confident that you would win this.. 'challenge' of yours, " he spoke, breathing getting heavier. "Trying all sorts of absurd ways to get my attention. When in the end, it's you begging me to come and soothe your desires" He added, kissing your tears away. "You're still sensitive here, hm?" He teased, fastening the pace.

"Fuck— Haya, 'm gonna cum!" You whimpered out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay. Cum for me, my precious." He coed, groaning as you reached your climaxed, following his.

"Now now, don't tell me you're out cold, love?" He teased. "Lets go for another round."

note . the reason he didn't let you ride was because he was worried that it'd hurt you too much not to get prepped since you guys haven't done it for nearly a month. (´·ω·)ﾉ(._.`)

ravens note . hi! Actually, don't believe @secretlyzlenza I literally did all the work guys theyre so fake. 😒 Cancel them!!! Joke. All they said was that it was no nut Nov and I got an idea from it and they demanded me to add creds/hj🙄 anyways, thats all!

— sincerely, raven !

[floret-affini-research]

RESEARCH LOG 015

RESEARCHER M. Arum

AUDIO FILE DETECTED, LOADING TRANSCRIPT...

"This is Maria Arum, Second Floret, researcher on the relationships between Affini and their Florets. Today I will be conducting an interview on an Affini who enjoys turning her Florets into... dolls. This log shall cover the questions of the consent of the Florets in being "dollified" and how the process occurs. It will also provide a live demonstration of this happening with the Affini and a new doll. I have been permitted to conduct this interview by my Mistress, Verdianthos Arum, Fourth Bloom. Do I have your consent to record you and include you in my research? This will include giving the details of your name and the names of your Florets."

I do believe you already asked me that darling~

"Yes, but I prefer ensuring that the consent to record is also provided in the recording."

Well then, I do indeed consent.

"Perfect, in that case please state your name and the names of your Florets."

I am Laburnum Solanum, Third Bloom, and these are my darling little dolls, Erika and Grace Solanum, First and Second Florets. Aren't they just the cutest little things?~

"I... yeah, they are rather cute. Are they normally so immobile? I can barely see them breathing."

Only if they're well behaved~ They do so very much enjoy being like this, completely thoughtless and just feeling wonderful, having me play with them and dressing them up as I please~

"It is rather... interesting to see. Sorry, I feel slightly lightheaded."

Oh that's quite alright darling, just feel free to take your time~

"Thank... you. So, the process of becoming a doll? How does... all that work? Ugh, my head is too full."

Well, you're the one who should tell me~ After all, you're currently going through the process of becoming a good doll~ The process starts with some Class-H xenodrugs to allow you to slowly drift deeper into what you truly want~

"Huh? S-sorry, I'm... having trouble understanding you right now."

Awww, your poor little head must feel so heavy now~ You shouldn't have to have so many thoughts clouding your mind~ You should just take a deep breath, and let yourself

FALL

My my, you certainly are rather receptive to my words~ But that shouldn't be too surprising~ After all, good dolls shouldn't think~

"Good dolls shouldn't think"

Very good~ You're such a good doll already~ I wonder just how far you want me to push you~ Just how much you want to be a mindless little doll~

"I want to be a good doll. Good dolls don't think"

My my, if you didn't already have an owner, I would love to make you one of my precious dolls~ But your Mistress did tell me to not push my luck too far with you or you might really lose yourself~ I'm going to give you the counteragents now, and if you ever want to be a doll again, ask your Mistress and feel free to come back any time~

"I'm a good d- wh-what? S-sorry, I'm not sure what happened. I-I think I fell asleep there for a bit. Where was I?"

Oh, you already asked all your questions, but you looked so very cozy that I didn't want to wake you up~

"O-oh. Well uh, in that case, thank you for your time and for providing me with this information. I do hope you'll allow me to sit here a while longer, I can't really feel my legs for some reason. Do you have any water? I think I might still not be completely recovered from the implant procedure."

Of course, here you are darling~ And I do hope you enjoy listening to the demonstration later since you fell asleep during it~

"Oh, right, thank you. I'll go ahead and get going in a bit then. Terminate audio recording."

[lunaandco]

spit

pairing: pedri x ofc

social media au

summary: pedri and rue hard launch but her fans notice he might be the muse for her dirtiest lyrics

masterlist

@ pedri posted:

rueful, feeeeerrr and 1.292.290 more liked

pedri: ni siquiera me miró dos veces la vez que nos conocimos <3

feeeeerrr: si le rompes el corazón me aseguraré de que la canción de ruptura acabe en el spotify wrapped

>pedri: hermano, cuanta confianza

>>rueful: lov u fer

user1: pedri pulling my favourite underground artist was not on my bingo card for 2024

>user2: share her name sis

>>user1: I'm gatekeeping her for as long as I can >:)

>>>user3: it's @ rueful

>>>>user2: thanks girlie

>>>>>user1: not cool

user4: nooo pedri I wanted to gatekeep her forever

>rueful: me too, babes, me too

user5: cool hair

user6: was anyone going to tell me pedri has a girlfriend or did I have to find out on my own?

@ rueful posted:

pedri, gracemace and 23.383 more liked

rueful: he thinks he's special (he is)

pedri: esa foto no 😭

>rueful: the dangers of going public, there is more where that came from

>>feeeeerrr: I'd pay for more of those

>>>rueful: I take paypal

>>>>pedri: EY

user7: is this pedris girl?

>user8: looks like she is

>>user9: no one has ever heard of her before him. she's with him to promote herself

>>>user10: bruh

user11: still trying to wrap my head over this crossover 😭😭😭

>user12: thank god I found someone that was here before pedri 😭😭😭 I'm going insane with all this new people

>>user11: sometimes gatekeeping is good, actually

>>>user12: now the real question is, is pedri the guy from spit?

>>>>user11: fuck 😳😳😳

@ rueful posted:

pedri, gracemace and 54.467 more liked

rueful: spit tour dump

pedri: barcelona was the best part

>gracemace: no <3

>>pedri: I thought you had already accepted me

>>>gracemace: trial period is never truly over

>>>>rueful: never beating the overprotective bestie allegations

user13: great, but I need to know if she was thinking about pedri when she wrote "spit in my mouth and ill swallow you whole/spit in my chest and ill eat you alive"

>user14: those lyrics live rent free on my mind 😳😳

>>user15: i mean... footballers love spitting on the pitch

gracemace: an amazing experience, hoping you'll let me be your background vocalist for the rest of my life.

>rueful: girl I can't live without you. I'm begging you to come with me on every tour.

>>gracemace: good 😈😈

user16: girl I need to know how she met pedri

user17: rue fang please never change

user18: her dirty lyrics are making me go through a second sexual awakening

>pedri: x2

>>user18: AYOOO

>>>user19: ariana what are you doing here

@ pedri posted:

rueful, gracemace and 5.382.290 more liked

pedri: bd'or ceremony 2024

feeeeerrr: so proud of you, manito

>pedri: <3

user20: somebody tell bro it was him who got nominated, not his girlfriend

>user21: can't help but stan a simp

pablogavi: el año que viene es tuyo hermano

>pedri: JA

gracemace: how did I end up here

rueful: love u

>pedri: love u more

user22: still trying to figure out how they met

>user23: RIGHT? like it's such a random pairing

>>user24: the PR is PRing

@ rueful posted:

pedri, gracemace and 102.573 more liked

user25: so she's finally writing about him?

rueful: new single '8' coming at soon ;)

>feeeeerrr: unfortunately she's being doing that for a couple of years now. yall don't understand how annoying it is for your favourite singer to write about your brother

>>user25: BRO???

>>>user26: SPIT?????

user27: omfg

pedri: and to think you couldn't look me in the face at first 😏😏

>rueful: I was embarrassed, okay?

>>feeeeerrr: and you didn't want to come to the concert cabron

>>>pedri: not my fault you only like artist with three monthly listeners on spoty

>>>>rueful: bro

>>>>>pedri: don't call me bro 🥺

gracemace: 8 seconds, 8 minutes, 8 days, 8 weeks, 8 months...

>rueful: shut it

>>pedri: 8 on the back of his shirt

>>>rueful: EY

user28: still think it's PR?

>user29: always has been

>>user30: idk, girlie, I wouldn't write a song about a dude I don't love

>>>user31: allegedly it's more than one

>>>>user32: spit 💀💀

user33: never recovering from the fact that spit was written about pedri. he looks too innocent for THAT

>user34: he's a footballer. he's anything but innocent

[fcdcdmcmories]

"YOU'RE NOT WHO I REMEMBER. but.. in so many ways.. you still are. some things never change, i guess." making it clear that last part had been a compliment? it had been. "what? you mean to tell me that.. he loved someone? and that someone.. saw past all that, enough to love him back? that's.. well? that takes the cake for the strangest thing i've heard all day." it did. finn pederson was a monster. it was the only thing that he had always taken as certain - every single time that he saw him hurt her, every single time he found himself powerless to stop it - that resentment had only grown more and more. "goddamn it, you.. you know precisely the kind of effect you have on me," finding himself glancing at her lips for a second there. he wanted so many things he shouldn't want, because he had a girlfriend and this was his life now and he should be fighting for it and yet-- FUCK. what if what he wanted was her? back with him? to be back by her side again? clearing his throat. "you've been here not even for a whole hour and you're already making me question things i thought i was damn sure about. that's something." that no one else would have been able to do? yes. god, he had tried. to move on, to date other people, to get her out of his head and out of his heart, but.. it felt as if he was being pulled towards her - more and more. "no. we haven't. we sure as hell did try and liked to call ourselves that - friends - but.. it was.. only a label to hide the real truth. wasn't it? of what.. we really were to each other back then. i don't think that.. we could ever be just friends. do you?" the notion felt absurd and fucking impossible. right? how could he ever even try to be just her friend, when right now - even just holding her hand was making him question if he shouldn't just throw it all out the window? "no. i don't, but.." honesty only, right? "but.. i got a second chance, even after all the bad shit i did. pretty sure gabi wouldn't mind giving you one, too. YOU.. IT LOOKS LIKE YOU DESERVE IT. just.. please, don't let her down. she loves you. it'd break her heart if you did." don't let me down, was more what he was saying. why did it feel as if he was not just talking about the kid now? "even with the usually high price we had to pay to get those little.. happy moments together? even with.. how it ended? you'd still say that?" looking over at her in awe, because it wasn't what he had been expecting. she wasn't what he had been expecting and he didn't know what to do with it. how to feel. how could he? "you know, i.. i thought that it'd be easier. that when we saw each other again, it'd be easier for me to hate you and that.. i could just send you away and get back to my life and.. that'd be that. i guess i was just fooling myself, huh? i didn't expect you to be so--" her, but in a different way. a better way. a new way? "and now.. i have no clue what to do. and i know. laney and the girls and will.. they matter. they're my family. so we... we were here before? and we.. got back together? for real?" confused but also.. curious? perhaps he should be asking what had happened or trying to see if she was lying, but.. typical.

all that he could do was glance at their joined hands, as if he was trying to figure it all out. how, though? "i'm sorry.. what? ten dogs? i didn't think you wanted even one? how did that happen?" he worked with will during his spare time from the restaurant - but that - this.. was new. wasn't it? coming from her? it absolutely WAS. "then let's go? we will have more privacy upstairs. just gotta take the lift and we'll be right there and.. away from prying eyes? i don't know what's all this. people usually keep to themselves, but..." now, everyone seemed to be stealing glances their way and whispering and he could have sworn he saw one guy pointing his phone at them. what the fuck? for some reason, it just made him clutch her hand tighter, standing in front of her rather.. protectively. all on instinct? yes. not that he noticed it. "elevator's just over here. come on." / @xtinyslip

PARKER FROWNED, RAISING AN EYEBROW AT THAT. was all of this.. strange? in so many ways, he thought that it was. "the you that i knew would have never been caught doing that. you've... you've really changed?" he tested the notion, almost as if he was trying to see if it felt right saying it out loud. it did. it did and strangely.. it made him relax a little bit. in a way that he hadn't been.. expecting. "A LOT OF THINGS ARE DIFFICULT TO IMAGINE, BUT.. APPARENTLY.. THEY'RE THE TRUTH? just.. he.. he just left you alone? out of the blue?" that was difficult to believe. to imagine - when they had spent so long running from the finn pederson. and now.. that was it? he only laughed, even if it was quite bitterly. "you really have no idea, do you? of the effect you have on people? ON ME?" she hadn't even been here for that long and he was already questioning everything that he had made himself believe over the last couple of months. it had been his truth and out of a sudden and now? it.. wasn't? what was he even meant to do with any of this right now? "you.. what? you decided you want us to be friends or something of the sort?" he doubted that was ever going to happen. two people who had felt as strongly as they did about each other - that didn't just go away, did it? he didn't want to be her friend. what kind of stupid notion was that? he wanted to reach forward and kiss her again and to hold her and to know what it was like to be able to be by her side again and-- WHAT? there it was again. the effect that she had on him. he couldn't trust her and he knew that and yet, after spending even this little time with her? HE WAS ALREADY BEING HAUNTED BY THOUGHTS AND FEELING HE WAS TRYING TO PUSH AWAY. feelings that seemed to keep on.. pulling him towards her. right? "then.. show her that. she's a good kid. she'll be hesitant, at first, but.. i know she loves you. that hasn't gone away, i don't think. you're family..." clearing his throat. "to her." and to him, too. but right now, all of it was messy and.. what could he do? say? "we were and.. for some brief moments that we were able to steal every now and then, we were happy. the happiest. but.. we always knew it'd end in tragedy and.. it did. didn't it?" it was as if he was frozen. it was as if he was frozen right there, on spot, as he squeezed her hand back. three times, knowing.. deep down, he knew what that meant. i don't think that i could ever not love you. hadn't he known that? from the second she had walked in, he had known that he did still love her. that he was still fucking madly in love with her? "I.. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT RIGHT NOW, BUT.. YEAH. MAYBE YOU DON'T HAVE TO." did he want her to leave? to walk out and so he'd never see her again? it felt like.. a fate worse than death. so no.. no, he didn't want that. "but.. i remember everything so clearly. this is my life. right here. this restaurant, my daughters, laney, will - all of it. AND THE LAST TIME YOU AND I SAW EACH OTHER WAS.. BACK HOME. YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT'S NOT IT? THAT I'M MISSING TIME?" it was shocking, yes, but.. not as much as the rest. he froze as her hand touched his and without thinking, he found himself lacing their fingers together again, gently.. almost as if he was afraid of what would happen if he thought TOO MUCH. "you've never been a disaster, but.." but there were already people staring at them and at her and whispering to themselves and he wanted to.. SHELTER her from this. from everything. didn't he? for some reason, the looks made him feel.. uneasy. nervous. mostly for her, right? he stood up, but.. didn't let go of her hand yet. was he really about to say this? to invite her to his home, when he wasn't sure she wasn't going to stab him in the back again? but she was.. so different and seeing her like this, it.. "my place is.. just upstairs? it's the studio above the restaurant and we.. hm.. we could continue talking there? if you'd like? IT'S.. AWAY FROM PRYING EYES. that is.. if.. you don't want to leave right now?" why was he hoping she wouldn't? / @xtinyslip

[makoodles]

ミmy daddy didn't love me so i guess i've moved onto you

🍓 pairing: captain john price x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, daddy kink, undefined age gap, oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, both reader and price have a daddy kink that they indulge in with very little discussion, allusions to reader having a bad relationship with her father (but nothing concrete), price uses a lot of pet names for reader and also calls himself daddy several times

title is inspired by the song peter bogdanovich by my queen CMAT

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that you’re damn good at your job.

You have to be in order to survive in this ridiculous goddamn base. There are protocols to be followed, risk assessments to carry out, weapons and equipment requisition requests to send off, and you have to handle almost all of it for Task Force 141. That’s one thing about working with the military – they’re all about action, and rarely have the patience to fill in their paperwork, and then when they do it’s never done properly.

You’re patient when you need to be, willing to push when you have to, and you make sure shit gets done. It’s not an easy job; you work your ass off, and it’s often thankless. Most of your job is done behind the scenes, whether that’s requisitioning on-the-fly tactical or strategic airlifts, liaising with other units, or trying desperately to smooth over any little problems that might crop up with the higher-ups. 

It’s challenging and exhausting, and you love it, but damn, it can be fucking infuriating. Working in a male-dominated environment is a little bit soul-destroying, with every condescending comment and lascivious gaze that lingers over your body. But none of that matters, because you don’t need male approval to excel at your job. You don’t need male approval for anything.

You repeat it to yourself on the daily, which is something that you’ve never had to do before. But before, you weren’t working with Captain John Price.

He’s not… rude, per se. If anything, he’s always coolly polite. But it’s obvious, so obvious, that he just barely tolerates you. He’s gruff, short, to-the-point, and never speaks to you outside of brusque orders. It takes weeks for him to start trusting you with even the most basic of files, and even then chunks of information are often redacted. And it shouldn’t matter; you’ve worked for men like him before, you know how it goes, and if anything he’s one of the better ones.

In the beginning, when you had first been assigned to the task force, Price had not been happy about it. It had been a tough transition; your assignment had been approved by Laswell in order to take some of the strain of liaising off both her and Price, but the Captain hadn’t been too pleased about it. He had seen you as a sort of interloper, a silly little pencil-pusher sent in by the brass to do the grunt work of administration that no one else wants to do.

But you work hard, you always have done. And maybe… maybe, part of the reason that you end up busting your balls so hard is because you want– no. Maybe you need his approval. You’d prefer not to think about it; it’s easier to throw yourself into your work, and pretend that you’re doing it for you.

You’re not even sure how it started, but at some point, Price starts looking at you differently. Maybe he realises that you’re competent at your job, or maybe he just needs to get used to you. Maybe, you hope, he’s finally starting to realise that you’re good at what you do; that you can be an asset to the team, so long as they actually work with you. 

Whatever it is, he eases off. Stops being such a hard-ass, starts giving you space to do your thing. Eventually, he starts delegating too — stops hoarding the work like a miser, and finally starts treating you like you’re capable of something more than just photocopying.

He’s not a bad boss, not by a long shot. He’s kind, determined, patient when it matters, with a wry sense of humour. He’s also fiercely protective over his team, and that includes you now. 

But he’s also older, by at least fifteen years, and he’s not always the most diligent with paperwork. Typical man of action, you’ve seen it a hundred times before. There’s always something more important to do, and while he’s always so cognisant of your workload and careful not to add to it, he is also all too happy to let you take the reins when it comes to bureaucracy. You like to think that you’ve proved yourself to him, but maybe he just respects competency.

That should be it.

But you’re so ashamed to admit that even when Price stops treating you like you’re a hostile target, you can’t stop hoping for his attention. Your mental chants of I don’t need male approval for anything, I don’t need male approval for anything become a daily thing, and sometimes a several-times-a-day thing.

Because the thing is, Price can be a difficult man to please. He’s always so busy that he doesn’t have time to give you the approval that you’re straining for, but when he does it gives you the most shameful warm glow in your belly. 

A brief nod or a low grunted ‘Thanks, sweetheart’ is enough to fuel you for days now. Even better is when you’re walking along beside him, briefing him on the latest update from the higher-ups, and he leans his head in towards you as he listens intensely, sometimes even laying his large palm against the small of your back. Ostensibly, it’s to lead the way and guide you out of the path of the running cadets, but it just toes the line of professionalism and you flounder under the touch.

It’s stupid. You’re stupid. He’s just a coworker, and you need to keep your issues to yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

You’re perfectly self-aware enough to admit when you’re in a bad mood.

You start the day tired, and when you check your reflection in the mirror first thing that morning you’re greeted with the sight of a big, fuck-off pimple on your chin. It’s big, it’s throbbing, it practically has its own fucking heartbeat. You barely restrain the urge to pick at it, though you can feel it even when you’re not looking at it.

Your mood doesn’t improve when you get to the small kitchenette by your office and find that someone has used the last of the fancy French Vanilla flavoured coffee that you’ve stocked for yourself. As if that’s not bad enough, your little stash of chocolate digestives you keep for yourself for emergency bad days have disappeared too.

You clench your jaw and continue about your business. Whatever. You can survive without your coffee and chocolate.

Your resolve falters when you see the pile of paperwork on your desk, but whatever. It’s all part of the job. A little chocolate biscuit to nibble on would definitely make your job easier, but you’re a big girl and you’re just going to have to go without.

Then you get the phone call. One that makes you want to bang your head against your desk hard enough to knock yourself unconscious so that you don’t have to deal with this.

It’s time to update the TF141 personnel files. Orders from above, since there’s been significant changes to medical and surgical history in the last couple of months from injuries on missions.

 Normally, that’s not such a big deal. It just involves updating their medical and technical files, making sure that nothing major has changed with regards their addresses or other personal information, even though a big portion of it ends up redacted anyway. 

And, naturally, updating their photographs for their files.

You start easy. 

Gaz is happy to come to your office when you text him, and he stands obediently for you as you take his picture. He’s gotten a metal plate fitted in his kneecap from the last time his file has been updated, and he sits and chats easily with you as you go through his information. He’s a sweet guy, and so easy to talk to, and you sigh with the knowledge that no one is going to make your job as simple and leisurely as Gaz just has.

After he leaves, you target Soap. He comes to your office as easily as Gaz, but he’s significantly more difficult to photograph.

He just keeps smiling, no matter how many times you tell him to quit it. 

“It’s a personnel file photograph, not a photo for your Instagram.” You sigh, irritated. “I need you to have a blank, neutral expression. It’s like a passport photo, Sergeant. It’s for a government document.”

“Can’t help it, lass.” Soap says easily, that stupid grin not even dimming. “I see a camera, I smile. It’s muscle memory.”

You think that your irritation is only encouraging him, which only worsens your mood. In the end, you don’t get a single usable photograph of him for his file. You have to give up on him, swearing that you’ll come get him to try again later. He leaves your office still chuckling, like he thinks your frustration is cute.

You have tougher targets to tackle.

The difficult part isn’t even taking Ghost’s photo — the difficult part is catching him in the first place.

You spend almost three hours trying to track him down (because he won’t read your texts and your phone calls go unanswered), wobbling all over base in your stupid high heels and somehow missing him by mere moments every time. You arrive in the gym, the mess, the firing range, even the barracks, only to see the man’s enormous broad back disappearing out of the other door as soon as you get there.

You can only assume that Soap had given Ghost the heads up that you were on the prowl with a mission and a camera, because the lieutenant is avoiding you like the goddamn plague.

So yeah. You’re in a real bad fucking mood. But you can’t help it — some days your job is entirely thankless, and your mood drops so low that you feel like going home and crying. But you can’t, and you don’t want to show weakness in front of these military idiots, so all you can do is lock your jaw and go about your business the best you can.

You go back to your office, jaw and fists clenched tight, and collapse at your desk with your head in your hands. You have to take a few deep, slow breaths to try and calm yourself, but then you make the mistake of checking your reflection and your mood sinks lower again when you see that the stupid pimple on your chin has worsened.

God, this is just not your day. You have to get these stupid files updated, or it’ll fall on your head. 

Eventually, you reluctantly stand up. There’s no point moping; you have a job to do, whether you like it or not, and your next victim is Captain Price.

You walk to Price’s office swiftly, your feet aching in your stupid heels. You wish you had worn something more sensible, but… well. Even subconsciously, you want to impress.

When you reach his office, you throw the door open and march inside without even bothering to knock. 

Price is sitting behind his desk, and his head snaps up as soon as you walk in. His expression is set in a hard scowl, though it softens when he sees who it is. You guess you don’t exactly pose much of a threat, so he sees no use in posturing.

“I need you for a moment.” You bite out, allowing the door to slam shut behind you.

You hear Price sigh, before he leans back and settles into his chair, making himself comfortable. He’s wearing the same dark compression shirt that he usually wears for training exercises or to the gym, and he’s recently groomed his beard down too. He looks good, though it takes a colossal amount of effort for you to not notice, because you have other things you need to focus on right now.

“Hello to you too, love.” He grunts, wiping a hand over his eyes. “What’s the problem?”

You struggle not to react to that, his low voice both soothing and igniting something in your blood. You take a breath, try to calm down. You’re a professional, and you’re not here to embarrass yourself in front of the captain.

“I’m updating personnel files,” You say, and this time it comes out calm and steady, “I need to take a picture of you.”

Price’s gaze lingers on you, his stern brow softening a little. For a moment, you think that maybe this is actually going to be easy. That he’ll just stand up and take the fucking picture, so that the two of you can go back to your jobs and relax for the rest of the day.

But then–

“Jesus, kid.” He sighs, already shaking his head. “I’m up to my eyes right now. Leave it ‘till tomorrow.”

For a moment, you don’t react at all. You just stare at him, letting those dismissive words settle over you. He’s already looking back at his paperwork, mission briefings and maps littering the desk, and you feel so effectively dismissed. You feel small, so silly and stupid standing in front of him in a way that you haven’t felt since you first started working with the task force. You had thought that you were past this, that you had earned some meagre sort of respect from him.

“I need it done today.” You say, and your voice comes out a little hollow to your own ears.

You don’t need male validation. You don’t. But damn, you’ve had a rough day and the fact that your captain isn’t even bothering to look at you makes you want to cry.

Price sighs, and rubs at the crease between his eyes. He looks just as tired as you feel.

“Yeah, well. I don’t have time. Tomorrow.”

You swallow, pursing your lips. He’s so effortlessly dominant, which means that his careless dismissal stings all the more.

“I have to get the whole team done,” You say, struggling to keep your voice firm. “Soap wouldn’t stop smiling for the camera, I couldn’t find Farah anywhere, and Ghost–”

Price gives a sharp, derisive snort. “Forget Ghost.”

You scowl. “I need to do the whole squad.”

“Not Ghost.” Price repeats, this time slower and with more emphasis. “Simon doesn’t do photos.”

You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. You’ve been working alongside the task force for a while now, and you’re familiar with Lieutenant Riley’s penchant for covering his face. It’s not something you have a problem with – usually.

“There’s no reason for him to be the exception to personnel photos, Captain.” You say through gritted teeth. “Everyone else is being photographed. The task force might be covert, but Lieutenant Riley is no more–”

“Christ, enough.” Price snaps, his voice a deep boom that has your mouth closing with a click. “The One Four One is my squad, in case you’ve forgotten. I know these lads, and I’m telling you to leave it out.”

You stare, a little taken aback by the harshness in his voice. He hasn’t been this sharp with you in months, not since you had started to prove yourself competent, useful. Now, you can see the warning signs of his bad mood; the circles under his eyes are pronounced, his skin dull in the ugly fluorescent lights of his office. He looks exhausted, his skin lined and dry like he hasn’t been drinking enough water.

You realise, a little too late, that you might have been pushing your luck by insisting on something as silly as personnel file photos. TF 141 had only returned from deployment at the beginning of the week, and Price has no doubt been drowning in reports since.

“This is why I told Laswell you weren’t necessary,” His snarl is entirely unlike him, and he rubs his face furiously, his palms rasping through his beard. “I don’t need someone coming in here and making demands of my squad for– for fucking photographs.”

You inhale shakily through your nose; to your utter horror, you can feel your eyes burn with hot wet tears. It’s stupid – you’ve dealt with far crueller words from far harsher men. The nature of your job often puts you in the firing line for frustration, and when it bubbles over it’s frequently directed at you. 

But this… this feels different, for some reason. You’ve been working your ass off to try and earn some recognition from Price, to show him that you’re a valuable asset to the team, and so his sharp, frustrated dismissal of you cuts deeper than it should.

You hate that your eyes are burning like this. You don’t want Price to think of you as useless, or as the silly little girl who was put on the team by the brass who can’t even do her job right. He was just starting to think of you as competent, and it hurts your ego to have to go to him for help with something that you should be more than capable of handling yourself in the first place.

“Right,” You say, and even you’re startled by the sharpness in your tone. “Fine. Forget the file updates, then.”

You step forward, jaw clenched hard, and toss the files you’ve been carrying around all day onto his desk. They hit the surface with a smack that feels uncomfortably loud in the tense silence that’s fallen over the room.

“I’ll tell the higher-ups that you’re handling it.” You continue, your voice coming out brattier than you’d like. “Since obviously I have no idea what I’m doing–”

“Oh, don’t do that.” Price sighs, as though you’re the one being unreasonable. “What I’m saying is, if you’re going to work with the team, you have to understand the team–”

That, you think, might just push you over the edge.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You snap out, and Price’s mouth closes. “D’you think I’m– that I’m some kind of idiot?”

Price blinks. It seems like you’ve managed to take him by surprise, as though your bad mood rivals his just enough to pull him out of his own grumpy form entirely. He opens his mouth again, but you’re not ready to hear him speak again just yet.

“I’m here because Laswell put in a request for me to work with you and your squad, Captain. I’m considered an asset to the teams that I work with,” You’re scowling thunderously, all the tension and frustration that’s been mounting all day spilling over. “And I don’t have to put up with being dismissed and unappreciated when I know that I would be respected in other squads for the work that I do.”

Price raises his hands, a frown creasing his brow. “Kid, that’s not–”

Usually, being called ‘kid’ by Price has a warm glow settling in your stomach that you’re absolutely not interested in examining, but this time it only lights an infuriated fire in your belly. 

“Don’t!” You snap, your breath juddering unsteadily. “God, you think I enjoy being treated like an idiot? You think I haven’t had to deal with this from men my whole career? My whole life? Even my father–”

To your abject horror, a lump forms in your throat and you can’t finish that sentence. Your eyes are hot with unshed tears, and you’re pretty sure your lip is trembling. 

Price stands, his stern expression slackening into something like uncomfortable surprise as he moves to step around the desk.

“Hey,” He soothes, lifting his hands. “I’m not your father.”

“I know that!” You snap, irate. You’re frustrated with yourself, embarrassed at what you’ve unintentionally given away. “I wouldn’t want you to be!”

Price’s expression flickers, as though he can’t decide quite how to react to you. You’re more than aware that you’re being childish, but you find yourself unable to temper your overreactions. In the face of your tears and your frustrated anger, Price looks like he’s at a loss.

“All I’ve done is work hard, and tried to take the burden off you to make your job a little easier.” You continue before he can interrupt again. “And all I get in return is stress, and my chocolate biscuits eaten, and breakouts, and– and–”

“Kid–”

“The only person who wasn’t an absolute dickhead to me today was Garrick,” You rage, on a roll now. “Everyone else has just been so– and look how bad my skin has gotten from the stress of having to deal with men who want to act like children–”

Price watches you with an expression that is plainly bewildered as you gesture at the stupid pimple that’s been throbbing on your chin all day. You don’t even think you’re making sense, too lost in your frustration and humiliation to be properly aware of what you’re saying. 

“Your… skin.” He repeats, a little disbelieving. 

You whirl away, agitated. You’re not getting your point across well, and Price must think you’re simply demented. 

“Hey,” He says slowly, approaching from around the side of his desk. “I didn’t mean to suggest that you weren’t doing a decent job–”

“Whatever.” You mutter, running your hands over your skirt in an attempt to straighten out the creases. “Whatever.”

It’s too little, too late. He’s always been a bit of a hardass, and you’ve always tried so hard to please him, to impress him. But you can’t bear to make a fool of yourself like this any longer.

“I’ll leave the paperwork to you. Update it, or don’t. It doesn’t matter.” You say shortly, turning on your heel and marching towards the door.

“Wait,” Price calls out. His voice is firm, echoing with the grim certainty of a man who is used to being obeyed.

But you’re not one of his soldiers, and his command falls on deaf ears. Your skin is still prickling with humiliation; you don’t think you’ve ever been so desperate to get away from the Captain before.

“Sweetheart, just wait a minute,” Price says, and this time you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “I understand that you’re stressed, that’s normal. Everyone gets stressed in this line of work. But you can’t just go and get your knickers in a twist because some of the lads are bein’ difficult–”

“My knickers are none of your business!” You yell. Truthfully, it’s more of a shriek, high-pitched and unsteady enough to have Price’s eyes widening and darting towards the door as though worried about someone overhearing from the corridor.

“Whoa, okay,” Price says with the air of trying to soothe a spooked horse. “You're right. Your... knickers... ain't my concern. But helping keep this squad running smoothly is, and that can't happen if my admin is on edge."

“Oh, give me a break!” You’re beyond on-edge now, sailing right into fury. “You ignore me most of the time when you're not on deployment, you dismiss me when I’m just trying to do my job, but now you’re telling me you need me to not be on edge?”

You’ve reached the door now, your hand clenched tight around the doorhandle as you take one last moment to turn and look at him. He’s stepping towards you, no doubt with the intent to stop you before you can leave, but you don’t plan on giving him the chance.

“Kid, just hang on a damn minute–”

“Sort the files yourself, or do whatever you want.” You bite out, yanking the door open but pausing in the doorway. “I don’t even care anymore. It’s your squad, you do it.”

Price takes a breath, visibly fighting for patience. Truthfully, you don’t know how he hasn’t lost his head with you already. He was already exhausted and in an obviously bad mood when you had stormed in here, and it couldn’t be more obvious that you’ve just made it worse with all of your frenzied anger and borderline hysteria. 

The fact that Price is staying calm and level even in the face of your stress-induced meltdown only makes you feel all the more ridiculous. You wish he would get angry, that he would snap at you like he had when you had first walked in – at least that way you could pretend that you don’t notice the way his stressed scowl had melted into a look of concern as soon as he had seen the tears welling up in your stinging eyes.

“And you don’t have to wear that stupid hat, we’re indoors!” You yell, your voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.

You just have enough time to see his hand reach up to touch the brim of his boonie hat before you hurriedly bolt out of the room, escaping into the corridor before he can stop you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

���— just thinking that maybe I’d be better suited with another team, that’s all. I heard Kortac’s liaison is approaching maternity leave—”

“That position is going to be filled internally,” Laswell’s voice is calm over the secure phoneline, a stark contrast to the shaky undertone of stress in your own. “Besides, organising a transfer like that is more trouble than it’s worth.” There’s a pause, then a sigh crackles over the phone. “You still haven’t explained what happened. As far as I can see, you were doing good work there.”

Yeah, you think sourly, because all you see is the paperwork end of it.

“... Internal conflict.” You mutter, playing with the fraying edge of your sweater sleeve. 

There’s a long pause, protracted enough that it makes you squirm. You know what she’s thinking – in your line of work, it’s impossible to avoid clashing with some of the big dominant personalities who are used to getting away with whatever they want. But you’ve always been able to handle it, well-versed enough in diplomacy to know when to stand your ground and when to bow out to avoid unnecessary strife. 

“Internal conflict.” Laswell repeats, her voice as bland as you’ve ever heard it. “Meaning?”

God, it feels like you’re disappointing your mom or something. You scrub a hand over your face, pacing in the living room of your small apartment.

“I know how it sounds,” You say, “But– they don’t want to work with me. There’s only so much I can do if I’m being met with resistance at every corner–”

“You’ve worked with resistant squads before,” Laswell interrupts. “It’s part of the job.”

“Yes, but…” You start, before trailing off. 

She has a point, of course. It is part of the job. There’s no way to professionally explain to your superior that the reason this assignment is so difficult is because you have a mortifying crush on the Captain of the Task Force. It’s making you stupid, making all the stupid bullshit that you’re usually able to look past feel so much worse, especially because all you’ve ever wanted was Price’s approval.

Another sigh. This one, at least, sounds a little more sympathetic.

“Look,” Laswell says, and this time her voice is a little gentler. “I’ve never given you an assignment that I didn’t think you could handle. Whatever is going on, you need to sort it. You’re a capable girl, and the One Four One is far from the most difficult team you’ve had to deal with. There might be some big personalities there, but nothing that you shouldn’t be able to tackle.”

“Mhm.” You grunt noncommittally.

“Sort out whatever’s going on with you.” Laswell’s tone leaves no room for argument, her suggestion falling just short of a command. “If whatever issues you’re experiencing continue, I’ll talk to John–”

“No!” You blurt.

God, you can’t think of anything worse. You’ve already made a show of yourself in front of him, the last thing you need is for him to learn that you’ve gone crying to Laswell about the whole thing. You don’t want him to think of you as any more of a useless little girl than he doubtlessly already does.

“No,” You repeat, calmer this time as you clear your throat. “I’ll… sort it. Sorry to bother you with this, ma’am.”

Laswell hums, and you can imagine her eyes narrowing. Judging by the wind whistling in the background of the call, she’s not anywhere near her cushy office. You’ve interrupted her on whatever assignment she’s on, and she’s been kind enough to listen to your silly little complaints for at least fifteen minutes of her valuable time. You feel more ridiculous than ever, and you pinch at the bridge of your nose.

“... Right.” She says. “Fine. Keep me updated on the situation. I want a sitrep by the end of the week, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

You understand what’s not being said. Laswell expects you to work your own shit out, but you can hear the concern in her voice when she demands an update. All you can do is agree. Laswell has been by your side throughout your whole career, always having a hand in your assignments and your progression, and she’s always been an advocate for you and what you’re capable of. Now, after this conversation, you feel silly for getting so overwhelmed in the face of what is a relatively minor obstacle.

“Good. I’ll speak to you then.”

You hum, wish her goodbye and good luck, and hang up the phone.

For a long moment afterwards, you sit in silence in your living room. God, how did all of this spiral into such a mess?

For the last few days, you’ve been avoiding the base entirely. You have a few PTO days built up, and you’ve taken the opportunity to just chill out. It’s the first chance you’ve had to relax properly in months, since you had started working with the task force. The space is good, and it’s needed.

You get out of the headspace of work, and reports, and files and requisitions and debriefs, and instead treat yourself with full body self-care. You exfoliate, you moisturise, you use a hair mask, you take bubble baths. You even catch up on the trashy Netflix romance series that you had put on hold for ages, just waiting for some free time to indulge.

And you almost, almost, forget about why you’re hiding away in your little flat in the first place.

But your third day off creeps around, and you can’t help but feel as though your little bubble of isolation is about to pop. There’s only so much time away from the office that you’re able to swing, and the longer away the more you feel that your position on the team is untenable. No matter how you currently feel about the task force and your place with them, you’re not willing to let your hard work go down the drain just because you’re too cowardly to face them again after your little meltdown.

So, you go back to work after your little break away.

You manage to slink into your office mostly unseen, other than polite hello’s from other admin staff as you slip through the halls. Your office is far from prime real estate when it comes to office space on base – it’s well out of the way, down several corridors that no one ever goes down, and once you get past the main thoroughfares you don’t come across anyone. Even still, it feels a little like you’re doing a walk of shame, but you walk with your head held high before you finally get your office door closed behind you. 

To your surprise, your desk is clear. Typically, any slight break away from your desk results in work piling up on it, just waiting for your attention once you get back. You don’t know what to make of the absence of work; you can’t help but wonder, somewhat uncomfortably, if Price had taken your words to heart and dealt with all of the paperwork himself.

You check the drawers of your desk too, just in case, and come up empty yet again. 

Well. Okay, then. 

You sign into your desktop, waiting for the encryption program to load before accessing your emails. There’s a lot to catch up on, so you spend the next hour or so organising your to-do list in order of urgency.

You get lost in making your little lists, allowing yourself to relax into finding order in your schedule. You barely even look up until there’s a soft knock on your office door, and by the time you’ve raised your head the door has opened and Farah has slipped inside.

“Oh,” You straighten up in surprise. “Commander. What can I do for you?”

It’s a surprise to see her, especially since you hadn’t received any email correspondence. Your office is tucked away down a remote corridor, and soldier’s usually prefer to just email you their requests rather than make the trek down.

Farah offers a polite smile, approaching your desk. “I hear you are taking photographs.”

Your smile slips a little. “Oh. No, actually, I wasn’t–”

“Captain Price said I was to be photographed,” She says, pulling the chair out opposite you and watching you expectantly. “I tried to find you yesterday, and the day before, but I believe you weren't on base.”

You shift, feeling abruptly rather awkward. “Right. I was– Price said that to you?”

“Mhm.” Farah leans back in the chair, her dark eyes alert as they track over your face. “He said that you have been stressed.”

You feel your face heat, mortified. Oh, god. How embarrassing. Has Price given the team a goddamn debrief on your little meltdown? Farah tilts her head as though she knows what you’re thinking, and a tiny smile quirks at the corner of her lips.

“That’s all he said,” She says. “That, and that we should try to make your job a little easier.”

“Oh.” You shift, embarrassed and awkward. “I– Listen, I had a… rough day at work a few days ago, that’s all. I’m not– things are fine.”

Farah just nods as though that’s perfectly convincing, and you find yourself wildly appreciative of her for a moment.

“So, then,” She says, and raises her eyebrows. “The picture?”

You can’t find a way to explain that you had thrown that particular responsibility right back at Price in a fit of pique, but it turns out you don’t have to. Farah produces a slim folder that you hadn’t noticed her holding, and you realise with another flush of embarrassment that it’s her personnel file.

“There wasn’t much to update, just a recent blood work test.” She says as she lays it on your desk. 

“That’s… thanks.” You say weakly, taking the file in hand. You flick through it briefly, feeling something in your stomach squirm at the sight of Farah’s details all filled in – Price’s handwriting is unmistakable, the small neat blocky letters standing out amongst the messy scrawl of Farah’s medical report.

You dig out your camera, still a little flustered, and direct Farah to stand against your plain white-painted wall. She’s an easy subject to photograph; she stands perfectly still, unsmiling, and you get the perfect picture after only a couple of attempts.

“Lovely,” You murmur, flicking through the pictures. “Thank you.”

Farah hums. You’re expecting her to dismiss herself, and it takes a moment for you to realise that she’s still lingering. You glance up, blinking, only to find that she’s standing with her lips pursed, obviously considering something.

“The Captain is worried about you.” She says, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Is everything alright?”

You gape at her like a moron, camera still hanging loosely from your hands. You feel uncomfortably seen; there’s no way that Farah could know what happened, but she’s looking at you with an awful lot of sympathy right now.

“What?” You squeak.

“You fought?” Farah speaks slowly, obviously conscious of overstepping her boundaries. “I don’t mean to pry, it’s just…”

“No, that’s okay.” You say hastily. “We didn’t– there was no fighting, exactly.”

She just nods, as if you’re making perfect sense, then smiles politely. She gathers herself up and steps towards the door, and you feel your head spinning as she turns to go. 

“You look tired,” Farah murmurs, low enough that you almost miss it. “When Price wants to fix things, let him.”

“Mhm.” You nod quickly without really hearing her. You’re pretty sure you’d agree to anything right now just to escape the knowing intensity of Farah’s gaze. “Yeah, of course.”

After Farah leaves, you feel like you need another day off. It’s all you can do to just sit in your comfortably padded office chair and groan like a moron, because Jesus Christ you’ve made such a mess of things. 

It was bad enough when you were pining like an idiot from afar; you’ve had crushes before, and you know that you would have outgrown it eventually. But then you had your stupid little meltdown in front of Price, and revealed more than you intended, and all of a sudden you’ve made yourself into a fool in front of the squad you’ve tried so hard to impress these last few months.

You have to try hard not to spiral. In fact, it’s a challenge not to cave and grab your phone to call Laswell all over again to demand a reassignment right this second. You have a pretty good idea of what she’d say to you in response, but still, the impulse remains.

All you can do is put it from your mind. You potter about, printing Farah’s photograph so you can tuck it neatly into her file with a paperclip, and then decide to start replying to the many emails that have built up in your absence.

The emails vary in tone, from polite enquiries to not-so-polite demands for you to solve some administrative issues, and you sigh quietly as you respond to some of the more snotty messages from upper management. And if you’re a little bit passive aggressive, then you don’t think anyone can blame you.

Your mind has finally quietened, focusing on your work as the buzz of your thoughts settle down, when another knock sounds out from your door. This one is firmer than Farah’s soft knock from earlier, and a little louder, though this time you don’t look up from your screen.

“Come in.” You call, chewing at your lip as you struggle to keep the wording of your email civil.

You’re half-expecting it to be Soap this time around, or maybe one of the recruits hoping to get you to sign off on their leave. So when you finally glance up only to catch sight of the broad, thick-shouldered figure of Captain Price stepping into your office, you think you might go into cardiac arrest.

Email abandoned, you half jolt to your feet before changing your mind mid-movement and attempting to sit back down. It ends up being a humiliating sort of jerky motion, and you pray that he somehow missed it entirely.

“Captain.” You wheeze, your voice coming out a little weak.

Price’s cool blue eyes dart over your face and then down the length of your body, and you become suddenly, mortifyingly aware of the state you’re in. You might not want to admit it, but your wardrobe definitely changes when the Captain isn’t on deployment. Instead of professional trousers, you wear your tight knee-length pencil skirts and fitted shirts, and totter around in your heels. And it’s silly, but… well, you can’t help but notice the way Price’s eyes follow you when you dress like that, and you like his attention on you.

Except today, you hadn’t been planning on running into Price. You hadn’t planned on seeing anyone, so you had dressed for comfort — you’re wearing a pair of frumpy grey wool trousers and a super over-sized soft purple sweater that practically swallows you whole. You haven’t even done your hair nicely, and you curse yourself. This has to be the least sexy you’ve looked in months.

“D’you’ve a moment, love?” 

His voice seems loud in the quiet of your office, even though realistically you know he’s only speaking in a murmur. In the quiet days you’ve spent alone in your apartment, you’d almost forgotten how lovely and low and gruff his voice is, and you feel your toes curl in your shoes at the sound of it.

It’s not as though you can refuse him, though you’re already embarrassingly aware of the way in which you had stormed off the last time you had seen him.

“Yeah.” You swallow thickly in an attempt to strengthen your voice, but it still comes out high and thready. “Sure.”

As if he had just been waiting for permission, Price steps into the room properly and closes the door behind him. All of a sudden, the room feels a little claustrophobic. Price is a big man, broad-shouldered and thickly built with a soft layer of fat cushioning those hard muscles, and you can’t help but feel as though his presence is sucking all of the air out of the room.

But still, he approaches slowly, like you’re some kind of feral cat. Those sharp eyes of his are still tracking over you; he never misses a beat, and you know that he’s taking stock of you in the same way he would for an enemy out on the field. You feel raw, uncomfortably vulnerable. You find yourself wishing wildly and ridiculously that you had worn your usual fitted shirt and pencil skirt, or at least put on a bit of makeup.

“You look rested.” He notes, coming to a slow stop just in front of your desk.

You suddenly curse your last minute choice to stay seated, because now Price’s big body is towering over you in a way that’s honestly making your head swim a little.

“Yeah.” Your voice is a little hoarse. “I guess.”

Price nods, inhales through his nose. A moment passes before he clears his throat and reaches out to place a handful of files on your desk. Despite the plain manila envelopes, you recognise them for what they are almost immediately; the personnel files for 141.

“Finished ‘em off for you while you were gone.” He says gruffly, as though it were no big deal. “Nearly had to nail Soap down to a chair for that damn photo.”

You stare at the files for a long moment, making no move to open them. You find yourself totally, utterly lost for words. 

“This is–” You start to say, and truthfully you’re not sure where you’re going with that. You think you’re about to thank him, but he doesn’t really give you the chance to.

“Why don’t we talk?” He says, and motions to the dinky little couch in the corner of the room as if he owns it.

You hesitate a moment, a little peeved about the effortless way he takes command in your own office, but relent and push yourself up from the desk. You don’t make eye contact with Price as you step around him, walking to the corner, but you can feel his eyes on you all the same.

 The couch had come with the office, and you don’t even really want to think about how old it is, but you sink down awkwardly onto it anyway. The cushions are worn and threadbare and the springs creak gratingly when you settle your weight onto it, but it’s fine. It does the job.

You’re half-expecting Price to drag the spare chair at your desk over so he can sit opposite you – you’re not expecting him to step right up next to you before he drops down next to you, sighing as his thick thighs spread wide.

You barely bite back a squeak, a little bewildered. You’re not surprised that he’s asked to talk to you. Your behaviour had been wildly inappropriate, and you couldn’t exactly protest if he’s decided to caution you or something.

But you had expected it to be a more formal affair; sitting together on the pathetic, dingy little couch in your office feels entirely too casual for the dressing down you’re sure you’re about to receive.

“Think we’re due a discussion about the other day.” He says, gentler than you had been expecting.

You avoid his eyes, though you can feel his stare boring into the side of your face. Ugh. Time to eat humble pie, you think miserably. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” You keep your voice as dispassionate and prim as possible. “My behaviour was unprofessional and entirely unacceptable, and I have no excuse. It won’t happen again, I assure you.”

It’s as professional an apology as you can manage, and you chance a quick side glance at him to see his reaction. Your stomach sinks when you see that his brow is creased in a frown, and you panic a little at the realisation that your apology hasn’t helped matters at all.

“Well,” His voice is gruff enough to elicit a little shiver from you. “I wasn’t–” He clears his throat. “I wasn’t looking for an apology.”

That finally makes you turn properly, your eyes darting nervously over his face. He’s already watching you, his blue eyes searing under the brim of his stupid hat. He’s trimmed his beard since the last time you saw him; the salt and pepper bristles of his moustache and chops are neat and shortened. He looks good, though you try not to notice. He doesn’t look as dehydrated or drained as he did a few days ago either, though he still leans into the couch with an air of quiet exhaustion.

“Paperwork has never been my favourite thing in the world,” He confesses with an air of chagrin that’s painfully endearing to you. “Always found it a pain, to be honest. Puts me right out of sorts. I was… short with you, the other day.”

You frown, making yourself small on the couch. “You said I wasn’t necessary.”

Price winces, then reaches up and pulls his boonie hat off his head so that he can drag a hand over his short-cropped hair. Though you had insulted it only the other day, it strikes you as odd to see him with a bare head.

“Shouldn’t have said that.” He mumbles, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hat hang from his hands. “You’ve been great these last few months. Don’t know what I’d have done without you, sometimes.”

You’re stupid. It’s the only reason you can think of to explain the way blood rushes to your head and turns your face hot, your whole body going hot and prickly in response to his low praise. You fidget, glance away, and pray he doesn’t notice. 

“You know I’m no good at deskwork,” He says, and leans in a little closer like he thinks you’re not listening properly. “Don’t have the head for it. I think you’re the reason the team runs so smoothly in the first place, love.”

The flattery is being laid on a little too thick, but it works. You fall for it entirely, a warm glow settling over you like a blanket, wrapping around you tight and soothing the jagged edges of your anger and anxiety. You hate that you’re so easy to appease, a couple of sweet compliments and assurances falling from your Captain’s lips assuaging all that upset that you’ve been carrying around with you for days now.

But still, part of you isn’t quite willing to let go of the sting, the hurt that his words and his harsh tone had caused. 

“Is this you apologising, then?” You ask, watching him from the corner of your eye.

He smiles, close-mouthed. “Yeah. It is. Not doin’ too good, am I?”

“You’re doing okay.” You murmur, before deciding to try to be a bit cheeky. “But you can keep going, if you’d like.”

Price laughs, rich and warm and low. You don’t think you’ve ever actually heard him laugh in all the months you’ve been working with the task force, and the sound of it rumbles right into your bones, settling something inside of you and finally allowing you to relax. No longer tense with stress, you melt a little into the corner of the couch.

“Shouldn’t have snapped at you,” He says slowly. “You do good work. Great work. You shouldn’t feel like you’re not a valued member of the team.”

You swallow thickly. You feel too warm, your head swimming a little. His attention feels too heavy, heating your blood and going straight to your head.

“I overreacted,” You mumble reluctantly. “I shouldn’t… your hat isn’t stupid.”

That gets another bark of laughter out of Price, and he slaps a hand down onto your knee. The contact makes you jolt, eyes widening, but Price’s hand doesn’t shift. His palm is so large, spread across your thigh as his fingers curl over your knee. The touch feels almost scorching even through the thick fabric of your trousers.

All of a sudden, your tongue feels very thick in your mouth. The hand on your knee is not in any way suggestive; it’s chaste, innocent, just resting there like a reminder that he wants your attention on him (as if it could be anywhere else). But your nerves are jangling all of a sudden, every one of your senses straining towards him as you hold your breath.

“The hat isn’t the problem,” Price mutters, though you barely hear him. “I wanted to ask you about something else you said, love. Something you said about your father.”

That has some of the heat in your veins cooling, your eyes blowing wide. “I– what?”

To your bewilderment, Price’s cheeks have reddened beneath the whiskers of his beard and moustache. Despite his clear chagrin, he doesn’t break eye contact with you, his thick fingers squeezing cautiously around your knee. 

“Don’t mean to overstep,” He assures you quietly. “And– and don’t mind me if I’m talkin’ nonsense. But I know that you’ve been working so hard, and you’ve got a tough job. Can’t be easy. And I just wanted to say that if you'd like some… guidance – someone to steer you on the right path, that is– well, that I’m here if you ever want to talk."

Oh god. You feel your mouth go dry. 

It’s funny, because even though Price isn’t even yet forty, he’s always seemed so much older. Maybe it’s the weight of the responsibility that he carries on his shoulders, or the battle-hardened icy blue eyes, or the paternal sense of protectiveness that he shows over his team. He’s always been like an almost father figure for the squad, regardless of age; you’ve seen the way he’s so protective over Ghost, the way he claps Soap on the back or shoulders in praise to boost him up, the way he beams with pride when Farah excels, the way he always makes time to guide or give advice to Gaz.

It’s sweet. He’s always been sweet, so aware of the personalities on his team, even when he’s acting like that typical military authority figure. 

"Sounds like you want to be my daddy." You mean to say it in a derogatory fashion, laughing as though it's ridiculous, though when it comes out you can hear that it’s missing some of the sarcasm you had intended.

Price reacts instantly. He reels back, eyes widening, the pink in his cheeks flares into a deep red flush, and you see his chest heave as his breath catches. You hadn’t been expecting a reaction like this; Price looks as though the words have hit him like a physical slap.

“Jesus. That’s not–” He says, and the gravelly hoarseness in his voice is a shock. “That’s not what I meant.”

There’s a moment of charged silence. Fuck, what have you done? Why would you say that? Why would you say that, to the captain of your task force? Hadn’t you embarrassed yourself enough in front of him the day you had had your silly little meltdown? It’s like you just can’t keep your damn mouth shut around him, like your brain turns to mush the second he looks at you and you just lose the run of yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what– I didn’t mean it.”

The next silence is even worse than the last, tension humming between you like a live wire. He’s so close to you that his scent fills your nose – a blend of sweet cigar smoke, sharp gunpowder, and a heady masculine musk. You feel so fucking stupid, and more than a little panicked. You don’t think you could survive the humiliation of having to call Laswell and beg for a reassignment twice in one day just because you’ve completely humiliated yourself in front of the Captain again.

Price swallows, the sound painfully loud in the silence.

“Right.” He says slowly, before coughing roughly to clear his throat. “Mm. ‘Course. I didn’t mean to– perhaps I overstepped. Since you mentioned your father–”

“I don’t want to talk about my father.” You say swiftly.

God, you feel like your issues are out on display with a big damn spotlight. You feel so pathetic, so damn pitiful, as though your desperate need for approval and affection from an older male authority figure is written across your forehead.

But if your issues are on display, then so are Price’s, because you can’t help but notice that the vibrant red flush on his cheeks hasn’t faded. If anything, that deep flush has spread down his throat and over his chest; you can see how the skin that’s stretched over his pectoral muscles is glowing crimson beneath his shirt.

A niggling boldness begins to creep in, and you find yourself straightening on the couch. You turn, bring one of your legs up on the couch so that you can turn your whole body towards him, one of your elbows resting on the back cushion of the couch. 

Price’s eyes sharpen when your body turns towards him, and his body draws tense. Those cool blue eyes dart over you, and you’re surprised to see heat in them despite your oversized purple jumper and unflattering wool trousers. The whisper of his fatigues brushing against the fabric of your own trousers is both a distraction and an invitation, your thighs sliding surreptitiously against each other.

“What if I did mean it?” You blurt out before your courage can flee you.

Price goes so still it looks preternatural, even the breaths in his chest slowing. 

“Kid.” He says, and it sounds like a warning.

You don’t heed it, adjusting yourself so that you’re shuffling closer yet again. You don’t think you’ve ever been so close to him, his scent and his body and his heated gaze filling up your consciousness until he’s all that you’re aware of.

“What if I meant it?” You ask again, the whisper coming out low but charged. 

Price takes a breath that sounds like a groan, and it surprises you. You hadn’t expected that reaction; it sends a trickle of heated desire running down your spine, and you’re startled by how much you want him in this moment.

“D’you know what you’re asking for?” He asks, the gravel in his voice flooding wet heat between your legs. 

His carefully laced words linger in the space between you, daring you to accept, to shred the formal boundary that looms between the two of you. You get the sense that you’re walking a fine line here, that you’re getting close to the point of no return. 

“Yes.” You breathe, although you’re not entirely sure that you do know what you’re asking for. All you know is that he’s so close, and he’s staring at you with an expression of such hunger that it’s making you feel weak.

Price moves fast for such a big man, and all you can do is let out a soft sound of surprise when one of his big hands wraps around the back of your neck to pull you in. A deep, guttural sound escapes him when his lips crash into yours, his mouth demanding and greedy.

It feels like you go both lax and rigid simultaneously, before you positively light up. The hand that Price has wrapped around the back of your neck keeps you grounded, and before you can stop yourself you’re burrowing closer. It feels like the tension, your childish argument, the sexual friction – everything has culminated to this electrifying moment, where Price’s full lips are consuming yours, the hair of his beard rubbing over your cheeks and chin and keeping your nerves straining towards him.

The kiss doesn’t start out slow; it skips straight to hungry, fast and dirty, with Price’s big hands on your hip and the back of your neck, holding and guiding you. Overwhelming. 

Price’s big fucking body is leaning in, caging you against the couch. The wide shoulders and barrel-chested mass of him pressing you into the cushions is just short of breath-taking, but it’s not enough. You want to be right up against him, under his skin.

You swing your leg over Price’s, and climb up into his lap. His thighs are thick beneath you, wide and muscled, but you’re still hesitant to fully settle your weight against him. You just want to be closer, to feel the heat of him pressed against you, but the second you start moving Price grabs at your hips and pulls you down properly, uncaring of your weight.

“I’ve been–” You manage to say in between kisses, your words muffled and a little wet. “I’ve been working my ass off, for the squad, for you, and you never say or do anything–”

Price grunts, grappling with his sudden lapful of you. His eyes meet yours, and in them, you think you might see the spark of admiration, for your brave stupidity if nothing else. 

“Sh, I know,” He says as he grips at your hips under your oversized jumper, encouraging you to settle down your full weight on his thighs. “I know, love, you’ve been working so hard. What would I do without you, huh?”

And the thing is, you’re a very capable woman. You’ve had to be, in order to survive in your line of work. You know that you’re capable, you know that you do good work, you know that you help keep the wheels greased and everything moving behind the scenes for the 141, but even still, Price’s praise sinks into you like warm honey.

“Watching you walk around in those tight little skirts, Christ.” He hums, and his big palms land on your ass and squeeze there suggestively. “And those heels– completely impractical for a military base like this.”

You wheeze a laugh, clutching at his shoulders. It feels completely surreal that you’re currently perched in your Captain’s lap, with his big shovel-like hands groping your bum as he nips at your lips and confesses that he’s been watching you. It goes straight to your head, makes you dizzy, makes you wish wildly that you had worn one of those skirts for him today.

Oh, you could get used to this. Realistically you know the size difference between you two isn’t that immense, but Price is built like a man whose reality is all war, and when he shifts beneath you his muscles roll, unwittingly showing off his physique. You think you could stay here forever, feeling safe in a big man’s lap, cushioned by his body as he tells you that you’re valuable, and important.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Price groans, nipping at your lower lip before capturing your mouth wholly again. “You’re a handful.”

You’d love to argue that – you like to think that you’re perfectly measured and sensible, after all – but you’re already squirming in his lap, your legs spread wide over his thighs. Arousal pools in your stomach, makes you slick your knickers, and you can’t stop the slow grind your hips trace against his thigh.

Price’s breath shudders out of his chest, and his hands clench tight around your hips. “Hang on a sec,” He breathes, “Hold on. I’m still– I’m still your Captain–”

You think that it’s meant to be a warning, or at least a word of caution about the precarious situation you’re in regarding professionalism and inappropriate workplace relationships. What you’re doing right now is ridiculous, after all. You’re still on base, you’re in your office, and if the two of you get caught you don’t even want to think about the consequences. The fraternisation rule shouldn’t apply here, since you’re only considered part of the team by a mere technicality, but even in your lust-hazed mind you can still recognise that sitting on his lap and kissing like this at your workplace is wildly inappropriate.

But if it is a warning, it doesn’t work. The reminder of his authority only inflames you further, and a quiet whimper is torn from your throat when you rock against his lap.

He swears, and beneath you his cock stirs in his fatigues. You can feel the way it fills out where it’s pressed against the seam of your trousers, right between your legs. You reflexively squish your thighs together, tightening them around his hips.

“Christ,” He grits out like a curse. “Alright, then.”

He moves quickly, his hands secure on your back as he lunges forward, flipping you over so that you’re laying on your back on the shoddy, worn-down couch. You go so easily – 

you’re soft now, pliable and eager to please, and he could direct you anywhere he wanted.

He’s too large to be climbing on top of you on a couch like this, but somehow it doesn’t even matter. Now that he’s above you, holding himself up with those strong arms on either side of your head, he looks down on you with an expression that you don’t know what to make of. His eyes are still intense, but the lines around them are softened as he stares down, his gaze tracing your face. 

“You think I haven’t been looking?” He asks, and his voice isn’t as harsh or gritty as you’d been expecting. It’s softer now, fond, almost. “How could I fuckin’ miss you? Always so pretty, always workin’ so hard. ‘Course I noticed.”

When his fingers creep beneath your big purple jumper, you launch into helping him remove it, eagerly stripping it off so you’re laying in your bra. It’s one of your simple utilitarian ones, and you curse yourself for not wearing a sexier one.

But Price groans at the sight of your simple white cotton as though it’s premium lace. His palms are rough as they trace up your sides, the callouses on his fingers coarse against the soft squishy flesh of your belly. He leans forward and nuzzles at your ear, kissing behind your lobe before scraping his teeth along your jaw until he’s kissing messily at your mouth all over again.

“So gorgeous.” He says, his voice a low rumble that has your nerves buzzing. “I was too mean to you before, wasn’t I? Too harsh, when all you were trying to do was help.”

“Yes.” You whisper, though you feel a little bit petulant for it.

“Let me make up for it, darling,” He whispers back, and it sounds like a plea. “Hm? I’ll show you how good you’ve been.”

You’re nodding before he even finishes, desperate. God, yes. You’re not even sure what it is that he’s offering, but you know that you’ll take anything that he has to give you.

He’s looming over you, so large, as his hands fall to the closure on your work trousers. His fingers are so thick that he fumbles with the delicate button and little zip, and it takes him a couple of tries to pull it open and down. When he’s got it, he shucks your trousers off easily and tosses them aside, then stares down at you in your ugly shapeless underwear as though you’re wearing something else entirely.

Even though you’re laying unclothed and vulnerable, squirming and wanting, Price is so slow to get moving. He doesn’t grab at you, or grope greedily, or take impatiently. He acts as though he’s got all the time in the world, leisurely looking you over as though he’s committing you to memory.

“Need you to say it,” He says, strained like he’s trying to hold himself back. “Need you to say it out loud.”

“Want you to show me how good I’ve been.” You say immediately, your desire leaving no room for shame. “Want you to look after me.”

The request comes out a little bit plaintive, and Price sighs out before ducking his head and kissing you again. He’s so much more affectionate than you had ever imagined, and you feel as though you’re drowning in it. His attention is like a warm blanket, settling every craving you’ve ever had.

“I will,” He breathes like it’s a promise. “Oh, I will.”

His palms are rough and hot as they drag over your skin, deceptively gentle as he reaches your tits and pushes your bra up so that he can knead at the soft flesh there. He doesn’t even bother to unclasp it, impatient enough that shoving the cups up so to free your breasts is enough for him. 

He bends his head down, and licks a stripe over your nipple. His tongue feels scorching against you, like you’re hypersensitive to his touch, and he groans against your skin as though he’s tasting something incredible.

You writhe, hips arching up in search of some kind of friction, but Price doesn’t give it to you. He’s too distracted, peppering dozens of kisses over your tits as though they’re something precious even as his hands coast down your back to grope at your ass again where your plain cotton underwear is riding up.

“So pretty, ain’tcha?” He groans against your chest. “Fuck, even when you were walkin’ around with a face on you like a slapped arse, I thought you were the sweetest fuckin’ thing I’d ever seen.”

“Charming.” You snap, but there’s no anger in your tone anymore. In fact, you don’t think there’s a lick of anger anywhere in your whole body anymore, like Price’s hands and mouth on you have washed it all away.

All the brattiness, and the prickliness of your bad mood, is entirely forgotten now that you’re laid out and squirming beneath him. You can hardly even remember what you had been so stressed and angry with him for.

He finally reaches around to unclasp your bra, then tosses it to the side to let it slump sadly to the floor. His next target is your underwear, pulled from you roughly enough that you think the fabric might tear even as his hands cradle the plush flesh of your ass like it’s a treasure.

“Mm, so gorgeous, princess,” It seems like the name just slips out of his mouth, and you feel your whole body draw tense and hot. “So lovely, and I bet you taste even better than you look… like sugar, my sweet girl.”

Jesus Christ. You think your whole fucking body throbs, blood pounding and nerves straining as you wish so desperately for him to touch you. You can’t handle him talking to you like that, so fondly, as if you haven’t just acted like the biggest brat in the world for several days straight.

You can hardly even reconcile this man with the usual stern, gruff man that acts as your Captain, and you let out a choked whine of bewilderment as he slides down your body.

Your thighs are clamped together, shy under his gaze despite how desperately eager you are. You want this, you want him, but you can’t help but feel so mortified by the vulnerability of being nude beneath him on the couch while his big formidable body is still entirely clothed.

Price’s fingers stroke against your hip, his tone low and rich as his lips find your throat again. You can feel his tongue darting out against your skin, his hunger so palpable now that it’s infectious.

“Let daddy see you,” He croaks against the hollow of your throat. “Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

It’s not like you could ever say no to that. The request sends liquid heat shooting straight to your cunt, making you hot and sticky. You spread your thighs, and feel embarrassment flare when there’s a squelch as your cunt unsticks. And– Jesus, Price’s eyes fucking light up, and you realise that he’s clocked your reaction to his honeyed words, the way he calls himself daddy.

The kiss he gives you is claiming and hungry, consuming your lips with a fervour that leaves no room for doubt about his intentions. It’s a taste of both command and reverence — in equal measure. When he pulls away from your mouth you’re breathless, still gasping softly even as he pushes himself down the length of your body.

In the blink of an eye, he’s there — between your welcoming thighs, his hands resting securely on your soft hips, as much a lifeline as a promise of what’s to come. Your pussy is already sloppy, slick and wet in anticipation of him. He shoves his head between your thighs, using his thumbs to spread apart your folds and just look at you.

Your back arches at even the suggestion of his touch, feeling his breath ghost over the heated slick flesh of your cunt. Despite your obvious willingness, and his apparent eagerness, he doesn’t immediately touch you.

You crane your neck to see that he’s staring at your pussy as though the sight of it is earth-shattering. His gaze drinks you in, heated blue eyes taking in the sight of your swollen sticky folds, no doubt throbbing invitingly under his attention. You’ve never seen a man look so hungry, like he’s about to risk anything for it. A dark, groaned "fuck" escapes him as he kneels between your spread legs, head bowed as if in reverence.

"Daddy needs a taste, sweet girl," His deep voice a heavy rumble, vibrating against your soft inner thighs. 

It takes a beat for you to realise that he’s holding himself back, that he’s essentially asking for permission to lay his mouth on you, but then you gasp, “Yes, fuck, yes, please–”

Price takes it as the enthusiastic invitation that it is and bursts into movement immediately, reaching out and guiding your legs wider so that he can muscle in between them properly, before leaning in and finally getting his mouth on you.

You choke, hips aching as you try to spread your legs even further. Price drags the flat of his tongue along the seam of your cunt, groaning as though he’s savouring the taste of you, before wrapping his arms around your thighs to keep you all spread open for him as his tongue rasps over your sensitive flesh.

You want to call out for him, but his name stalls on your tongue. What would you call him – Price? John? Captain? Daddy? You think you would die if you said it out loud.

Then his tongue finds your clit, and your thoughts scatter. He flicks the tip of his tongue over you, back and forth, then flattens it to grind eagerly. You had thought, given the way he had taken that moment just to look at you before he’d pressed his mouth to you, that he would start slow. But instead, he gives you everything he has.

You cry out as he devours your cunt, his bushy eyebrows pulling up in delight as you give him your first moan. While your legs had spread wide in the beginning, eager to let him in, you now close them tight around his head to keep him in place. You have a brief, hazy thought that maybe this is an asshole move of you, a little like if a man were to hold your head down while you were sucking cock, but Price doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, judging by the snarl he lets out when your thighs close around his ears, he likes it.

You toss your head back against the worn couch cushions as jolts of white-hot heat spread from where his mouth is working at you, playing with you, tongue painting long, broad strokes up and down your pussy. 

Your cunt is syrupy hot, throbbing as his tongue rubs relentlessly at your clit. You’re so fucking wet, and you can’t help yourself from rolling your hips more assertively into his mouth. You’re leaking on his mouth, his tongue, your slick drenching his cheeks and his beard.

Seized by a sudden urge to watch, you clumsily raise your head so you can look down. It feels entirely illicit, watching Price’s head between your legs as he buries his face so enthusiastically into your folds. His eyes flash as he glances up, the bottom half of his face hidden entirely in your pussy as his jaw works, the soft hair of his beard tickling your sensitive inner thighs.

With a jolt, you realise that one of his hands has fallen to his lap, his trousers hastily pushed open. He’s fisting at his dripping cock, red and angry and still begging for release against the thick dark hair of his stomach. Sticky pre-cum leaks from his flushed head, pooling into his skin and clothes as his cock bobs and twitches at the sounds of your moans.

The sudden realisation that Price is getting off on this, on the taste of you and the smell of you and the way you’re whining, sets you aflame. He grunts, one of his big hand’s wrapping around his throbbing skin to pump his length to the rhythm of his tongue inside of you.

“Oh, oh fuck,” You press your lips together, stomach pulling tight as his tongue thrusts up inside of you, “Fuck, fuck, fuck that’s so good, oh god, Captain–”

“Yeah,” Price grunts, his words all wetly muffled, his arms wrapped tight around your thighs to keep you in place as he feasts on you, sucking on your clit like it’s a sweet. “I know, baby, I know.”

He’s so accommodating, so nice to you. You tilt your hips up and grind your cunt into his mouth, sighing in satisfaction as his tongue drags along your clit before dipping to lick inside of you. He barely even shifts when you hump your pussy into his face; he only opens his mouth wider, licks at you more enthusiastically as though your desperation is contagious. 

Your belly goes hot and tight, and a high-pitched whimper is torn from your throat. It feels as though you’ve been strung high and taut for months now, and your breath catches at your imminent orgasm. You’ve just been so stressed, and having Price hunched over you on the couch like this with your legs thrown up around his shoulders as he licks and sucks at you so eagerly that it has your eyes rolling in your head feels like it’s curing you.

You think, somewhat madly, that an orgasm like this, with Price’s mouth sealed over your cunt, will solve every damn problem you have right now.

“Wanna come, wanna come, Jesus fucking Christ, please please–” Your chest heaves as you scramble, one of your hands reaching down to cup Price’s head to keep him in place, face buried in your cunt. “Oh god, please make me come–”

Maybe it’s not fair to be so demanding of him, but to his credit Price responds with restless enthusiasm. You double over in pleasure as he heeds your broken little pleas, your nails scraping into the couch as you cling on for dear life. His tongue swirls over your clit quickly and with fervour, tight circles to make your vision go blurry.

You’re lost in the sensation of his hot, wet mouth in your cunt, the way he licks into you like a starving man tasting his first meal. It feels like a sensation overload, as though you’re just completely lost to your own desire, but you just want more of what he is offering. 

You grab his hair again and pull him closer, greedy with need, and he hums in affirmation as he allows you to guide his mouth to exactly where you need it. Arching your hips up, you grind into his mouth, chasing your orgasm. You groan, eyelids fluttering as you wrap your other leg around Price’s shoulders, up around his neck, and his hand snakes around your thigh to anchor you there.

Price’s fingers are gripping at your hips, surely hard enough to leave bruises there. You smile, almost deliriously; you could live with some souvenirs from tonight.

Your feeble gasps start to spiral into whimpers as that hot coil begins to tighten in your belly, and your toes start to curl. When your climax finally hits, it does so with a sense of relief that almost knocks you flat. Your body winds tight then releases, and you convulse in a wave of shudders that has you sobbing out loud.

Your chest heaves as you sob, squirming as Price licks at your clit insistently. It feels like your breath has caught in your chest, your toes curling so hard that your feet cramp. You’re panting like a damn dog as your orgasm rocks through you, until the waves of it subside and you can finally get a full breath again.

From one second to the next your nerves turn red-hot and oversensitive, and you clamp your thighs shut around Price’s ears and whimper-whine pathetically. Mercifully, he gets your unspoken message easily, and finally pulls back, chuckling breathlessly to himself as he pushes your legs apart in order to retreat.

“Fuck,” He says, and his voice comes out as harsh and gravelly as you’ve ever heard it. “Jesus Christ. Knew you’d taste sweet, knew that you’d come so pretty.”

The praise practically slams into you, ripping through you like a forest fire. It feels like you’ve lost your breath all over again, and ridiculously you suddenly feel shy. 

“I–That–” You start to say, but you still feel a little fuzzy-headed from your orgasm and your thoughts fizz away like TV static. 

“Mhm, I know, sweet girl.” He murmurs hoarsely as though you had said something coherent. 

When Price finally sits up, you blink hazily. He had been all hunched over you, crammed into the corner of the couch in order to squeeze himself between your thighs like that, but now that he’s straightening back up again you’re reminded with a tired jolt just how big and broad and strong he is.

A small, self-conscious part of your brain screams at you to close your legs. Your thighs are still spread wide, your cunt on display; you’re still all sloppy and wet, spit-slick and dripping, all puffy from the attention Price had lavished on you with his mouth.

But instead of closing your legs, you let your thighs fall open a little wider and shift restlessly under his intense gaze. Your desire makes you stupid – how could you ever experience anything as mundane as self-consciousness when he’s staring at you like that? He’s looking at you like he wants to fall atop you all over again, and you feel yourself throb – you feel so empty, your body craving something to fill you.

And Price notices the way you keep yourself all spread for him, the way you don’t make any move to cover yourself. Beneath his beard, his face splits into a wide smile, the apples of his cheeks practically glowing with pride.

“Oh, my girl, you're so pretty. Just the loveliest girl in the world with your beautiful face and your hair all wild like that.” He leans in then, and presses a hungry  kiss to your mouth. He tastes salty-sweet, the iron tang of yourself lingering on his lips. His beard is wet too, practically soaked through.

You gasp when he pulls back, overwhelmed by the kiss and the praise and the electric aftershocks of your orgasm. “Your beard is wet.” You observe dumbly.

He chuckles, as though you’ve said something terribly endearing. “Of course it is, sweetheart. That’s all you.”

You mumble a little incoherently, mostly because you’ve just spotted the way his trousers are still unbuttoned and his hard, swollen cock is jutting out from the band of his boxers. It’s angry looking, the head of it so red it looks a little painful, and you feel a sudden urge to return the favour seize you.

But when you reach out, Price is quick to grab your wrist. He transfers his grip to your hand swiftly so you don’t feel as though you’re being held down, his wide palm and thick fingers winding around yours.

“Don’t have to do that, love.” He grunts, shifting. He’s looming over you, hips tilted towards you and his wide shoulders blocking out your view of the office. “D’you think you could take me?”

It takes you a moment for your slow, stupid brain to catch up and process what he’s asking you. Then you nod swiftly, eyes widening. You're wet and sticky and so so empty, and you have no doubt your body is so ready to take him inside. 

You’re still a little limp and drained from the satisfaction of your orgasm, but you keep your thighs spread and wait eagerly for him to touch you again. He doesn’t keep you waiting long; he coos softly at you as he adjusts himself, kissing your tummy then up your sternum and back to your throat. The soft, sweet kisses distract you as he presses his hips between your thighs.

You gasp softly, your clit sensitive enough that when his cock rubs against it, you jolt. Despite the overload of sensation, you find yourself grinding back against him, so desperate for something. As if he can sense what you need, he presses a kiss to your jaw and dips a hand between your thighs. Two thick, calloused fingers circle your clit for a moment and make you whimper, only to dip lower and press inside you.

His fingers are larger than yours, but they still slip into you so damn easily that it’s embarrassing. You barely even feel a stretch, your body so eager for him that your cunt practically sucks his fingers up.

The worst part is the way Price laughs, all soft and breathy as he rubs his callous-roughened fingers into the spongey walls of your cunt. 

“Oh, fuck,” He murmurs, his lips dragging over your overheated skin. “Yeah, you’ll take me just fine.”

You burn with embarrassment, but you still don’t close your legs. It’s silly, but there’s still an element of pride as his fingers rub against the soft inside of your pussy; you want him to see how much you want him, how well you’ll take him. It’s obvious how wet you are, and you hope he’s imagining how good you’ll feel on the inside.

“Need you to turn over for me, love.” He murmurs, gripping at your hips and easing you over so that you’re on your belly beneath him. “That’s it, arse up. My knees aren’t what they used to be. Make it easy for me.”

You usually would make a joke about that, some sort of jab about being old before his time, but you simply don’t have the mental capacity for it. You’re too busy dropping to rest your weight on your elbows as you stick your ass up towards him, arching your back and hoping you look pretty.

He doesn’t waste any more time, much to your relief. Your mouth drops open with a sigh as you feel the blunt head of his cock glide between your slick folds, tapping once against your clit just to watch the way your legs jerk, then finally lining up with your entrance and pressing lightly in. His cock notches, catches, then slides in so slowly that it makes you want to scream.

“Gotta let me in, petal.” He says, using his grip on your hips to pull you back onto his cock in increments. “Relax, relax.”

You had wanted this, you’re more eager than you think you’ve ever been for anyone in your life, and yet Price is a big man and the stretch makes your breath stall in your lungs. Your cunt is sucking his cock in further with a hunger that’s almost embarrassing, even as you wince a little at the feeling of being stretched out to your limits. Though you’re wet and eager and ready, two of Price’s fingers briefly testing inside weren’t quite enough to prepare you for how fat his cock is. 

Your head is spinning. You’ve never taken a cock this big with so little stretching, but neither you nor Price are patient enough to wait. But the stretch feels good, and you find yourself wheezing like a moron as he presses inside inch by inch.

“Fuck… you alright, love?” Price breathes, adjusting his knees on the couch behind you and wrapping his hands around your hips. The motion only succeeds in shifting him far enough away to make you aware of the feeling of him sliding into you again. You both groan, and you feel Price twitch, deep inside you.

“Fuck,” You moan, breath gasping out of you. “You’re fucking huge.”

It feels like you’re learning for the very first time what it really means to be full. For a few seconds, it feels like you can’t even breathe. It feels like his cock is lodged somewhere in your belly, forcing the breath from your lungs as he nestles his way deeper into the eager clutch of your body.

“Am I– s’it too much, honey?” He asks, his voice rough and low as his hands squeeze at the flesh at your hips. “Need me to take it out?”

“No!” You blurt, and your body clenches up hard as though you’re trying to lock him in and keep him from escaping. “Don’t you dare!”

His cock still feels so big, and when you tighten up as hard as you do it almost feels as though he’s fucking impaling you. Price groans as though he’s been shot, and his head lowers so that he’s burying his face into the space between your shoulderblades. His body lowers too until his chest is pressed to your back, joined at the hips as he rocks inside of you. 

“Okay,” He grunts, and you can feel his chest expand as he takes a breath. “Okay, love, but you need to relax. You’re going to squeeze my cock right off.”

“Sorry.” You try to do as he asks, taking a deep breath and allowing your body to go limp and pliant. He grunts in appreciation, and you feel his whiskery beard rasp against your throat as he presses a kiss to your neck as if to reward you.

Your spine is still taut from the pressure of being all stretched out around his cock, and you reach back clumsily to grasp at his belly, the soft fabric of his shirt rucking up between your fingers. Price reaches back and grabs at the neck of his own shirt, tearing it over his head then tossing it aside. Your eyes are all hazy and a little blurred from your overwhelmed tears, but you look back over your shoulder and blink frantically in an attempt to get a proper look at him. 

God, he’s so big and strong, his chest furred with a layer of brown hair curling in whorls over his nipples and down over his belly. You feel yourself pulse in response, your mouth dropping open in a thoughtless gasp of desire. He’s exactly the kind of man you think of when you think of masculinity, and your belly tightens in anticipation when he presses all up against you, heavy and hot.

When he begins to pull out and press back in, the noise you make is utterly pathetic. It feels like he cleaving you in two, carving out a space for his cock every time he fucks back into you. He’s cautious at first, conscious of hurting you, but when your thighs close around his hips he grunts and begins to pick his pace up.

“Christ, you’re tight,” Price says, his voice all rough and muffled against your shoulder. “And you're all mine, love, my own sweet girl, ain’t that right? And daddy's gonna love you so good, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” You gasp stupidly, pressing your face into the couch cushions.

Typically, you find that doggy style can be a position that’s a little detached – usually, you like seeing the face of the person you’re fucking. But right now, with Price plastering his whole hairy body against your back as he ruts into you and the sweet filthy words he’s murmuring to you, this position feels so far from detached that it has your head spinning. It feels like he’s blanketing you, the heat from his skin igniting what feels like an inferno between the two of you. Sweat beads at your forehead, and you moan softly as Price begins to fuck you properly.

You’re bouncing against the couch, clutching at the cushions as your body moves under the weight of Price’s powerful thrusts. The sound of it is sloppy and wet, your bodies smacking together quick and hard. And fuck, it feels good. His cock is hitting that perfect spot deep inside of you, and your entire body jolts with pleasure every time he pounds back in. 

It’s enough to make you squeal, your nails scrabbling desperately for purchase on the threadbare couch cushions in an attempt to stabilise yourself. Your nipples are sensitive from Price’s licking at sucking at them, and your toes curl as your tits are pressed into the rough-textured cushions, electrifying your nerves to the point of almost too-much. 

The noises you make are entirely undignified, and you struggle to muffle them into the couch. Little burbling ah ah ah’s are being torn from your throat every time Price fucks into you, the sensation of his furred balls slapping against you with every thrust has your eyes rolling.

Your body is all loose and pliant from your earlier orgasm, and you whimper as though you’re being fucked absolutely stupid. It’s not that he’s fucking you all that hard, but he’s filling you up so deliciously and knowing that it’s him, your Captain, the man that you’ve worked so damn hard to impress and to please, makes you feel like you’re going to explode. Even through the haze of desire and pleasure, a little part of you is still so aware of making him happy. You keep your back arched, practically waving your ass up in the air as he fucks into you.

“Tell me how you like it, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.” Price says in a low, rough purr. His chest is still pressed to your back even as the two of you pant and sweat as you rock together. “Tell daddy how good he's making you feel.”

Jesus Christ, Price feels like a fucking furnace against you. It feels almost as though you’ve been glued together, your skin sweat slick as he ruts into you like an animal. Your lungs are burning, and your mind is completely scattered. Getting fucked like this feels feels primal, an exchange of power through pleasure; you’re aware that he’s asked you a question, but you can hardly string two thoughts together. All you can do is squirm and whimper in below him as his weight pins you in place.

“Good,” You groan, vaguely aware that tears are leaking from your eyes and soaking the couch beneath you. Your vision is blurred, and you can’t even see straight. “I just– it’s so much–”

“I know,” He rumbles. “But you can take it, can’t you? You’ve been so good, sweetheart.”

The praise does exactly what he’s hoping for; you practically melt into a puddle beneath him. Your thoughts are slow and sluggish, and your jaw hangs open as you fucking drool. Even still, you manage to nod your head clumsily. You can take him – it feels like a point of pride to prove it now, to show off how good you can be.

Price’s rhythm is practically machine-like, and you make a quiet sound of pure appreciation when his cock slams into that gummy spot inside of you that makes you lose your breath. It’s as though he takes note of it, because from that point on he stays absolutely jackhammering into that little spot, making you see stars and have to bite your lip to stifle your moans. His balls would slam against your clit in a repeated motion that made your underbelly tighten like a coil so close to snapping.

He groans every time he sinks into you, his growls rumbling into your back and ratcheting up the intensity another notch. You feel lost in a sea of sensation, moored only by the places of contact between you and Price. Your hips are humping back against Price’s cock unconsciously, unable to help yourself and unable to get enough of him.

“I wanna come again,” You say, and it comes out in a demanding sort of whine. It’s a little humbling to hear yourself and realise that you sound so honest to god bratty, but you can’t bring yourself to care when Price is apparently in such a giving mood today. 

“You’re gonna come, love.” He promises. His voice has that tone to it, the one you’ve always tried to ignore during work because it makes you so horny. The authoritative one, when it drops just a bit in pitch, when it sounds just a little like a threat.

But despite his promise, he doesn’t change his steady pace. You’re just this side of overwhelmed, but you still need more to push you over the edge into the second orgasm that’s simmering in your lower stomach. 

“Please, daddy,” You let the name pass your lips on a whimper, finally giving in and calling him by the title he’s so clearly craving. He’s fucked all the shame out of your body at this point, leaving you with nothing but white hot desperation. “Please, please make me come again–”

“Fuckin’ Christ–”

Price’s arm reaches around your front, and you’re startled when his big palm wraps around your throat. You think for a moment that you’re about to get choked, but no pressure follows. He just grips you there, gentle and secure, before using his hold on you to pull you back against him so that he’s rutting up into you at a speed that’s overwhelming in the best way. His other arm reaches around your belly so that he can rub at your clit as he rails you into the couch. His soft grip on your throat ensures that no matter how much you try to squirm your way back into meeting his thrusts, you’re forced into stillness. 

It’s exactly what you wanted, and it has you wheezing and hiccuping out moans on every stroke. It’s better than you ever could have hoped for, and you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer sensation of it all. You feel your abdomen drawing tight, heat beginning to build rapidly in the bottom of your belly as he strokes at your clit hard and fast at a pace that matches his fucking.

You know that you’re already starting to shake, trembling from head to toe. You can’t even keep your back arched anymore, though you don’t think Price gives a shit because he just nuzzles at the base of your shoulder as he fucks into you. Between his cock and his fingers, everything just feels too much but your body is strung taut as you proverbially climb higher and higher.

“Oh god, I’m– yes, yes, yes–” You chant, your voice high and reedy and so damn needy.

Then the world falls out from under you. With one last whimpering moan, your body convulses beneath the heavy weight of your captain’s big body. Your vision practically wipes out, and you squeeze down around Price’s dick and pulse. Your whole body rocks with the flood of pleasure, the warm fuzzy feeling that makes you feel as though you’re losing your mind. You know that your hips are twitching madly, simultaneously trying to get more and less as you get overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you through it all.

You’re still coming down from the sweet release of your orgasm when Price practically tears himself away from you, leaving you cruelly empty and clenching around nothing. You let out a sharp sound of loss, startled that he’s pulled away so suddenly, and you find yourself slumping bonelessly against the couch now that his hands are no longer supporting you.

The wet shlurping sounds from behind you prompt you to glance lazily over your shoulder from where your face is smushed against the cushions, and you’re blessed with the sight of Price tugging his cock furiously behind you. His cheeks are bright red as he stares at the mess he’s made of you, his jaw soft and his mouth open as he pants.

He sees you looking, and whatever expression is on your face seems to be his undoing. He takes in your tear-clumped eyelashes and your dazed expression, and you can practically see the moment he hurtles over the edge. He practically snarls, his nose scrunching in a way that’s unexpectedly adorable right as his cock gives one fat pump of thick white come, then several smaller sputterings that collect in a creamy puddle right at the base of your spine, just over the swell of your ass.

You sigh, your eyelids fluttering lazily shut as you relish the feeling of his hot come hitting your skin. You still can’t manage to pull yourself together, feeling loose and floaty like you’re on another fucking planet entirely. You’re only distantly aware of his big palm rubbing gentle circles on the small of his back; you think for a second that he’s just trying to soothe you, until your fucked out brain catches up and you realise that he’s rubbing his come into you like it’s goddamn lotion. Your cunt gives a tired throb at the realisation, fluttering as though it’s sad that he didn’t come inside.

“Fuck…” You hear him rumble from behind you, then a hot heavy weight settling over you yet again. This time, he pulls you back into his arms to hold you tight against his chest. 

You go perfectly limp, curling into him and nuzzling into his sweaty hairy chest. Despite yourself, you’re reminded of cuddling with a massive teddy bear. All you can do is hum, basking in the affection and hardly able to think at this point after he’s turned your brain into a slurry of feelings without thoughts.

“You okay, love?” Price asks. You can feel his nose nuzzling against your temple, though you can’t quite summon the energy to open your eyes again. “Did I go too hard on you?”

Your legs are still shaky, your hamstrings aching and your back throbbing a little from the pounding you’ve just taken. But Price is being so lovely and soft, so gentle with you right now. His hands coast over your hips, your back, your waist, squeezing a little bit just because he seems to like the way you feel in his hands.

“Shhh,” You drawl shakily. “Don’t make me think right now.”

A low chuckle, and you feel his broad chest rumble with it where your head is laying atop him. His fingers run up the length of your spine, the touch making you shiver. He touches you like you’re delicate, a stark contrast to the way he’d just fucked you into your sad little office couch. It makes something in your belly squirm.

“Alright. My girl just needed to switch off for a while, hm?” He murmurs, and you can hear the clear undertone of amusement in his voice. “How are you going to finish out work today if you’re all sleepy like this, huh?”

That wakes you up a little, and you finally blink your eyes open again in order to look up at him. An edge of panic is beginning to creep in as awareness comes back to you, and you take a deep breath as your hands curl against his chest.

“Oh my god.” You blurt, eyes growing wide. “I– we’re at work!”

“Sharp as ever, darling.”

Not even Price’s lazy wryness can distract you now. You try to wiggle off the couch, already craning your head around in search of your clothes, but Price’s thick arm locks tight around your middle and keeps you pressed to him.

“We have to– oh my god, we have to get dressed, what if someone walks in–”

“Shh, shhh, I locked the door when I came in,” Price grumbles. He doesn’t appear too impressed with the way you’re attempting to wiggle away, but it doesn’t matter so much; even with one arm he’s perfectly capable of keeping you pinned in place against his chest. “Lie back down, love.”

Slowly, you let yourself relax back into him. It’s hard to hold onto your panic when he’s so obviously unbothered, so you end up hesitantly snuggling back up against his chest as his arms come up to close around you. Despite his encouragement, you’re unsure whether or not you’re allowed to be touching him like this. But his hands don’t stray from you, not even once, and gradually you return to your previous state of being a puddle of limbs and pliant muscle.

“That’s it, relax.” He coaxes, clearly pleased now that you’re melting back into him. 

“I have so much work to catch up on.” You grumble, though you have no intention of actually going anywhere now that he’s given you the greenlight to stay like this.

His chest vibrates beneath your cheek, and you realise he’s chuckling again. It feels good, and you sigh softly as your fingers stroke lightly over the defined shape of his soft pecs.

“You think I wasn’t capable of keeping the ship afloat for the couple of days you were gone?” He asks, one hand stroking over your flank then dipping lower to flatten his palm over your left asscheek. “I finished out those little files you were stressin’ over. No picture of Ghost for his, but like I said, that’s standard.”

You had known that he had finished updating the files for you when you had seen Farah’s, but hearing it straight from his mouth is something else entirely. You purse your lips and lower your eyes, still embarrassed about your little freak out despite his apologies. 

“Thank you.” You mumble. 

You try to hide your face in his chest again, but a large hand on your jaw stops you by tilting your head back and forcing you to look at him. A thumb strokes over your cheek, and then he’s leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth. You respond tiredly but eagerly, still hardly able to believe that your boss that you’ve been mooning after for months is being so affectionate and intimate with you.

Price pulls back slightly so that your lips are just barely touching, breathing each other’s air for a moment.

“Ask for help when you need it, sweetheart.” He murmurs, his lips dragging over yours. “That’s what I’m here for. We help each other with the workload, alright?”

“Yeah,” You breathe, leaning in eagerly in the hopes of getting another kiss. “Alright.”

Price smiles, his cheeks going all full and round as his eyes crinkle, and you feel your heart throb so violently it feels as though it jumps right up into your throat. He leans in and kisses you again, soft and sweet as his beard rasps against your chin.

You want to stay like this forever, wrapped up so warm and cosy and safe in his arms. He makes you feel so safe, like you’re valued and appreciated, and you can’t even feel bad about being lazy because he so clearly doesn’t want to move either.

“Let me come home with you tonight,” He says suddenly, and you feel his bicep contract as he squeezes you closer. “You have an apartment off base, don’t you? I’ll… why don’t I cook you dinner, hm? Want to show you how much I appreciate all the work you do.”

There’s a pause, then he adds cautiously, “If I’m not being presumptuous, that is.”

You can’t stop the shy smile from overtaking your face. He’s so sweet, and being on the receiving end of this kind of attention from him is more than you ever could have expected. Ridiculously, he seems a little nervous as well, and you come to the slow realisation that he had been vulnerable with you as well when it came to his interests when he had fucked you.

“I thought this was you appreciating the work I do.” You say coyly, glancing pointedly at all of your bare skin pressed up against his.

“Mm. You do a lot of work, and I’m very appreciative.” Price murmurs, squeezing teasingly at your ass.

You giggle despite yourself, relishing the light-hearted air between the two of you. At the sound of your laugh, Price’s expression brightens further; it’s strange, seeing your usually stern, stressed captain being so sweet with you. You’re so used to seeing him with that flinty determined look in his eyes, or barking orders, or with his eyes sagging with exhaustion after a long deployment only to return to a pile of mission reports. Seeing him like this, with those soft eyes and a fond smile, makes your heart feel as though it’s beating out of rhythm.

“I said I’d look after you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, and this time his voice is missing that teasing undertone from before. He sounds so earnest now, almost painfully so. “You just need to let me.”

Yeah, you think to yourself as you let yourself succumb to the drowsy haze that’s been tugging at you, allowing your eyes to slide shut as you nuzzle into Price’s bare chest. You think letting John Price look after you might just be the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

[yeahlikethebird]

.

[beaft]

you have an isekai story? can i read it somewhere?

one day, i hope! i'm currently attempting to get it trad-published, but if i don't have any success i'll self-publish. i've only been avoiding the self-publishing route thus far because you have to do so much of your own marketing and i'm pants at that.

[picory]

i really need to rewatch uwe before the upcoming season finale and properly gather my thoughts on it but i really really like the show! its goofy and cartoony style paired with a serious story about these warriors' souls stuck in an eternal war with the evil, the slight psychological horror of being used as hosts for said souls and almost completely discarded and disregarded (though it doesn't say too much about this, this is more my overthinking), the steampunk elements, the character designs, the voice acting... all of it. despite that i still have some irks with it, like the pacing. this show would've definitely benefited from having more episodes. for such a story heavy show 10 episodes doesn't feel enough. it worked with primal, genndy tartakovsky's previous show, because there was little to no dialogue there. it did an excellent job at making the viewer understand what was happening with mere facial expressions. but uwe characters have a lot to say, a lot to work out between each other. and it's clear tartakovsky wants to tell more. they need more episodes to do that. i hope the show gets renewed for a second season. i need everything that i'm extremely confused about to be addressed and cleared up

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4242

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @lov3rla03 @simpin4pixels @nbanenefrmdao

4.

YASMINE It was nine in the morning as the birds were chirping, and sunlight was beaming through my curtains I and Jey were sleeping soundly while I was lying on top of his body while his hands were resting on my butt firmly underneath the warm blanket.

We were sleeping well until I heard my door open, which caused me to flutter my eyes open, squinting to see who was at my door. I saw that it was Bianca coming in, seeing me and him sleeping in the same bed together.

"Is y'all two like dating or something?" She whispered. I immediately shook my head while she snickered at me.

Feeling Jey shifting his position and pulling me down with him, which shocked Me, and Bianca gripping my butt tightly, making my body feel electricity when he did that.

"Please don't tell Montez about this...even though he knows, but don't tell me about this part." I whispered as she nodded her head before heading out.

Bianca shut the door as I gazed up at Jey, who was still sleeping soundly, mumbling something. Maybe he was having a bad dream right now, which is why he did what he did.

He slithered his hands inside of my shorts. It made me feel a little bit wet from him doing this, but I had to get up and get ready for work. Today, I do hair on the side because it's my favorite thing to do.

I tried to get up from his grasp, but he wouldn't move, "J-Josh...I gotta get up, c'mon." He groaned, not even hinting that he wanted to get up.

'I'm going to be late for work because of this man.'

I just lay there for a moment before trying again. I was playing in his mullet, watching him sleep. His features looked so beautiful that I couldn't help but admire him.

I grabbed his phone, which was next to him, and checked the time. I sighed deeply, knowing that I was going to be late, so I managed to escape his grip while standing up and walking quietly toward my bathroom.

I removed my clothing as I began my skincare routine before heading into the shower. While I was doing that, I heard my bedroom door opening. Montez was probably in there, and that's when I heard thumping on the floor.

'Do these two have to play fight in my bedroom?'

I heard them two going at it with each other playfully as I finished up my skincare routine. When I realized I hadn't brought my towel with me, I cursed under my breath. I slightly opened the door, seeing them two wrestling each other on the ground. That's when I cleared my throat, gaining their attention.

"What's up Minks?" Montez questioned me.

"I forgot my towel can one of yall bring it to me please?" I said, having the door slightly closed so that they wouldn't be scarred for life by my naked figure.

They both stared at each other figuring out who was going to bring me my towel 'I literally told these dickheads one of them can bring it, why do men have to be stupid.' That's when Jey got up from the floor and saw my pink towel that was hanging from my chair.

He walked towards me, holding my towel in his hands, smiling at me before heading towards Montez.

"Thank you Josh."

"You're welcome ma." Jey said, hearing the bathroom door shut.

✧˚° After eating breakfast with everyone, I managed to make it to work. I saw everyone getting their heads done, and then I went inside the break room to clock in for work.

I felt my phone buzz while I pulled it out from my pocket, seeing that Jey had texted me. I had three or four clients today for hair appointments, so today would be busy.

Joshua🤍 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua🤍: Hey, Mama I was seeing if you made it to work safe Joshua🤍: you're one hell of a cook girl is there anything you can't do? 😭

I smiled at his messages. He seemed so sweet and genuine, but I had to protect myself at all costs, and I really did want us to be friends first before anything happened. But I don't know. It's like every time I see him or even be around him, he always makes me nervous.

IMESSAGE 💬 Yasmine🩵: yes I made it to work safe Josh Joshua🤍: that's good mama so your brother calls you Minks? Huh? Yasmine🩵: yeah, it's a nickname he would call me growing up as a kid Joshua🤍: it's cute I should change yo' name in my phone to that. Yasmine🩵: it's your world Joshua do whatever Joshua🤍: whatever little girl Yasmine🩵: 🖕🏼🖕🏼

I'm tired of his ass calling me a little girl like a he's big dawg or something; one of my clients came in a bit late due to traffic. I told them that I wasn't trippin' and was very understanding with the whole traffic situation.

As I was washing their locs in the sink, I couldn't help but think about Jey and how gentle he is with me as a friend, of course. I honestly don't know if I'll be able to fall in love again after what happened to me.

But Jey is something different; different from the others. I just couldn't wrap my head around it. After washing their locs, I sat them down in the hairdryer so that their locs could dry. In the meantime, I was getting my loc gel and comb ready for them, along with texting Jey.

Yasmine🩵: what'chu doing? Joshua🤍: I'm at the gym working out right now Yasmine🩵: interesting 🤔 Joshua🤍: wym by that? you wanna see a pic or something? Yasmine🩵: nah nah i was just saying that's all I thought you would be chilling in the crib Joshua🤍: well I got a dark match tonight on smackdown so I have to be in good shape Yasmine🩵: a'ight a'ight Joshua🤍:

'This man is going to shoot me dead like woah.'

Yasmine🩵: okay period get them gains boy Joshua🤍: girl, yo' ass is funny for real Yasmine🩵: what can I say I'm the funniest person in the fam 🙂 Joshua🤍: don't you got a client to be focusing one right now ma'am? Yasmine🩵: yes but their hair is drying right now, and not too much don't be tryna clock me sir 🙄 Joshua🤍: you and that sassy ass attitude of yours Yasmine🩵: what'chu goin' to do about it?

'Where is this boldness coming from?'

Joshua🤍: fuck around and find out Minks 🙂 Yasmine🩵: you know what let me go finish my clients hair before I catch a case Joshua🤍: man, you ain't gonna do a damn thing little mama better watch yo' self Yasmine🩵: yap yap yap that's all I hear right now Josh and you aren't goin' do shit either so that makes the two of us. 😀💁🏼‍♀️ Joshua🤍: mhm just wait until I see yo' ass

I rolled my eyes at the text he just sent he's so annoying he's like another annoying ass brother hell he's even worse than Montez ass, i sat my client down in the chair and began parting their  hair doing what I do best.

They showed me what hairstyles they wanted, and I told them I could do that for them. As I was focusing on their hair, I heard a familiar voice coming in the background; not even paying attention, noticing that an unwanted presence was walking up towards me.

I looked up only to see Carmelo standing there with my favorite roses in his hands along with some other things, I don't know if this was him telling me that he's sorry or some type of trick for him to do it to me again.

"Carmelo what are you doing here?" I questioned him.

"Baby I just came to visit my favorite girl at work. Are you coming to support me tonight for my dark match?" Carmelo said.

"I'm going to be there only to support Montez and Jey..." when I said that name his facial expression dropped immediately.

He remembered what he had said to me, saying how I only belonged to him and only him, so when he heard me say another man's name, he didn't like that.

"As in Jey Uso?"

"Yeah, Jonathan's twin." I replied while applying the clips onto their locs.

"What's goin with'chu and him?" Why the fuck is he asking me all of these questions I literally just met Jey and we are just friends 'or so I thought.'

Like he's being possessive when we aren't even together anymore, how the fuck does that work?

"Look, don't start this in here with me while I'm at work. You can leave respectfully," I said sternly, staring deeply into his dark brown eyes.

"I'm just asking baby, ion' want no other nigga to be all in that like I do shit he probably can't handle all of you." I scoffed in disbelief. How could he be so confident about this? When he doesn't even know the little mini flirting that me and Jey do like, Jey could scoop me up right away in a heartbeat.

I nodded my head, cooperating with him so that nothing terrible happened to me while I was there because he was crazy and he could end up doing what he did before.

He placed a kiss on my cheek, which gave me shivers down my spine. How badly I wanted to wipe that fucking kiss off of my face as he walked off.

I immediately wiped the kiss off my cheek, feeling disgusted as I continued to do their locs.

✧˚° I was done with work today and made a lot of tips, which made me happy. I texted Montez, letting him know that I'll be in his locker room watching his match, including Jey's match as well. I have never seen him wrestle before in the ring, so this should be interesting.

As I was walking towards his locker room i bumped into Jey who had his yeet gear on along with his golden grills including his piercings and fresh haircut I just wanted to pass out right then and there but I had to play it cool.

"My fault minks didn't even see you there yo' ass is short." Jey said jokingly as I punched him in his arm.

"Don't be coming for my height just because you're taller than me don't mean that I won't whoop that ass." I said boldly as he had a smug expression appearing on his lips.

"You like to talk a lot of shit don't you little mama." I nodded my head while folding my arms over my chest standing my ground I was not finna play with him right now.

Little did I know someone was watching us behind the corner.

"Last time I checked, I said you weren't going to do anything about it." I got all up in his face, looking deeply into his low, hooded eyes.

I felt him pull me by the waist so that I could be closer to his body, he smelt so good it felt like I was in heaven right now with him.

Our faces were close to each other lips almost touching each other while he whispered something in my ear, "and last time I checked I said fuck around and find out didn't I?" His voice was so deep and raspy, almost killing somebody.

My breathing felt uneven, being underneath him like this. Why am I getting like this with him? I looked down at my hands, fiddling with them as he grabbed my chin, making me stare into his eyes yet again.

Earning a smile from him before brushing his thumb against my lips, "your adorable minks but I'll see you later after my match yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll be in Montez's locker room," I said as he and I backed away from each other, letting him off to his match while I walked inside Montez's locker room.

She sat down in the chair, staring up at the TV, seeing her brother and Angelo coming out with B-fab, hyping up the crowd. They always played in my brother's face like he wouldn't have a title shot.

As I was watching them, I heard the door opening and saw Trinity coming in. She came up to me, giving me a hug before sitting down.

"Hey babygirl how are you mentally?" She asked.

"I'm doing better mentally, honestly." I replied seeing Montez and Angelo coming out.

She raised an eyebrow at me, "And who's helping you out with that girl?" I didn't say anything; I just looked at her and then back up at the screen, watching my brother's match.

Trinity got the hint of who was helping out with that, and she knew that it was her brother-in-law, Jey. He and I are just friends, and he's been helpful throughout the whole thing.

"So you and Josh?" My eyes fixed on her. "We are just friends, Trin; nothing more. I told you all I think I wanna be in a relationship again."

"I understand if I were in your shoes, Yasmine, but I think Josh is different from any other guy that you have dealt with, including Carmelo. But I get it, " she said.

I nodded my head while watching Montez get dropped on the table, feeling his pain, as I was watching my brother get demolished right now. Meanwhile, I started to drown in my thoughts, thinking about what had happened earlier at work and then the intense moment Jey and I had together.

I threw away the roses he had bought me not wanting to trace any negative energy around me and when he kissed me on the cheek I just felt so disgusted especially after what he did to me.

I was listening to what Trinity had said about Jey. Maybe she's right, and maybe he is different from any other guy I was with, but I would have to see that for myself. But did I really want to go through that route again?

Dating someone just for them to hurt me again at this point I might as well kill myself if that was the case. Nonetheless I have to protect myself at all cost.

"Do you know when you're debuting on Smackdown?"

"I have no idea Paul hasn't said anything to me yet about it." I said shrugging my shoulders in the process.

"Well, he needs to figure it out so I can see my girl do some flips." I chuckled at her. Looking at the screen, I saw that Montez and Angelo got the W for tonight. I think Jey's match is the main event after the commercial break.

Hearing Montez coming in with Bianca as he held onto his head with an ice pack, man if I was in his shoes right now I probably would've been in pain man.

"How are you feeling brother?"

"Nigga I'm in pain girl just wait until you start you'll understand." Montez said.

"Nigga What'chu mean? I already felt it when I was in NXT." I said jokingly while rolling my eyes at him.

"So, Yasmine, how are you and Joshua?" Montez looked at me and then back at Bianca, confused, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

I told her to stop talking about it because there wasn't anything going on between me and him. We are just friends, nothing more. Well, that's what I believe because we've been doing some mini flirting, like earlier before I came to the Montez locker room.

But Montez wasn't buying it he wanted to know since he trust Jey with his life. "Brother, nothing is happening between him and I; I promise we are just friends." I earned a hum from him as he was smelling bullshit but just left it alone.

I know how overprotective Montez is toward me, especially now since the incident that happened, so of course, he's going to be looking out for me.

I heard Jey's music playing as his match was approaching. I saw him coming out of the gorilla and going towards the ring, mouthing to the camera, "Here I go, here I go." I couldn't help but admire him as I watched him go out there.

He was interacting with the crowd as they waved the hands up and down vibing out with him.

✧˚° I was walking towards the gorilla to congratulate Jey on his win tonight when I felt someone pull me to the side before I could turn. When I turned around, I saw Carmelo next to me with his arms folded.

I rolled my eyes at him, trying to ignore his presence. Walking in, the gorilla saw Jey standing there, his hair all messy and sweating. Man, he never fails to look so good.

He had his back turned, talking to Jonathan about something. As I tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around, noticing my little self gazing up at him.

I still felt Carmelo's presence behind me as Jey gazed down at me with a smile while giving me a hug. I knew that Carmelo was watching, probably fuming right now at the sight.

"Hey, pretty girl you watched my match for tonight?" Jey asked as he kept his hands on my hips.

"Yeah, I did you did a great job out there Josh." I said.

"Thank you, hope I can see you out there I heard you were on hell of an athlete doing flips and shit." I chuckled at him maintaining that eye contact with him god he was so fine and mesmerizing to see.

That's when we heard someone clear their throat behind us, completely forgetting that Carmelo was standing right there with his arms folded, looking at Jey and me. Meanwhile, Jonathan was behind us, knowing that he was protecting me away from him.

Shit both of them were.

"Can we talk in private Yasmine?" Carmelo asked.

"No, I don't wanna speak nor be around you Melo I gotta go home because I'm tired." I said as I felt Jey's hand around my waist.

"Nah it's because you're around this nigga, I told you; you better not find nobody else because you belong to me didn't I?" Jey came in front of me, standing in his face, staring down as they had a face-off with each other.

"She don't belong to nobody like she's some pet show some fucking respect." Jey said sternly.

Carmelo looked him up and down, scoffing before leaving out the gorilla, mouthing that I was going to get it whenever I was alone and not with them, but as long as they were around, he couldn't do a damn thing.

Jey turned around and faced me, signaling Jon that we needed some privacy alone, and that's what he did, leaving me and him alone.

"Thanks for sticking up for me, Josh. That really means a lot," I said, fiddling with my fingers.

"It's all good mama, ion know what's your history with him but he's toxic." Knowing damn well he knew that was your ex-boyfriend me and him walked towards his locker room as he shut the door behind us while I sat down on his couch.

My eyes followed his every move as he took off the gear that he had on; I looked away, scrolling through my socials, not trying to get caught by him.

"Did you drive here to work Yasmine?" He asked.

"Yeah, I did why? Did you want to take me home?"

"I did, actually, that's why I had to ask, but are you good being in here by yourself while I go take a shower?" I nodded my head as he left toward the restrooms, locking the door to make sure nobody came in.

I was on my phone waiting for Joshua to finish when I saw that Montez had texted me.

Big Bro Tez💪🏽 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Big Bro Tez💪🏽: where are you Minks? Big Bro Tez: lemme' know

I know that he's worried about be and my whereabouts but I was with Joshua I am safe.

Minnie🧃: I'm okay Montez I'm in Joshua's locker room right now. Big Bro Tez💪🏽: oh A'ight I was just making sure that's all Minnie🧃: he made sure to lock the door so nobody won't come in Big Bro Tez💪🏽: okay, then little sis I'll see you at home. Minnie🧃: kk

After texting Montez to let him know what was happening, I made sure I had my keys and purse with me. I've seen Jey coming in with some fresh new clothes on, along with his hair still being wet.

"Hey, I'm finna head home Josh." I spoke as he watched me get up from the couch.

"Lemme' walk you to your car then that way I could get to mines as well." Jey replied as I nodded my head while we both walked out the locker room together going towards the garage.

As we were walking down to the garage, I felt his gaze on me, as if he were admiring me. However, I didn't want to catch him in the act, so I just played it off.

He was so bad at hiding it, too, which made me snicker at him, causing him to raise an eyebrow at me. "What's so funny?"  I looked up at him seeing his face being all serious.

"You're funny Joshua, not trying to get caught stealing glances at me or what?" I said in a teasing tone.

"Don't start with that teasing shit Yasmine." I rolled my eyes at him while sticking my tongue out at him.

"Or what? What are you goin' to do Josh?" I was tempting him right now as I could see that same smug expression on his face that he had earlier when we had this similar conversation—running his available hand down his beard.

I finally reached my car, opened the backseat, threw my purse inside, and shut the door.

I felt his hands on my hips turning me around as he cornered me keeping me in place, our faces were close to each other.

"You're honestly testing me Minks."

I shrugged my shoulders at him, folding my arms over my chest.

"What can I say sir, I love to test people's patience so they can fix it." I said boldly, grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks, his hands slithering down my ass cheeks, squeezing them, causing me to yelp.

"What'chu want me to fix huh? That sassy ass attitude of yours?" Lord have mercy, his deep voice will be the death of me speaking to me like this. All of that confidence just went down the drain after he spoke up like that.

I glanced down at my feet while he gently raised my chin, his fingers brushing his thumb on my lips, and stared deeply at me.

"Don't got nun to say? What happened little mama?"

"Boy, fuck you and move so I can get in the car." He gave me a swat on the ass cheeks, holding them since he enjoys that stuff, me being all snarky towards him.

'I feel like me and his chemistry is there like so there.'

'But I remember what I told myself: don't be vulnerable around anybody or give in. With Joshua he seems so different from the rest.'

Joshua stays that way including eye contact with each other; he is quite patient with me and understanding especially where I am coming from during all of this.

"Fix that attitude."

"No, Josh moveeee." I whined

"Nah, c'mere princess." He scooped me up by the thighs placing me on the trunk of my car getting between my legs.

As he looked down at me with his hooded eyes and I looked up at him with my innocent ones, he was giving me a lot of anxiety right now. He licked his lips while glancing down at my lips and then back to my gaze.

I was unsure of his next move, but I could feel his stiff member between my legs as his hand brushed my cheek and lifted my chin.

"J-Josh...I want to take things slow...I want to get to know you more before anything..." I said softly.

"I understand mama ion' wanna pressure you into anything let's get to know each other a little better and be best friends." He said placing a kiss on my cheek.

This made me blush a little bit while looking away from him for a second. He chuckled at my cuteness before moving away from my legs.

He held his hand out as I took it, getting down from my trunk and fixing myself as he opened my door for me like a true gentleman.

When I got inside my car, he stood there, asking, "Am I going to see you tomorrow?" I nodded my head as he shut my door gently while I pushed the button to start the ignition.

Before I drove off towards the gate, I blew him a kiss. He was so charming, staring down at me like that, that I wondered what would have occurred if we had gone a little farther. I could feel his firm member between my legs, which made me realize he must have been packing.

Because of my commitment difficulties, I do not want to rush things since I am afraid he would cheat on me. Or, while we are currently great friends, find someone else. I began to obsess over it, wondering if Carmelo was correct.  Although she is most likely saying it because it is her brother-in-law, I still want to trust what Trinity said.

I am not sure, but I will continue to protect my heart with this barrier.

SomeThing Bout' Us.

A/n: things between Yasmine and Jey are getting spicy right now but I'm glad that Jey is respecting her and him wanting to be best friends with her.

Carmelo ass finna be shitty when he finds out about them two being all over each other.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

[whysamwhy123]

Ain't done this in a while but it's sorely needed because I have had A Week. So, if anyone has any spare serotonin lying around and would like to share, through the form of asks, it would be greatly appreciated.