#and then I was like you know what I'm not a fucking joke I'm not gonna beg for attention and deleted the messages

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push my heel into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[a1ecmcdowell]

dean winchester x angel!reader — innocence is a virtue.

or, how on earth is he supposed to corrupt you? you? or, dean's newest passenger princess is killing him slowly and violently.

cw, fluff but with sexual elements. mostly fluffy though. reckless driving DO NOTTT do this!! professionals only!! dirty minded!dean. honestly just horny!dean really. innuendos galore.

word count : 2.9k

notes, guys can i be so honest i have not even gotten to the seasons where angels come into spn. this is all based on the lil bits n pieces i know of the future stuff ok. ik i'm a fraud but BE GENTLE IF IT'S OOC OR ANYTHING < /3

req. by anon & in honor of kas's dean & angel fics bc i LOVEEE them

★ ˚⋆

dean, honestly, had never met someone quite like you. when he'd told cas in passing that he was about the most naive, innocent thing he'd ever met, all he did was give him one of those looks he reserved only for dean. he thought, then, that it was just because he was being a bit of a shithead, and cas was telling him without telling him so.

very quickly, he found out how wrong he was about both of his assessments.

the day you came down to earth and graced everyone, literally, with your presence, dean was smitten. never before had he met someone so sweet. so honestly pure. until you, he thought that purity was nothing but an ideology based on impossible feats. a pipe dream and a half for the faithful. no, the reality was that he just hadn't met you yet.

sam was pouring himself into research, too focused to realize that dean was all but whittling away in his starvation, so when he offered to go grab some cheap shit from the diner a few minutes from the motel, all he got in response was a mumble of agreement and a wave of his hand from him.

but you, who'd been sitting on the motel bed, stiff as if you had something stuck up your ass holding you in place, turned to him and asked to come with. that struck dean off kilter immediately, because he hadn't been asked for anything in a long ass while. sam just usually assumed he'd be writing shotgun wherever they went. john — no, he'd never ask his son anything, usually buried that sentiment in harsh demands and orders. cas asked him lots of questions, but permission was not often one of them.

and when he looked at you, read over your features and saw the genuineness in your wide, expectant eyes... god, how could he say no?

so you sat there in the passenger seat. dean had to buckle you in with a joke that flew right over your head — another joke you would not get, even though he was fucking killing it with them right now — about not wanting to send you flying if they got into a wreck.

you proceeded to unbuckle and buckle and unbuckle again a few times, seemingly fascinated with the click of the mechanism. dean wanted to be annoyed. genuinely. if sam had started pulling this shit, dean would have pulled over and drove a few feet ahead as a warning to cut it the fuck out.

but with you, it was adorable in its own right. god, it was! somehow it surprised you, every time it clicked, even if you'd already done it eight times. like, how did anyone expect him to get pissy at you when you were doing those sharp, surprised gasps every few seconds? a few more times and he'd be pulling over to give you something to gasp at, he thought idly.

and then winced, scrunching up his face, when he realized how deep in the gutter his head was. no, he wouldn't touch you. wouldn't even try to plant that idea in your pretty little head.

dean didn't want to corrupt you. if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he wanted to keep that pretty little head as clear as his nose was, alright? he wasn't going to be the one to break you into what this world was, its hardships and its cruelties — and its more deviant pleasures.

but fuck, you made it so hard to keep his head straight.

you did this thing, he realized too, on that silent, clicky drive, where you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth when you were in deep thought. thought about what, fuck if he knew, because if you said something to him in the moments that he watched you do it, he'd never know. he was watching your mouth but not to listen.

dean was about to start reprimanding himself in his head, for what must have been the third time already, when you said something, nearly making him slam on the brakes in his surprise.

"how are you doing this?" you asked, as if that wasn't the vaguest question he'd heard in his entire life.

dean blinked a couple of times as he waited for elaboration that never came. he switched hands on the steering wheel, resting his right loosely over the gearstick. "doing..." he trailed off, shaking his head slowly in a gesture to make you keep talking, "what, exactly?"

you did not catch the hint, and he was probably a fool for expecting you to. it took a few more seconds of you staring very intently at his thighs for you to speak up, and by then, he was fucking squirming in his leather seat, trying to not let it get to either of his heads that you were so blatantly staring at his dick.

"this," you answered, twinges of frustration evident in your tone. he couldn't blame you. he was getting frustrated in this car ride, too. "making it move."

christ. he was going to hell. he was going to hell again, this time because of his own drifting thoughts.

"you're gonna have to be a little more clear, dove," he managed through his teeth, voice strained, "'cause i don't think we are on the same train of thought right now."

another blink, and another few seconds pass. your hand shot up in his direction and he flinched, honestly flinched, convinced from the filthy thoughts circling in his head that you were about to grab him by the—

"this," you repeated, and he almost bristled at the attitude, almost told you off about virtues or whatever, when he finally got it. your arm stuck out in gesture to his legs, which pushed the gas pedal and rested against the doorframe, as he drove.

dean closed his eyes briefly, metaphorically swapping his metaphorical wrist for his headspace. he was not, was not, the person that should be introducing you to this world.

dean shifted again, bringing his left leg closer to the leather seat as he readjusted into more of a comfortable position. he hadn't even realized how tense he'd gotten on this short car ride until now. he was as straight backed as you were, and breathing just as slow. "driving?" he asked anyways, like an idiot.

"driving..." you repeated, like the word was as fascinating to you as the process was. "how?"

the diner sign was right there. it was teal and glowed, retro in style, announcing benny's bistro as open.

he drove past it.

dean knew that you did not sign up for a driver's ed course with him with your question, knew even more that he was risking his baby for a pathetic attempt at flirting with someone who did not even know the definition of the word, but to hell with it. you'd asked to come along with him, and therefore placed yourself in his hands for his guidance. the least he could do was make some sort of effort, couldn't he?

"c'mere," he grumbled once he'd pulled baby off into an unassuming back road, parking it dead in the center. you'd need all the open space. he patted his spread thighs a couple of times.

your stupidly pretty pink lips sucked into your stupidly straight teeth. fuck. "why?"

"just—" he cut himself off when he realized he was about to get snippy. you didn't deserve snippy. he was just hungry and horny and you were pretty and he was...

he was pathetic. looking for reasons to get you into his lap. he'd already been to hell, what are they gonna do, drag him back by his ear?

"just do it," dean finished on a sigh, his hand dropping to the front of his leather seat, grabbing the handle and shoving the seat back as far as it could go. there you were, staring at his dick again, making him feel hotter and more bothered.

he felt his heart stop solidly in his chest when you started to climb over the middle console, so oblivious to the faceful of ass he was getting. dean was practically praying to god at that point. he knew he'd been a shit until then, and definitely a sinner by every means, but if he could grant him a little fucking strength—

you plopped your happy little ass right between his muscular, jean-clad thighs. you were warm, was his first thought. he was screwed, was his second.

"what now?" you asked him, that innocent lilt to your voice as you did, and he felt like a dirty little freak for wanting to bend you over the steering wheel moments before ( who was he kidding? for still wanting to bend you over the steering wheel ).

dean took both of your hands and placed them on the steering wheel. once he'd closed your fingers around the wheel, he dropped his hands to your thighs.

"this one," he patted the left one, and nearly went molten behind you, when you lifted that thigh and placed it on his palm. "nuh uh," he tried to lightly correct, "this one you don't use. jus' keep it out of the way." dean's voice was strained in his ears, in his throat.

you slipped your thigh out of his grasp, pressing it up against the inner of his own thigh, your foot tucked around his ankle. you were so trusting and compliant. he was so, so screwed, and so, so awful for thinking about breaking that sweet naivety.

"this one," he said, patting your right thigh, and when you didn't move it this time, he smiled, just a little, to himself. "you use to make it move."

the flush on your cheeks that followed his tease was so damn pretty it took his breath away.

he lifted his leg, not able to reach the pedals with you sat between them and his seat all the way back. he pointed his boot at the left pedal, knowing you were watching each of his movements intently. "that's the stop pedal. push it down to stop." he repeated the process he'd done with your legs, boot pointing at the right pedal as he explained it. "that's the ignition."

pause.

"that's the go," he corrected, sparing you any momentary confusion and any more questions, he hoped. dean could not keep sitting here idle with you between his legs. "makes the car drive. harder you push, faster it goes."

hell, hell, hell. he wasn't going to hell, because he was already in it, strung up and burning.

"i'll handle the gears," he added quickly, when he caught your head turning downward to the shift stick. "don't wanna overwhelm that pretty little head of yours, dove, with too much at once."

dean rested his right hand on the gear stick, his left hand gripping the handle on the driver's door for dear life. he needed the support; you were driving him up a wall with his claws out, and you were about to be driving him. driving his baby. it took a lot of coaxing from sam for dean to let sam behind the wheel. all you did was ask how do you make it move? and he was letting you drive.

you. who did not even know what a car was. who was learning how to drive literally that moment.

god help him. he'd prayed more in this fifteen minute drive than he had in years.

you pressed down on the gas pedal, and the car revved all pretty and loud. dean watched with bated breath as the response to your efforts registered in your head, the way your eyes lit up in that curious glimmer, the fucking teeth biting on your lip.

once you let up, he pushed on the gear stick's release, and tugged it down from park to drive. the car slowly began to move down the dirt path.

you slammed the brakes so hard that his head knocked into the back of your shoulders. "fuck, dove, gentle."

and you were, when you shifted your foot over to the gas pedal again. you pushed it down on it tentatively, the car starting to glide down the dirt road, the sound of pebbles grinding beneath the tires.

"better," he mumbled in your ear, leant forward to keep his eyes on the windshield. it's not that he didn't trust you, he just... yeah, he didn't trust you. "just like that, dove."

the praise, though, goes in one ear and out the other, because the gentle ease of baby's tires along the road is interrupted by you slamming the gas. the tires squeal. clouds of dirt and dust puff out from behind the car as it takes off.

dean's heart went from in his ass to in his throat in a manner of a second. "whoa, whoa, whoa!" he exclaimed, a nervous laughter bubbling out of his throat. "slower, slower, will ya? crashin' in the middle of nowhere is the last—"

you hit the brakes again, still hard but less this time. just enough to send his head knocking into your shoulder again as the car slowed.

slowed, but still headed toward the ditch. "right, see your hands?" he asked, chin nuzzling into the plush spot between your neck and your shoulder so he could see better. "twist 'em. nice n' gentle for me, to your left, yeah, good girl. makes the whole car move, yeah? jus' keep it on the dirt, not off "

you follow his instructions, and dean feels a swell of pride at this. maybe he should have gone into driver's ed or some shit. he was a good ass teacher.

"like this?" you asked, drawing him out of his self glazing. your voice, soft and hesitant, breathless with your excitement, has his chest heaving.

"yeah, dove, jus' like that," he rasped, his left hand moving from the doorframe to rest where your thigh met your hips. the car kept its slow pace down the long dirt road, and for the first time since you'd gotten your hands on the wheel, his heart doesn't feel like it's pounding in his throat. "no, no, don't stop. keep goin', you're doing so good for me."

his phone starts to buzz in his pocket, and like that, his self indulgent driver's ed lesson comes to a screeching halt. "you jus' keep on going like this, alright?" he asked you, patting your hip with his hand before he reluctantly let go.

he definitely answered the phone with more attitude than necessary. couldn't help it. he was having a great time. "what, sam?"

"everything alright?" sam asked, and then dean felt like a prickhead for giving him shit at all. "s'been thirty minutes."

dean sighed, his eyes lifting again to look out the front windshield. a stop sign was quickly approaching, and you didn't even need his guidance for that. you were slowing to a stop all on your own. he was so fucking proud, it was sick. "all good. long line at the burger place."

it was dead empty, four miles back.

"we'll be back in a few, alright? chew on one of your books or somethin' while you wait, make 'em useful."

"dean—"

he hung up before he could hear sam's sighed response.

his hand fell to your waist again, squeezing lightly to stop you from lifting your foot off of the brake just yet. "play time's over. calvary's callin' us back."

dean pushed the gear stick into park again before he moved both of his hands to your hips, helping guide you back into the passenger seat.

he adjusted the seat again, his hands finding their typical place on the wheel. he did a very illegal u-turn at the four-way intersection and headed back down the road that you'd driven him down.

"have fun?" he asked after a beat, eyes flicking over to see you. you looked so pretty in the orange glow of the sunset, your face lit up in deep gold.

you turned to meet his eyes, and he had to look away quickly, the bright glimmer of adrenaline in them knocking all the wind out of him. "yes."

"good." dean meant it. there were so few things he'd risk everything for, but that toothy smile of yours jumped to the top of that list.

"dean?" your voice rung out again, earning him another glance your way in acknowledgement. "what part of the car was in my back the whole time?"

dean faltered, eyes blinking in a bout of surprise and lips parting, searching for a response he did not have. his eyes dropped down to his lap for a second, dread and embarrassment pooling like ice water in his stomach at what he hoped wasn't— yeah. yeah, it was.

"i dunno, dove," he mumbled through his teeth, staring straight ahead, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, doing basically anything to not meet that curious look of yours. especially knowing you'd have your lip in your teeth all over again. "might have t'take it to the shop, while we're in town... get it checked out or somethin'..."

he was so damn screwed.

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4nicholas @deanswidow @deansbite

[tiefighter]

hey im feeling nerdy and i took my meds so I'm hyperfocusing on typing for some reason so I'm gonna like

drop some shit

but that's because people are usually raised like they're in a prison. No joke. There's a social theory called Panopticon Theory (link leads to a course brief for a university that explains it pretty well) which boils down to "people behave themselves if they think someone is always watching and they'll get in trouble" which was developed for an actual prison system. Schools reinforce this, so do workplaces, and basically social gender norms also reinforce this. A lot of our media does too! Think about the movies you've watched where it's like, hey the protagonist has defied some rule they didn't know about, and now shadowy government figures are after them!!!! CONSEQUENCESSSSSSSS The result is that as a society, we tend to want to "behave" because there's like, someone watching us. And for Americans in general, there's also the history of slavery in their country that makes that a double whammy for anyone that's not white. Here in Australia, there's also a history of our native people being subjugated and literally eugenics'd nearly out of existence, and the white idiots were a colony of convicts, so there's active pushback against that sort of shit in the WEIRDEST AREAS.

There's a lot of stuff to look at that I'll mention briefly, like tall poppy syndrome, the male gaze, toxic masculinity and a bunch of OTHER SHIT that makes you more aware of WHY you feel like you're going to get into trouble if you don't do person right. And that's saying nothing of masking, autism and adhd and rejection sensitive dysphoria, which is just my personal experience. general shit here: you might get in trouble, but there's reasons why and if you know what they are, you can circumvent and sometimes even game the system and I'll tell you, it's cathartic not to give a fuck because you know the ways they're trying to make you.

Amazing how I’m a grown adult and I still cannot shake the exact same childhood feeling of thinking im going to “get in trouble”

[alchemistc]

Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.

Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.

Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.

"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"

His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.

Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.

"Tommy?"

He groans an affirmative.

"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."

A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."

"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."

Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"

He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"

"...why are you mad at me?"

"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."

"He's - he'll be fine."

"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."

"Bi-weekly like -."

"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"

"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."

Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"

Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"

He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."

Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."

And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"

Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."

"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."

Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"

"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"

"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"

Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.

"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"

"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."

"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."

His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.

[arminsumi]

ㅤ★ ONETWOTHREEFOUR — MAX!

... bully!Gojo loves fucking you in the bathroom stall, turning his creampies into whipped cream inside you. But you know what else he loves? Plugging you up with a vibrator and surprising you by turning it on mid-lecture — and passing the control over to his best friend.

ㅤ★ requested by anon / promptlist

ㅤ★ cws; strictly no under 18s, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, secret public sex/nearly caught (poor confused Choso just getting moaned at), multiple orgasms/creampies, remote toy control, Suguru gets passed the remote, dirty talk, some spanking/ass slapping

There's just no way he can reach your little hole without bending his knees — and still you have to be poised on your tippy toes to let him fuck you.

Body shuddering with your hands splayed against the bathroom stall's pretty pink wall, your skirt fisted in his big hands and your thong pushed to the side of your puffy lips, bully!Gojo thrusts into your poor overused pussy 'till she cries, 'till she gushes, 'till he groans and releases another cumload against your cervix, 'till he turns his creampies into whipped cream.

Sure, his cockhead is oversensitive from plunging into your wet walls, and his balls are sore from slapping into your poor puffy clit for creampie after creampie, and yeah, there's cum dripping down the front of his thighs— but he's fucking you to put you in your place. And with how addicted he is to the feeling of being inside you, getting his pretty pink cock hugged tight by your walls, he just can't stop now.

His hips practically move on their own. His cock keeps telling him not to pull out just yet — it's telling him let's let her have it.

In mock affection, he presses his sweaty cheek against your forehead, white wispy bangs sticking to your skin, eyes glued to your jiggling breasts, big hand coming down to rub your clit. "Insensitive, huh?" he asks in a dangerous coo, "I'll show ya how fucking insensitive I can be." and with that, he's frantically massaging circles on your super fucking sensitive clit.

"Ah! Fuck! T-t-toruuu, I'm sorry! I didn't even mean it, I was just a-angryyy!" you sob out, feeling his mean cockhead rubbing sweet spots deep inside you.

His clit rubbing is ruthless, and he's a messy boy you know he doesn't care that his fingers and palm are coated with your slick.

"Nah, you meant it." he grunts back, blue eyes piercing you with a glare, hips pounding into you from the back, muscles twitchy 'n tensing, "Now stay still 'n take it. I told'ya I was gonna fuck that attitude out of ya, didn't I?"

You let out a strangled moan at his words, nearly going limp against the shuddering bathroom stall's wall. Satoru presses your head against it, smushing your cheek, getting rougher by the second.

He's still tightly fisting your skirt in his hand, other hand sometimes tugging harshly on your pathetically tiny thong — the one he told you to wear today, or else he's gonna throw one of his spoiled rich boy tantrums. He can't resist groping at your soft ass and spreading your ruby red smacked cheeks wide.

Satoru momentarily stills inside you, choking you up with how deep he chooses to keep his throbbing cock, and then he repositions himself; sharp polished black shoes clicking as he spreads his long legs further apart.

"New angle, hope ya like it." he jokes, angling his cock so it curves right against the gummy roof of your pussy, right against that spot.

"Oh fuck!" you cry out when he starts pounding up into your hole, nearly lifting you off your feet with the force of each thrust, makin' your sweaty body jiggle erotically.

He watches you widen your eyes when his cock hits a sweet spot just right, the one that makes your eyes twitch in pleasure 'n your knees buckle.

You're gushing around him, totally soaking his length, pussy too full of his gooey creampies 'n now they're leaking out and running down your thighs.

His cock hits that damn sweet spot again, with more precision than before.

"Oh fuck, fuck! Right there! Fuck me right there, 'Toru!" you chokingly moan, feeling a shockwave of pleasure pulse from your pussy to every point in your body.

"Damn, chill." he chuckles.

Chill? Of course he'd say that while he's fucking you like he's trying to get you cockdrunk. He's pounding into your gummy walls 'n rubbing your clit with this hate-fueled determination.

All you did was talk back to him in class. Just a cutesy little snide remark. You thought it would turn him on. Well, it did turn him on — it also turned his gaze cold and wiped the smirk off his face. Two things that sent shivers down your spine.

Oh, I'm fucked.

The way he leaned back and hummed had your pussy twitching, already getting wet at the thought of what he was gonna do to put you back in your place.

Whiiich brings us back to the last bathroom stall of the men's bathroom, the stall in which your bully is fucking up your guts and turning you into his personal cocksleeve.

He's close, you can tell because that's when his steady, deep strokes slow and he takes two inches out so he can rub annoyingly back and forth across his favorite ridge inside your pussy. And his tell-tale signs? Choppy breathing, brows twisted together, tightened grip on your body, 'n he's got this psychotic smile forming on his face which he likes to press against your sweaty forehead to let ya know how much he's enjoying bullying you.

Just feeling all his cum getting fucked out of your quivering hole makes you want to cum again. It's almost scary. What if you fall apart? You might even scream this time. Nah, who cares honestly? You can't control how your walls squeeze his cock now even though he bitterly scolds you for being too tight, too tiny to take him all.

You can hardly hear the nasty vocabulary he's using on you, 'cause you're too fucked-out on his thick cock, not even caring if the squelching sounds and choking moans escape under the door and echo down your college's corridors. Even if anyone barged in, Satoru would probably just do what he did last week — when someone barged into the spare room while he was in heat 'n balls deep in your pussy — tell 'em to fuck off.

"Fuck me." Satoru groans, "That hot little pussy 's gonna make me cum... 'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... ahah... fuck."

He's just the type to giggle during the buildup to his orgasm. It sounds almost psychotic — yeah, you knew from day one that he's crazy and his cock is crazy.

His cock gets hotter, then it bursts with thick ropes of cum once again. The both of you savor in the feeling. It's in the aftershocks of his orgasm that Satoru wonders if he's actually falling in love with you.

Then he snaps-to.

"Shit, you're a fucking mess." Satoru grins almost sadistically, sweating like crazy under his uniform.

You're just shivering against the wall as he eases his cum-coated cock out your pussy, sliding past your folds. Cheek smushed against the wall, face looking like you just saw heaven for an hour, you're relishing the buzzy afterglow of getting fucked dumb by your bully.

His hard slap on your ass brings you back to reality. You hear the sound of him pulling his pants up his long legs, dragging up his zipper. The click of his button. Then he plants another hard slap on your stinging cheek.

You groan, teasingly wiggling your cum-filled pussy, feeling his big hands groping the plush of your cheek and spreading it to reveal your twitchy holes — and he just keeps grinning, watching his seed ooze out 'n drip down your pretty thighs — those thighs that are the reason he chased you in the first place.

You'd think he's looking at the Mona Lisa with how he marvels at the sight — but nah, it's just his white, gooey creampies smeared across your lips and inner thighs. "Aw, don't let it drip out or 'm gonna need to plug ya up..."

Trembling, you listen to him unzipping his backpack and rifling around. "What d'you mean?" you ask, looking back at him with a dazed afterglow on your face, but when you do he's already sliding something into your pussy.

"Ahhh, fuck!" you squirm, feeling that hot pink toy push inside and stretch open your cum-soaked walls again. "I'm so tired, gimmie a break!"

"Relaaax, it's just to plug ya up..." he grins mischievously.

"Oh... o-okay... if you say so."

Oh, but what a liar he is.

It's ten minutes after you and him cleaned up and scurried off to your class and took your seats.

Shit — late again. You curse Satoru and his dummy big cock as you settle down.

... then you feel something start to buzz inside you.

"Oh!?" you let out a small gasp.

Vibrations against your sweet spots make your eyes flicker. Your filled pussy freaks out, spasming and twitching like crazy around the toy.

You give a glare of disbelief back at Satoru, who sat two rows behind and above you — duh, so he could always get a nice view of your breasts.

He sees you. He smirks. He raises a pink little controller shaped like a flat egg, and tauntingly shakes it in his hand before clicking a button.

One notch up.

"Nn!" you tighten around the toy.

He watches you freak out from afar, his sweaty face contorting into a diabolically naughty smirk.

Two notches up. Three notches. Off. Onetwothreefour — you gulp and smack the desk — earning a look from your seatmate, Choso.

The toy temporarily turns off.

"... sorry, this question is just so frustrating." you apologize, playing off your random desk smack.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I'm failing this class for sure."

"S-same, honestly." you reply shakily, soothingly rubbing up and down your clenched thighs.

You text Satoru with fervency.

You

'just a plug' my ass! wtf is this thing!

Toru

lol 🍑🔜 and chill... it's just a lil something i picked up for ya

You

ur the devil. i hate u.

Toru

ur hurting my feelings 🥺

Onetwothreefour — max!

"Fuck...!" you gasp again, feeling a dizzy rush as the toy buzzes at max deep inside your pussy.

Choso gives you a concerned side-glance.

"Sounds like you're really having a rough day." he jokes.

You look at him. He's sitting pretty close.

"You have no ideaaaaaahhhhhhh~" you moan back, accidentally cumming right there in front of your classmate.

Immediately clapping your hand over your mouth, you blink at him. Oh no... you just orgasmically moaned against poor, confused Choso's face.

His eyes widen. He blinks. " H u h ? "

Satoru sees this and slides down in his seat, holding in his laughter behind a toothy smile, pearly whites all on display. Now his best friend gives him a look.

"Satoru..." Suguru sighs, catching onto what was happening. "Give the girl a break."

"You wanna try?" he offers Suguru the remote control.

Suguru looks at it. He looks at you, then Satoru, then the toy... and takes it into his hand and chuckles with his best friend behind their textbooks, clicking it to a new pattern.

You just twitch your eyes and then shut them in pleasure, cursing the both of them in your mind while you feel your thighs tremble and feel the toy pulsing. Your pussy squeezes the pink silicone.

And you can hear those dastardly best friends giggling behind your back, watching you wiggle in pleasure, trying to contain your moans. Every time you glance back at them, Satoru makes mocking ahegao faces at you. Suguru just smirks and continues to play with the vibrator.

Oh, you were definitely gonna get 'em back for this.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐓𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 💗

[ifonlyyuweremine]

Captain’s Girl [Part II]

John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)

Synopsis: Mixed tension combined with a failed mission leads to a heated kiss between you and the Captain. But what happens when kissing turns into something more? And will a new mission back in Urzikstan be the catalyst to bring you together or tear you and your captain apart?

Tags: Enemies to lovers, SMUT, guys I'm not joking I went crazy with the smut, military romance, secret feelings, pining, idiots in love, fighting, secret relationships, consequences, LONG.

Word count? Do you even need to ask?

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

The helicopter ride back was abysmal, a whole 3 hours spent in absolute silence. You'd spent the majority of the time staring at your fraying shoelace. The subtle rocking of the aircraft kept you awake while everyone else slept off the rough morning (and the hangover). It turns out that drinking the night before being dispatched wasn't the best idea. Shocking.

It didn't help that your mind was still hung up on the kiss between you and Price. Also shocking.

In the past 24 hours, you discovered that there was a widespread rumor that you and your captain had been sleeping together. Everyone on base had started calling you the Captain’s Girl. And that Price didn't apparently hate you and thought that planting one on you was the best way to prove that.

Why he kissed you was an entirely new can of worms you didn't have the stomach to open right now.

Now, did you kiss him back? Yes. Why? You didn't know the fuck why. There were several possible answers to this dilemma, answer one, it was the heat of the moment. Answer two, it just felt right to do so, it's rude to leave a guy hanging. Answer three, you were just too shit-faced to think critically about it. You were leaning toward the last one.

The worst part of the whole situation, (besides the fact that you may have given those rumors a tiny bit of validity) was that Price was a phenomenal kisser. You remembered it in excruciating detail. And unlucky for you it might have been one of the best kisses you'd ever had.

A small part of you wondered if he enjoyed it too, but given his face when you separated. All flushed and surprised, his eyes wide with horror and his breath heavy… yeah maybe it was best not to dwell on your kissing abilities.

It was a small blessing that Gaz had been the one to almost catch you in the act. He loved to tease but he wasn't an asshole, your and Price's secret was most likely in good hands. Heaven forbid it was Ghost or Soap because you would've had half a mind to jump out of the helicopter without a second thought. The thought was still tempting though.

You glanced up at Price, his head tilted back and his eyes shut. He wasn't faring much better than you were. He had heavy bags under his eyes and the line between his brows was far more defined than usual. Somehow he still looked good. In a very professional way, of course. Not in a ‘we made out last night, and thinking about it turns me on,’ kind of way.

Eventually, you would have to interact with him professionally again. When his foot healed it would be back to regularly scheduled training.

Best case scenario, they'd put you all on leave and you could have a week or two surrounding yourself with other men to clear your head. You'd never really been one for an extended vacation, but exceptions could be made. Plus, going back to base meant going back to a whole bunch of people who thought you were bangin’ the boss.

You grimaced, vacationing in hell might have been better. On second thought, you'd take the checkpoint base any day. Home base could go fuck itself, at least it was hot and sunny back in Urzikstan. You heard someone chuckle and looked up to see Ghost looking at you.

“Ya’ look like you swallowed a lemon.” He said enthused. You made a sound that crossed between a sigh and a grunt.

“Just preparing myself for landing,” You breathed as the helicopter wobbled. The aircraft began to descend in a linear motion, making your stomach sink a little.

“Home sweet home.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

One week and three days, you had been back at base for almost two weeks without speaking a single word to Price. Maybe if you kept this up you could spend your last 8 months with 141 in peace.

Your days now had been mostly consisting of training (supervised by Ghost instead of Price), mindless tasks, eating in the commons, watching movies in the break room, and naps. It was kind of perfect, this was probably the most relaxed you'd ever been while at base. And nobody bothered to tease you over Price since he was rarely around. When he did make an appearance he didn't speak a word to you, which was somewhat nice.

A part of you wished for some explanation for the night of the kiss, but maybe ignorance was bliss. Whatever the reason, it was all behind you. You could totally remain professional when he comes back from recovery. Totally.

Gaz tried to talk to you about that night once, to which you immediately shut him down. Though, you knew he saw through you, and Price too, it was probably easier reading Price than you at this point. It was odd for Price to seclude himself away, even odder that he wasn't on speaking terms with you conveniently after the night that you tracked him down and blew up at him for starting a rumor that he most definitely did not create. Ghost had caught onto the odd tension between you two almost as fast as Gaz did.

Jhonny well… he was still in his own world, the man was smart sure, but he was a bit of a dunce when it came to reading other people's emotions. On the bright side that made him the perfect buddy to be around because he wasn't analyzing every interaction you had. You were grateful for him in his own way.

You were walking down one of the hallways after a bit of a loose end. Having nothing to do after training was a pain sometimes, you had an hour or two until dinner, and the base gym was at its busiest. And you didn't feel like you were in the mood to wait twenty minutes in a sweaty gym for a turn on the leg press machine. So, you opted for wandering around like a lost spirit in search of something to do instead.

Just as you turned a corner you collided with what felt like another wall. Your eyes met a 4x4 truck with a skull mask. Ghost.

“Easy, aren't sharpshooters supposed to be vigilant? Or are you the only exception?” His voice reverberated off your eardrums like a low-pitch bass. You rolled your eyes but let out an amused breath of air. To give the big guy some credit his name fits him perfectly, you didn't know how someone who was built like a standard Lego brick could be so stealthy. He could fit into any dark corner and nobody would be the wiser.

“Just you Ghost, you seem to be the only entity that evades me.” That seemed to pull a junction of his lips up because the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled. He held a small file filled with a few articles of paper tucked away into its folds.

Ghost crossed his arms, “What ya’ doin’? Have you taken up wandering hallways as a hobby now?”

You grimaced, “Gym was all full, didn't want to bother.” You said plainly, earning a nod from the bigger man.

“So… suppose that means you're free for time?” There was a slight smugness to his tone as he held the file up to you. Your gaze dropped from him to the file, he didn't phrase it like an order but you knew it was. You sighed and took the file from his hand. “Fine. Who do I have to track down to give this to?”

He shifted on one foot, “Price. You know where his office is.” You tried not to let your mouth fall open, this bastard.

You shook your head and tried to thrust the papers back into his chest, “What? No, I'm not giving these to Price. Can't you find someone else?”

Ghost stepped back and shook his head, raising his hands up in surrender. “Nope, s’outta my hands now. It’s one file, just knock on his door and drop it on his desk, easy.” You shot him a spiteful glare, there was probably an evil grin under that stupid mask.

You squeezed the file in your hands tighter, feeling the paper wrinkle in your vice grip. “Bastard.” You grimaced, turning on your heel towards the direction of Price's office. You heard him chuckle over your shoulder, “Good soldier.” He called after you, the shit-eating grin practically spotlighted through his tone.

Trudging through the familiar hallways toward Price's office was like walking through a dead-end alleyway. The further you got, the more signs you saw telling you to turn back. Sure you saw him after the night of the kiss, but you weren't being forced to talk to him or even acknowledge he was there. This was different, you would be alone with him. Alone in his office. Even if it was for a split second that you were in his presence the knowledge still made your skin pebble with goosebumps.

Before you knew it, you were facing the dreaded door of his office. The sight of the familiar plaque of his name gives you an almost Deja Vu feeling. The last time you were here things didn't go over too well, not that things ever really went great when the two of you came in contact.

You drew in a breath, just get this over with and you could be done. Maybe go take a shower or something, just go anywhere that was a good distance away from here. Your fist met the hardwood of the door, giving it a hearty few knocks. After a beat, his muffled voice reached your ears, “Come in.”

Pushing open the door you were greeted with the sight of Price. Doing pushups in the corner of his office. Okay, I guess. You were a little dumbfounded, usually one uses an office for things like paperwork or meetings. Not a personal gym. “I thought the point of recovering was that you're supposed to be resting.” You deadpanned. The file in your hands long forgotten.

His head immediately snapped up at the sound of your voice, pools of blue staring right into you like you'd walked in naked. Price halted mid-pushup, “[Name].” He breathed, obviously caught a little off guard by your appearance.

“Unfortunately,” You said back, watching as he got up and brushed himself off. The cotton of his shirt stretched over the expanse of his biceps and chest. Your eyes shot back to his face, a little guilty. Price cleared his throat, “They won't let me train in the gym yet. So, I have to improvise.”

You blinked at him, “Base doctor must love you.” You said sarcastically, glancing down at his foot. “How's your foot?” You asked politely, filling the awkward silence.

Price looked down at his wrapped foot, shrugging. “It's better. Don't need the crutch anymore.” He said plainly. You responded with a nod and an ‘ah,’ creating an even longer awkward silence. The two of you stood there for another beat, just looking at each other. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to run to him or run away from him. Just then you remembered the whole reason why you were here.

“Oh- uh, I have this for you-“ You held out the manilla file for him to take, “Ghost told me to bring it up here.” Price's eyes darted from the folder and then back to you, he hesitantly walked closer and took the file. His fingers brushed yours and you swear an electric current shot through your spine. His fingers were warm and rough, transporting you back to when his hands were in your hair, holding your face, cupping the back of your neck.

You swallowed, it felt like your heartbeat was in your head. “Thank you.” He said, pulling back his hand and the papers with it.

It was like someone had knocked the wind out of you, you were frozen. “…Right, I'll go then.” You said, taking a step back from him as he put the file on top of his desk.

“[Name]. Hold on, please.” His voice stopped you in your tracks, making you rotate a little to face him completely. His voice didn't sound angry, but it was firm. “Everything alright?” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, watching as he faced you. Leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

His adams apple bobbed up and down, lifting a hand to rub his mutton chops. “Yeah…I just wanted to clear up something with you.” His voice was careful, the pauses and hesitance filling you with dread. Shit. He wanted to talk about the kiss, which you most definitely did not want to talk about. A part of you was dying inside but you nodded, “Yeah, what's up?” You said through clenched teeth.

“About what happened the night before the team left Urzikstan, I just wanted to… apologize. It was unprofessional of me especially considering the circumstances.” You stood statue still, well this was a first. He was apologizing to you. Price continued, “It was a moment of weakness and emotions were running high and frankly I didn't know how else to show you I didn't hate you. I give you my word that it will never happen again.”

A moment of weakness? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? It was nice to hear an apology come from him but to be honest, you weren't sure if you were happy about the fact he was sorry. Maybe that meant he didn't enjoy it, but it certainly didn't seem like it when his tongue was down your throat. Well, if you were already on the subject mind as well ask.

“Did you hate it?” You asked, Price looked at you for a moment. His face was puzzled like it was the last thing he had expected to come out of your mouth. “What?” He asked, his voice thick behind his British accent.

You stood your ground, “The kiss-” you clarified. “Did. you. hate. it?” His eyes searched yours for an ounce of reasoning, “I- it was unprofessional and I shouldn't have initiated anything as your Captain-”

“That wasn't my question.” You cut him off, your eyebrows furrowed together as your gaze bore into him. “I asked if you hated kissing me.”

Price shifted, leaning back a little against his desk. It was silent for a while, the sound of the wall clock and your beating heart was the only noise you could hear. “No… I didn't hate it.” He said after another beat.

A small part of you soared, you could sleep at night knowing your kissing abilities weren't the cause of his skittishness. The next question slipped past your lips before you had the mind to stop yourself. “Do you regret it?”

Again his lips pulled into a frown and his eyes darted away, “[Name], I don't know why these questions are necessary.” But you weren't going to let him deflect you that easy, right now all thoughts of professionalism and integrity were out the window. You deserved an explanation, even if the logical side of your mind was telling you to leave. You stepped closer to him, so he couldn't ignore your presence.

“It's necessary because you kissed me out of nowhere and I deserve an explanation.” You said defiantly, “So do you or do you not regret it?”

He gave you an exasperated look before swallowing his pride. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer and thumb, he spoke, “I regret kissing you at that moment, and how I went about it. But I don't regret kissing you, no.”

Price’s cheeks turned a slightly rosy color that reached his ears. He looked like a guilty dog. You didn't know what surprised you more, the fact that he apologized or that he didn't regret kissing you. But his admission sparked a heat that crawled into your bones, burying into your stomach and coloring your cheeks similarly to his.

“Then just kiss me again.”

What came out of your mouth seemed to surprise you just as much as it did Price. He looked at you like you had grown a second head, “I'm sorry?” You felt your limbs lose feeling, fuck it, if you were going in mind as well go all in.

“I said what I said, if you regret how you went about kissing me last time…make it up now.” The silence that stretched over the two of you lasted for far longer than you were comfortable with. Price shook his head, seemingly coming back to reality. “[Name], I'm not kissing you.” He said pushing off the desk to stand at his full height.

You frowned, well shit. “Why not?” You said, trying not to let the surprise and annoyance bleed through your tone.

He looked at you incredulously, “Because we're in my fucking office and you're my subordinate.” Price said, gesturing around his office to further his argument. Jeez, you really hated this guy. He could at least throw you a bone after pulling a kiss on you out of nowhere.

“So? You kissed me out in the open at the checkpoint base- and I was your subordinate then too.” You knew that he knew you had a good point there, “If you don't want to kiss me or something you could've just said so.” You glared.

Price groaned and shook his head, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck. “No- I- fuck, of course I want to kiss you. But it's not appropriate, there are fraternization rules. Especially when it comes to me as your Captain.”

Aha! So he did want to kiss you, that at least was one more mystery solved. You craned your neck up to meet his eyes, your hands seizing his face. Cupping his scruffy cheeks between your palms. “Rules only apply if you get caught. And you owe me a better apology.” You told him sternly.

Price’s eyes were wide and his body tensed for a moment. Only to relax a moment later, the heat of his face could burn your skin. Your hands tingled as the pads of your fingers slid against the coarse scuff of his beard. His face hid something behind the mask of surprise, something that glinted in the pools of navy and grey. Everything about him looked so odd, so real.

Back at the checkpoint base, you didn't have time to look over his features or memorize them. You weren't able to watch the flicker in his eyes, something akin to a stalking wolf.

“One kiss.” Price breathed.

“One kiss.” You repeated back to him, trying not to let your voice quake.

That was all it took before his lips were slotted against yours, swallowing your breath and your mind with it. The kiss back at Urzikstan was rushed, desperate, quick. This. This was different. It was like a switch in your brain was flipped off, the mind-numbing static and the gentle rhythm of his lips replaced where your rational thought was supposed to be.

Large hands seized your waist, digging into your flesh. Slowly, the gentle probes of his mouth morphed into heavy kisses and heated groans. His mouth tasted the same as it did before, like smoke and whiskey. You doubted you'd ever forget the taste of him.

Your hands slid around his neck, and your dull nails dragged down his nape. Earning a throaty moan on his part, with each lick, groan, and movement of his lips, you only seemed to get sucked in further. Your senses were drowning in him, yet you only ached to go deeper. To let the water fill your lungs and cloud your brain.

Lips, tongue, teeth, you didn't know where it ended nor where it started. Hell, you didn't know what you were even doing. You didn't even realize you had moved until your behind hit the solid edge of his desk, making you retract for a sharp breath.

Price panted against your lips, still slick and kiss swollen. Neither of you did anything, standing still in the aftermath. The kiss said more than either of you could have ever put into words. Hands squeezed your hips, “On the desk.”

You blinked, only somewhat coherent, “What?” Price lightly pushed you further, the back of your body being pressed against the hardwood. “You heard me, sit on the desk.” His voice was rough and thick with his accent. It wasn't more of a request but a demand, and unlucky for you it made your knees weak.

Carefully you lifted yourself onto the flat surface, his body wedged between your open legs. The rough pads of his fingers grasping at your hips, and before you knew it you were kissing him again. It was addictive, he was addictive. This felt more like your fist kiss with him, the kisses became rougher, more rushed, and more desperate. Like trying to fill an endless void with his lips.

“I thought you said one kiss,” You managed to gasp out between open-mouthed kisses. You felt the pull of a smile on the corner of his lips before separating from you only to attach to your neck. Suckling at the skin and leaving trails of blooming redness in his wake.

“You said you wanted a better apology right?” Price said, his voice vibrating against your collar. The texture of his beard against your skin sending full-body shivers down your spine.

You nodded, your hands reaching to his back to fist the material of his shirt. “Yeah.” Your voice was breathy, it sounded almost foreign to you. Like you hadn't even spoken it. Hands dipped under your shirt, running up the soft skin of your ribs, mapping out your body. Price looked at you, something in his eyes was desperate, like a wild animal looking at their next meal.

“Then let me make it up to you. Please.” Fuck.

When had a man ever said that to you? And not any man but John fucking Price. A pulse drummed in your stomach that reached your core, here you were, sitting on your captain's desk with him in between your legs. Asking you to let him make it up to you. Really…who were you to refuse when he asked so nicely? You swallowed and nodded, “Okay.”

With your confirmation, Price lifted your shirt above your head, hastily tossing it somewhere on the floor. His hands making quick work of your bra with it, the offending garment joining your shirt on the floor. He stood there momentarily, taking in the new expanse of revealed skin. Price’s calloused hands glided over your abdomen, cupping your breasts and brushing a thumb over the hardened nipple.

You hissed, your spine curving at his touch. Price’s hands were hard and warm, a stark contrast to the plush mound of your chest. “Fuck, you're a vision you know that? So fucking pretty.” He breathed, his comments adding fuel to the fire between your legs. You couldn't remember the last time a man had called you anything near a ‘vision,’ but damn it felt good. It felt good to be wanted.

Your thighs squeezed together, blocked by his frame standing between them. Every movement he made caused your hips to brush, sending shocks up your spine. And shit could you feel him, he was a large man but the size of the tent brushing against your clothed core was downright ridiculous. No wonder his ego was so big, you absentmindedly thought.

A finger hooked one of the loops of your standard-issue pants. Price was looking at you, “Can I…?” He motioned down asking permission to discard the rest. To which you nodded, trying to hold back your eagerness. “Yeah go ahead.”

Price helped you out from your pants, letting them drop to the floor with a dull thud. He groaned as he caught eye of your underwear—a very embarrassing and very obvious wet spot coating the fabric. Fuck-you didn't realize that was there. You'd been so caught up in his hands you'd barely felt it. He shot you a knowing look, the corner of his lip twitched up.

“All this cause of me?” He asked smugly, circling a digit over the sodden fabric. You twitched, the contact making you bite down on your lip to keep from making a startled noise.

You glared at him, “Don’t fucking tease me.” You said, the embarrassment in your tone disguised as venom. He grinned, prick’ you thought. Price guided a finger over your clothed slit, leaning into the crook of your neck. “Never baby, just want to make things right with you.” He murmured into your skin.

Price tugged the fabric to the side, letting your slick lubricate his fingers. You shuddered, your hands holding onto him for dear life. “Fuck-” You choked out, your hips leaning into his hand. It felt infuriatingly good, the way his digit glided up and down your labia at a leisurely slow pace making you fein for more. He groaned as he watched you moan from the way he brushed his thumb over your clit.

“Atta girl, so good f’me.”

Oh.

You liked that. You'd never really paid attention to the gratification of someone praising you outside of an academic or professional level but at that moment you could tell that did something for you. And Price seemed to notice too.

He gently prodded at your entrance, earning a whine from your lips. “One finger or two?” He muttered, you could barely think let alone answer his question. What you did know was that you need more, “Two.” You said breathlessly.

A light chuckle reverberated off of him, “Greedy girl.” Price didn't wait and plunged two fingers into you slowly. You threw your head back as his thick digits stretched open the gummy walls of your core. “Fuck, look at you. So wet for me, so fucking sexy like this you know that?” You could only manage another choked whine as he mimicked the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers.

It was euphoric, the way he filled out your walls with his fingers alone. Slowly pressing the pads of his middle and ring up against the spongy spot inside you. You dug your nails into his shoulder, a silent scream fell from your lips. Price’s other hand holding the small of your back to support you. “Stay still,” He whispered into the shell of your ear, making you shudder.

You didn't listen, how could you? You could barely focus on what he was saying as it was, let alone when he was knuckle deep inside you.

When Price noticed you weren't listening he retracted his fingers, leaving you hollow. You whined, already craving the stretch of his fingers again. He rested his palm against your cunt, his digits barely tracing over your entrance. “Come on, I know you can listen, stay still for me yeah?” His voice vibrated against your neck and his beard brushed over the exposed skin. Making your body prickle with goosebumps.

“You're an asshole you know that?” You panted, going rigidly still. He smiled against you, his fingers plunging back into your wet heat. “And you're all bark and no bite, fuckin’ vixen. Always looking at me when you know you shouldn't, driving me insane all the time. Stubborn girl.”

You threw your head back, trying hard not to let your hips twitch or jerk. Your mouth fell open to let out a lustful moan that would've made anyone in the near vicinity blush.

Price continued, “You like driving me mad? Never fucking listening to me, arguing with me, riling me up.” He muttered, sliding his fingers in and out at a brutal pace. Making your cunt flutter, producing the most obscene sounds you ever heard from yourself. “Then you come in here all sexy asking me to kiss you. It's like you wanted this, wanted my fingers.”

You felt the burning fire in your core tighten and roar, “Price- slow down. M’gonna cum if you keep going.” You babbled, your nails leaving crescents on his bicep. Everything was happening so fast you couldn't keep track of what was going on.

Price’s fingers were rough, thick, they filled out the lining of your walls with ease. A thick fog started to cloud your mind, making the world almost blur. In. Out. In. Out. It was maddening, he wasn’t slowing and you were only growing more feverish.

He shook his head, his other hand leaving your hip to grab your chin. Forcing you to look into his eyes, an animalistic hunger written over his face. “No, you're going to cum on my fingers. Look at me while you do it, look at me while you soak my hand.” Price’s thumb circled over your clit, making you clench and pulse. A full-body shudder racking through you.

You came suddenly, unexpectedly. It was hard and fast, but in a way, it was like you were floating. Your muscles went rigid, your back curving, and your startled moan bounced off the walls of the office. It came in waves, crashing over you like the tide as he finger-fucked you through the orgasm. All the while staring directly into those familiar pools of blue and navy. Your pussy spasmed around his fingers.

After a minute you fell limp, like you'd just run miles, you panted. Hair falling in your face and wetness coating both his fingers and your inner thighs, the juices pooling onto the dark wood of the table. Price held your waist with one hand, letting you slump against his chest. It was peaceful bliss for a moment.

You caught your breath enough to sit up, meeting his gaze. His hand that held your waist moved to brush a few stray hairs falling over your eyes. The corners of Price’s lips pulled into a smile, and your heart stuttered, only a little though. “Have I made it up to you yet?” He murmured, the thickness of his voice could have melted your ears. Smooth like syrup but rugged enough to be devastatingly masculine.

“Apology accepted.” You breathed, trying not to sound too winded. It was too late to form any semblance of decency so the next best option was pretending he didn't single-handily give you the most toe-curling orgasm of your life. Easier said than done.

Price detached from you, walking over to one of his office drawers and pulling out a box of tissues. “Normally I'd have something better to clean you up with but these will do for now.” He said casually, pulling a few from the box and coaxing your legs back open to wipe down the mess. Somehow, you felt a blush spread across your cheeks.

This was so...domestic, sweet even, it wasn't like him. Then again, fingering you on his desk wasn't like him either but here you were. You both had crossed a line and there wasn't any going back, you swallowed. “Thanks, but uhm…what do we do now?” Frankly, it was a dumb question but you couldn't help asking.

He gave you a look, “What do you mean?” You squirmed under his gaze, trying not to look down at his warm hand brushing up against your inner thigh.

“Well, we can't exactly pretend like this didn't happen.” You clarified, watching as the wheels in his head turned. Price shrugged, “We can leave it at this if that's what you want. I think both of us are just on edge, y’know, the heat of the moment.”

Somehow his words didn't match his face, there was more that seemed to bellow beneath his tone. But rather than bringing it up, you thought about his words. This wasn't ever something you anticipated to happen but to your surprise, you didn't hate it. “What if we just kept it going?”

Price looked at you, his eyes widened a tad, the surprise written across his face doing more for your nerves than you were comfortable with. “Like- in the sense that you and I both have a lot of built-up tension and unresolved issues. But if this works to keep the peace why not give it a try? Discreetly of course.”

It was a beat before he responded, “Alright, but like you said, discreet. If anyone catches on this is done.”

You soared, why? You didn't know, it just felt like the best news you'd gotten in forever. But looking too deeply into that feeling was uncharted territory. Better off leaving it in the corner of your brain with all the other repressed emotions.

“Works for me.” You agreed, Price got up again to grab your poor clothes that had been flung across the room. Handing them back gingerly, he was nice enough to turn around as you reclothed yourself. There was a slight charge to the air, almost like static. It pricked at your skin, making you jumpy and nearly insecure. It was like you had reverted to a teenage girl.

He caught your gaze, and the unspoken tension and lingering awkwardness faded just a little. He gave you a nod, “I'll see you tomorrow for drills.”

You smiled just slightly, “See you.” Walking to the door and turning the handle, you forced yourself not to look back at him.

After shutting the door you breathed a sigh, brushing out your clothes and smoothing your hair of the lingering frizz. Getting cozy with your captain was not on your yearly bingo card, but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers. You absentmindedly thought about the implications of technically giving that stupid rumor some validity. But you were only human, a girl has to do what she has to do to get laid.

Discreetly, of course, you were great about being discreet. Yeah, easy peasy. All you had to do was make sure nobody found out.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

At first, you didn't really know what to expect when you first made the arrangement with Price about “solving the unresolved problems between the two of you.” But after a few weeks of working out frustrations ‘on’ each other, you could say with full confidence that this arrangement exceeded your expectations.

Not only had the genuine fights between you been on an extended hiatus, but it started to be replaced with playful banter. And when you weren't bantering or training or hanging out with the group, you were fucking. And boy was it something.

For one, Price was experienced, to say the least, he knew what to do and when to do it. He had mapped out your body and played it like a fiddle. And with your extent of mediocre lovers, it was like a breath of fresh air. And his body was nothing to sneeze at either, he had muscle allll the way down. Battle scars be dammed, everything just seemed to make him more appealing.

The only troubling part of the arrangement was keeping up the ruse and getting creative when it came to the actual action portion of it. But turns out that unconventional areas to have sex weren't as bad as they seemed. Office? Hell yeah. In the medical wing private rooms? Why not. In the showers and bathrooms? You only live once.

Unintentionally getting laid was also fixing your mood. Who knew an orgasm was a great way to fix an attitude problem? Well, at least most of your attitude problems.

You were outside running the trail that weaved its way around the base, at least once or twice a week Price would make you and the team run until you thought you would pass out. Something about endurance training. Running wasn't the worst thing but the harsh trail and uneven ground that zigzagged and dipped made you want to tear your hair out.

Your breath came out in small puffs, the cold air around you doing little to soothe the hot ache of your muscles. Your baby hairs stuck to your forehead and by the looks of it, you still had a few more miles left.

Jhonny ran beside you, his heavy breaths synchronous with yours. Up ahead was Gaz and Price and a few inches behind you was Ghost acting as caboose. You watched them run in front of you like you were studying a Peloton ad. Seriously, how the hell had they barely broken a sweat yet?? It was downright annoying how athletic they were.

“I swear, neither of them are human. Price just got cleared to run a week ago and he looks like he's having the time of his life.” You said between pants, next to you Soap laughed.

“Can’t say I disagree with ya’ there Bonnie, think he just does it for show at this point.” He said, his voice equally hoarse. From behind you, Ghost chimed in, “Maybe if you two stopped talking you'd actually catch up to them by now.”

You shot Ghost a glance over your shoulder, “People in glass houses.” You quipped, considering he was the caboose it was a little ironic. Not by much but still.

Soap grinned, “She’s right ain't she L.T.? Say, how's the arse of the train treating you? Got a nice view?”

Your laugh hurt, the air felt so thin but the pit of your stomach warmed. Talking while running (especially laughing) wasn't the smartest, but it was a distraction. Ghost swatted at the back of Soap’s head, cutting his laugh short.

From up ahead Price turned his head to look at you and Soap. “Two miles left, I’d suggest you save your stamina. If you fall behind on time you run extra.” He deadpanned. His voice barely sounded tired, the nerve.

You grimaced, “I think I’d prefer one of your medieval torture methods than running any longer.” Despite what you thought was an amusing comment Price didn't look enthused.

“That was a nice way of telling you and Jhonny to shut up, am I clear?” He said sternly, you held in your groan. Hookup buddy or not, Price was still annoying. “Clear.” You and Soap said in unison.

The rest of the path was spent in lingering silence. And by the time you reached base, you felt like you had one foot in the grave. You hunched over, your hands on your knees as you took in as many breaths as you could without it hurting. Had the air always been this thin?

Price was a few feet ahead, hands on his hips as he cooled off. His hair was slightly messy and his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He reached for his shirt and pulled it up to wipe his face, exposing the hard muscle and his happy trail. Dear lord. You watched him like a hawk, zeroing in on his abs as they expanded and decompressed with each breath.

He glanced your way, you were incredibly obvious so it was no surprise how his eyebrow twitched up and his lips pulled into a wry smile. “I did tell you to save your energy.” He commented quite smugly, referencing your current state.

You snapped out of the trance his abs had put you in, leaning back up and darting your eyes away. “I’m fine, just catching my breath. And for the record that felt way longer than normal, at this point, you just like to watch the team suffer.”

Price chuckled, crossing his arms. “Well someone’s bitter. But look, you did it and you came out fine. It's a win-win.”

You glared at him, unimpressed. “Sure, you work me like a dog until I inevitably die of overexertion and I get a paycheck in the mail that I'll never be able to spend because I'm dead. Win-win.” You said sarcastically. Price's lips tugged up, his mutton chops creating an almost teddy bear-like effect.

The corners of his eyes slightly crinkled, “Maybe you should've taken up drama instead of Military. Might fit you better.”

Your lips pursed into a line, Price was quick witted, but way too full of himself. It was a good thing you were there to keep his ego in line, you liked to think of yourself almost as the balancing act of the team. After all, there could only be so many cooks in the kitchen before things got rocky. “Good thing they don’t pay you for jokes.” You said, finally gaining back your breath.

Just as Price opened his mouth to give what was most likely a poor rebuttal a large hand patted your shoulder.

“[Name], pub tonight yeah?” It was Gaz. His beaming face almost made you squint. You took a minute to process his words, you were rarely one to inhabit the pubs on the outskirts of the base. But a brief memory of him and Jhonny asking you to go from earlier that morning cleared up your memory fog.

You cleared your throat and nodded, “Yeah- wouldn't miss it.” You said through your teeth. Gaz looked forward to Price, “You tagging along Price?”

You looked back at Price too, curious. He stood there a moment before sighing, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I will. Someone's got to keep the lot of ya’ in check.” Your spirit plummeted, the last time you were drunk in front of Price you started cursing at him like a drunken sailor. And you started kissing him in broad…daylight? Nightlight? Whatever. The point was, that you had zero self-control when you drank.

Heck, you barely had any self-control when it came to Price. You were on him any chance you got, and mixing two of your greatest temptations just sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Gaz smiled, ruffling your sweaty hair. “Great! We’ll leave after dinner, Price you're designated driver.” You forced yourself to smile back, giving a weak excuse for an ‘excited’ laugh.

“Great.” You said through your teeth, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Price gave him a nod as he walked off towards Soap and Ghost.

“Can’t wait.” You breathed to yourself.

Game plan: Don't drink and avoid Price at all costs. Simple enough. After all, it was just a pub, how bad could it be?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Spoiler Alert: Bad. It could be bad.

In the first thirty minutes of being at the shabby pub, you'd broken your first rule by getting roped into a drinking game with Jhonny. Not the smartest of decisions by far that you made. But it did take off the edge, now the orange lighting and the peeling paint on the walls seemed quaint instead of creepy.

The warmth in your stomach buzzed with a low frequency that made you giddy. And you hadn't paid for any of your drinks courtesy of Jhonny. Things may have been turning out for the better if you stayed on your A game. But unsurprisingly you failed to do so.

You sat on one of the barstools, a classic marg in hand with the salted rim and fancy lime slice on the glass. Ghost was sitting next to you while you both watched Jhonny trying to sweet-talk some poor girl from across the bar. Price sat a few chairs down next to Gaz, wrapped up in a conversation with the old bartender. Slowly, you felt yourself getting cozy.

And you were drunk enough that you merely hummed along with the maroon 5 reruns that played in the background.

“I got fifteen on the girl slappin’ him by the end of the night.” Ghost said as you watched the scene unfold.

You couldn't help but let an unabashed giggle slip from your lips. “Honestly I can't tell if she wants to take him home or take him to the local station for harassment charges.” Ghost grunted in agreement.

The girl gingerly took another sip of her drink as Soap talked to (at) her. Earning another hearty laugh from both You and Ghost. After another minute of people-watching Ghost patted the bar table, fishing a pack from inside of his cargo pocket. “Alright, I’m taking five’ I'll be outside.” He said as he got up.

You frowned but nodded, your gossip buddy was gone which was annoying. But instead of dwelling on it, you took another sip of your marg. The tequila burned your throat in a sickly sweet way, it wasn't the best drink you'd ever had but it did the job. Mid-drink you felt someone else walk up behind you, without warning someone slid into the empty stool next to you.

“This seat taken?” You didn't recognize the voice, it was masculine but it didn't sound like any of the guys. You looked to your side, it was a guy. He looked to be taller, with pale skin, sandy brown hair, and dark eyes. He wasn't about to be on a magazine cover but he definitely wasn't hard to look at.

You didn't quite know what to say, “uh…yeah, I suppose by you.” It was a lame response but he did kinda already sit himself down.

He smiled, white teeth, a little crooked but nobody's perfect. He had a good jaw, not clean-shaven but it made him look a bit more approachable. “That’s good to hear,” he was holding a drink, a gin-and-coke by the looks of it. “I saw you and your friend playing that drinking game earlier, pretty impressive, didn't think you'd be able to keep up.”

You gave a bit of an awkward laugh, unsure of what to make of the situation. But friendly conversation wasn't off the table, and the mystery man seemed nice enough. “Yeah, I guess I did, thanks. You uh- you done anything like that before?”

Mystery man shook his head, “No I can't hold my ale. I prefer to let the professionals handle that.” You laughed, finding the comment a little ridiculous.

“I’d hardly call myself a professional.” You replied, taking another sip of your drink. His eyes dipped down to your lips, watching as you raised the glass to your mouth and swallowed. But, they quickly averted back to your eyes.

“I don't know, I would hardly classify you as intermediate. I would buy you a drink but I'm not sure that much to drink in one night is healthy.” He said smoothly, leaning one elbow against the counter.

Buy you a drink? Okay, maybe a bit too friendly. But maybe he was just being nice, people buy strangers drinks all the time. You nodded, “Oh that's nice of you. Yeah, I'd say after this I’ll call it quits.” You said, raising your marg.

He hummed and nodded, licking his lips. “Hopefully you're not too drunk, right?” Something about his tone you didn't like, it was like he was teasing you.

You averted your eyes, “Uh hopefully not. Just buzzed for now, I’ll probably feel the brunt of it later.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Did you drive here yourself?” Okay, what was with all the questions? You weren't sure if that was a courteous thing to ask or just downright nosy.

You shook your head, “No someone drove me.” You said simply, keeping it short and sweet. Maybe then he'd get the vibes you were putting off. He hummed, his eyes drilling into you like one of those toy lasers.

“Are you going home with anyone?” He asked, you almost choked on your drink. What was with this guy? How did you go from drinking the game two seconds ago to this??

He cut you off before you had the chance to say anything, “Because if not, I’d be willing to drive you back. Free of charge, of course.”

Free of charge my ass.

The actual charge probably consisted of a blow job in the back seat of his Toyota Corolla. Or white van, you were still figuring out the vibes on this guy.

You were stunned to speak, absolutely dumbfounded by the lack of social cues. It was like walking into the shallow end of a pool only to step into eight feet of water. To make it worse he reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Come on, don't leave me hanging. What do you say?”

Pound!’

Something hard hit the counter, making both your drinks wobble. You swiveled your head towards the noise, and low and behold your second greatest desire now stood between you and the mystery guy. Price.

His fist on the counter cut the conversation short as well as all the noise around him. Creating an oh-so-silent bar. The mystery man retracted his hand like he'd been scorched by an open flame. Looking up at Price with a bewildered expression, “What the fuck man?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

Price looked down at him, his expression unmoving. “Apologies, but I think it's time you go bother another person. Particularly one that isn't a part of my team.”

Whatever thoughts of arguing that the mystery man had immediately died as Price crossed his arms, puffing himself out like a bird when ruffling its feathers. You looked at both of them incredulously, sure you were glad Price came to the rescue but you could've handled it yourself. You didn't need him to come barreling through like a charging rhino to handle something you didn't even ask him to do.

You looked around to see everyone's heads turned in your direction, looking between Price and the other guy. Suddenly the alcohol in your stomach turned sour, and you felt your cheeks grow hot from the unwanted attention.

“Jeez, look I wasn't looking for any trouble. I didn't know she had a man, my bad.” He said, holding his hands up in surrender. Price didn't budge, guarding you like a stone wall. “Then off you go.” He said sternly.

The mystery guy nodded, sliding out from the barstool and walking past you and back to the table where he came from. The pub started to go back to normal, people picking up where they left off. Price turned back to you, his posture deflating a little. He looked down at you, and from the way you were looking back at him, he immediately knew something was amiss. “What?” He asked.

Your eyebrows slid lower on your face, your lips pursing into a tight frown. “What do you mean ‘what?’ What the fuck was that?” You whisper shouted at him, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

Price looked at you like you were crazy, a frown on his lips. “The bloke was touching you, you think I'm just going to stand by and let him paw at you?” He asked defensively.

Oh please. He barely even touched your face. It wasn’t great, but, it didn’t warrant Price making a whole spectacle. Especially not in front of the team, let alone a group of spectators. You looked back at Gaz, who was staring directly at you, then at Jhonny, who went back to talking to the girl.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” You signed, not wanting to be in earshot of Gaz who was most definitely eavesdropping. Friend or not, he couldn't know any more than he already did, the bastard was perceptive enough as it was.

Price glanced at Gaz and then back to you, his jaw working with tension. “Fine.” He huffed, you were a bit taken aback by the irritability in his tone. Why was he so mad now? He was the one who caused the scene. Nonetheless, you slipped out of the bar and followed Price as he stormed off.

You weaved through tables and people, trying your best to squeeze by without knocking into anything. Price walked into an emptier hallway that led to the restrooms. It was one of those creepy hallways with no overhead lights and weird pictures strung across the walls. You eyed the peeling wallpaper, it was like you'd stepped into a time capsule. Warm light poured from the main area of the bar, casting an orange hue against you and Price that was cut off by shadows.

He turned back to you, the furrow in his brow knitting the skin in between. He looked sexy. The thought popped into your mind before you had the sense to block it out. While very true you had to stand your ground. A hot man and some liquor in your system would not sway your resolve. (Maybe it could sway it a little.) focus!

“What was that? You charging up to that guy and slamming your fist on the counter.” You asked folding your arms over your chest.

Price leaned against the opposite wall, facing you. “I didn't charge up to him, I simply made it clear that he crossed a line.” He said defiantly. You raised a brow, unsure of what to make of the blanket statement.

“What line?” You asked, to which Price scoffed.

“He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and don't think I didn't hear the way he was interrogating you. Come off it [Name], I know you're not stupid, you could see clear as I could what that fucker wanted.” He spat.

You exhaled, either the liquor was catching up to you or it was starting to get hot. “Well yeah, but he barely did anything, and that hardly warranted you taking matters into your own hands.” You defended, “-I could have just told him to fuck off or something. I didn't need you charging in like a bull and letting the entire bar know.”

You watched Price’s hand bawl into a fist, flexing the strain in his neck as he glared down at you. “What else was I supposed to do? Politely ask him to leave? When he's got his dirty hands on you like that-” He groaned, wiping his face with one hand.

“I'm not defenseless, I don't need you to rescue me.” You retorted, your hands holding your arms tighter to your chest.

Price rolled his eyes, “I know that. Don’t get smart with me.” He said pointing a finger your way, his mouth curling into a small snarl. “You don't get it, watching him practically undressing you with his eyes. It was fucking aggravating to watch- the way he looked at you.”

You were a bit surprised that he caught on to that, but you didn't feel like he was undressing you with his eyes per se. More like just intently staring, you pushed his accusatory finger down. “You're exaggerating, and you don't even know what he was thinking.” You tried to reason.

Price looked at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else back down. But you didn't, as Jhonny once commented, you had the rather: “Fucking idiotic tendency to never be scared of Price.” What could you say? You liked a challenge.

He took a step forward, making you take one back. Your back hit the wall of the hallway. Like a caged animal, you were trapped. “I know exactly what he's thinking.” Price snarled, he grabbed your face. The rough pads of his fingers pressed into your hollow cheeks, his hand was so big it dwarfed your lower jaw.

“-Because I fucking think of the exact same things when I look at you.” His voice was harsh and low, sending ripples through your spine like shock waves. Price’s hand forced your face up so it was locked dead onto his, making you look into his eyes shadowed by the darkness. Flecks of light caught on his face, against his beard and jaw. If anyone were to walk into the hallway, it may have looked like Price was about to devour you like a starving carnivore.

You shuddered, he was so close it was driving your senses crazy. You could smell him, taste the venom in his voice, and God did it turn you on. You wanted more, you wanted to push his buttons. It felt good to drive him to the point of fury, to watch him slowly lose his composure. Years of hard discipline and mental strength all crumbling within minutes, and you wanted to watch.

“I don’t care if every man on the planet looks at me that way. I'm not yours, you don't get to put a claim on me. And you sure as hell don't get to make a scene in front of the entire bar and the team.” You spat back. Like an open flame, the wildfire between you and Price only seemed to burn brighter, faster, harder.

“-And what happened to being discrete huh? Last time I checked, scaring off any guy who looks in my direction isn't discrete.” You pried.

Price scowled down at you, his breathing starting to grow more labored. His hand clenched your face more forcefully, not enough to hurt but enough that you couldn't move. “You're right. You don't belong to me, but I am still your Captain, and you answer to me. Not to Gaz, or Jhonny, or Ghost. Not to some stupid prick who just wants a quick fuck. Me.”

Price was slowly getting angrier, to be honest, you rarely saw him this pissed. But deep down, it kind of did something to you. Knowing that you were the cause of his anger.

It was an ache that settled deep within your bones, making your blood coarse red hot. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was something more. Either way, you didn't care, you just needed to feel the satisfaction of breaking his ressolve. Stripping him of every facet that made him a man and revealing the primitive monster that lied underneath.

Your eyes narrowed into slits, “Fuck you Price.”

There was a beat of silence that stretched for far too long. It was so quiet you could almost feel the way your heart hammered in your chest. You made hard eye contact with him, watching the way his eyes widened and how his irises scanned over the expanse of your face.

“Fuck me?” He spoke, his voice hard and breathy. His hand forced your face up, straining the muscles in your neck. The back of your head was pressed into the hard wall with firm pressure. And to your surprise, the corner of his lip turned up into an amused smile. “Fuck me huh?” He repeated, and as suddenly as it appeared, his smile dropped.

“Fuck you.” He spat, surging forward into a clash of tongue, teeth, and lips. You quickly grabbed at his head, twisting your fingers through his hair. Your arms wrapped around him like a constricting snake.

The kiss was so rough you didn't even know if it could be classified as a kiss really. His body practically slammed into you, pinning you to the wall like a fly caught in a spider's web. One of his hands still clutched your face while the other was pressed flat into the wall beside your head. You heard one of the pictures that was hung on the wall next to you clatter to the ground. Everything seemed to fade into the background, all that mattered was the man who was currently pinning you to the wall.

Price was kissing you like a man starved. You forgot where you were, what you were doing, and why you felt so angry in the first place.

You distantly felt his hands move down to roughly cup your ass and then the back of your thighs. Price hoisted you up, trapping you between the wall and himself. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, grinding your hips against his. You groaned as you felt his tented pants against your clothed core, he was hard as a rock.

Your hands raked down the expanse of his back, fisting the soft cotton of his shirt between your fingers. Price took a few steps back, holding you to his chest still. His back hit the other wall with a thud, making the other pictures rattle. He kept maneuvering around like a blind man until his back hit the door to one of the bathrooms. It gave way to his weight, swinging backward.

“Price what-” Your words were cut off by another open-mouthed kiss. You returned it just as eagerly, maybe asking what he was doing could wait another minute. Price’s back hit the door again, one of his hands scrambling for the lock. He carried you across the empty bathroom, bouncing off the walls and counters as you went.

He managed to open the door to the last stall tucked away in the corner. Slamming against the stall you kissed him like an animal, clawing at his back and rolling your hips into his.

After another minute you pulled away for a breath, panting like you'd just swam up for air. His breath fanned your lips, thick with his taste and your mixed spit. The dingy bathroom was poorly lit, casting everything inside it in a dark light. You swallowed, “What are we doing in here?” You panted.

Price’s hands squeezed your ass, “Making sure nobody else can see what I'm about to do to you.” His voice was heavy and thick, like molasses sugar. The richness of it clouded your senses, making you loopy. Without warning he pulled you off him, setting you down on your feet with a hand tangled in your hair.

“On the ground.” He spoke, more of a command than anything.

You blinked, either it was the round of drinks or just his effect on you but the words barely processed. “What?” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting together.

Price gave your head a sharp yank, a surprised gasp slipping past your lips. His thick digits curled around your hair tighter, pulling your scalp taunt. “I said on the ground, I know you can listen to me.” He said, his voice was rough now, scratching against your eardrums like sandpaper. You knew you were in far too deep to back out now. (Not that you wanted to). So, you obeyed, much like an animal self domesticating itself to survive.

Your knees pressed into the cool, hard tile. Price still held your hair, craning your neck up to look him in the eyes. You saw it, the small restraint he always held, like a second face he wore around everyone else- it was gone. There was pure, unabashed want in his eyes. You felt your lungs deflate, the breath leaving your body. Hands that held his thighs dug into his jeans, an unspoken message that screamed ‘go.’

The adams apple in his throat bobbed, and Price’s other hand migrated to his belt. Gradually he unclasped the silver belt buckle, “You’re a smart girl [Name]. I know you didn't just say all of that before cause’ you wanted to prove a point to me.” He spoke, sliding the leather band open and pushing the top button of his pants through the slit. “-I know you're not that fucking stupid. So tell me…why did you? Just to get under my skin? To rile me up?”

Your throat ran dry, eyes glued to his fingers as they slid down the zipper. Preening to watch the way his boxers spilled out of the narrow opening. Price yanked your head back again with a sharp yelp on your part.

“Look at me. Not my cock, you'll have plenty of time to look at it later.” He breathed, pools of navy boring in your eyes. His pupils dilated, the soft red that colored his cheeks and ears doing little to soothe the roaring flame that burned between your legs.

You were at a loss for words, to be honest, you weren't completely sure why either. A sense of curiosity? It was hard to put into speech, “I…I wanted to see what you'd do.” You answered, making his eyebrow twitch up.

“Thats all? Not because you have a fascination with me? With fucking with my goddamn head. You don't like driving me insane?” He spat, palming a hand over himself. Your eyes flicked down, watching the fabric of his briefs stretch over the bulge.

You swallowed, looking at him tentatively. “I wanted to see the real you. Not the front, not the put-together Captain. You.”

A silence hung in the air, one that casted a thick layer of tension between you. Price’s lips turned upwards, a darkly amused chuckle echoing through the empty bathroom. “You already had me, baby.” He reached his hand into his briefs, pulling out his thick cock. He groaned, rubbing his hand up and down his appendage, “Fucking temptress that's what you are. You want me to not hold back, is that it? To fuck you stupid?”

You couldn't take your eyes off him even if you'd wanted to. No matter how many times you saw his dick it never got old, all you could do was marvel at it. He was big, and more importantly, he was thick. You watched his hand stroke the peachy skin, watching the heaviness of its girth and the reddened mushroom tip that beaded with milky pre-cum.

Price laughed, eyeing the way you looked at him like a starving animal. “This what you wanted? What all the fuss was about?” You couldn't help but nod, wetting your lips just at the sight. “-Tell me you want it. That you want me to fuck your throat raw.” He spoke, Price held himself just out of reach. Like a cat with a feathery toy, you were completely entranced.

You nodded, “Price fuck my throat.” The words sounded so odd coming from your mouth, so raw and crude it almost surprised you.

Price gave your head a small tug, a satisfactory grin on his face. He looked down at you, nodding his head to you as if to say ‘Go ahead.’ You could barely contain yourself as your hands slid around his cock, feeling the burn of hot skin beneath your palms. He was so thick your one hand almost couldn't wrap around his girth, two hands would have to do the job.

The weight of his length felt good, oh yeah, and not to mention that he was harder than a metal pole. Hastily you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over the bulbous tip.

Price’s head fell back against the stall door, his hips twitched forward. A hearty groan fell from his parted lips. The hand in your hair gave you an encouraging squeeze. You hummed, letting the vibrations from your voice reverberate off his dick. He tasted like skin, musky and salty, leaving an earthy kind of aftertaste that clung to your tongue like syrup.

You separated with a lewd ‘pop, watching the muscles in Price’s neck strain. Dipping your head you licked a stripe up his cock, coating the length in a thin layer of spit. One hand stroked him up and down while the other dug into his thigh, leaving small crescents into the fabric of his pants. Beads of pre-cum spilled out from the small slit of his tip, you let your thumb swipe over the head generously lubing up his base.

Price’s hands tightened in your hair, “Fuck- that's it. Just like that pretty girl.” He panted, earning a pleased hum from your lips.

Without warning you took his cock back into your mouth, sinking down the furthest you could without gagging. The gummy walls of your throat tightened around the foreign object, accompanied by a wet gulping noise. You inhaled through your nostrils, trying your best to take him further.

Price cursed loudly, the sound of his voice bouncing across the tile walls. His cock twitched in your mouth. You moved your head down then forward, repeating the motion until you found a steady rhythm of bobbing down on his dick. What your mouth couldn't reach your hand made up for, squeezing and stroking faster and faster. He was so wound up you could practically feel the tension under his skin.

You pulled off of him, your mouth agape as you panted. Spit and other fluid gleamed against your lips like a gloss. Price looked down at you, confusion written across his face with a tad of concern.

“Are you okay?” He said through heavy breaths, to which you nodded. However, you shot him a stern look.

“You're holding back.” You panted, staring at him with a knowing glare. Price looked at you, unsure of how to respond to your accusatory tone. “-I said-Fuck. My. Throat.”

His face hardened, and the same animalistic gleam came back. “Fine. You want me to let go? I can let go.”

That was all it took before his hand wrapped around your hair like a rope. Pushing you down his cock inch by fucking inch. He moaned through his teeth, “Fuck- you know what to do if it gets to be too much.” He said breathlessly. It was true, you did know you always had an out, but this was way more fun.

Your jaw went slack to accommodate him, the stretch of him down your throat sending full-body shivers down your spine. Then he started to move. Your hands found his thighs, digging your nails into his pants.

Price made good on his promise, fucking your throat like it was his life’s goal. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you almost gag, hot tears stung your eyes. It was rough and desperate, he used your throat like he hated your guts. And you couldn't help but love every second of it, you managed to crack him. The hard shell he kept, and the walls he built up, were slowly crumbling down.

Then, as quickly as he pushed you down he pulled you off of him. You sucked in a desperate breath, making a small noise of confusion. You stared at Price with a quizzical look, one that bordered on ‘wtf??’

Price looked wrecked, his hair tussled and cheeks tinged red. Small beads of sweat trickled down his temples, but he smiled. “I'm sorry baby, did you want me to keep going?” He exhaled, an almost pitying aspect to his tone. The hand in your hair slid down to cup your chin, a rough thumb swiping over your puffy bottom lip.

“Why’d you stop?” You frowned up at him, and try as you might the disappointment in your voice was clear as day.

Price cupped your jaw, forcing your head back further. “Because as much as I love your mouth, I would much rather cum in that beautiful cunt of yours.”

You tried not to choke, refusing to give him the satisfaction that his words sent whole body shivers through you. But, it did sound heavenly, so you nodded and let him help you to your feet again. From there he guided you up against the stall, your palms flat on the cool door.

Price’s chest went flush with your back, his face tucked into where your shoulder met your neck. His hot breath fanned against you and the hairs of his scruff tickled your skin. Thick hands found your hips, sliding to your crotch to unzip your pants. You tried not to let your breath hitch as he palmed a hand over your clothed cunt.

“Jesus- this wet for me already? Haven't even touched you yet, but here you are, soaking your panties like a slag.” Price murmured into your nape, and even though you couldn't see it, you could feel his smirk.

You bit down on your cheek, “Big talk from someone who could barely keep it together while getting a simple blowy.” Your pants slid down and a sharp blow was delivered to your behind. You yelped, caught off guard by the harsh slap.

“Careful.” He murmured, his voice reverberating off the shell of your ear. Your eyes stung with tears as the burning sting of his mark cooled into a low ache. “-We don't have a whole day for you to think of a good comeback before someone comes knocking on that door. So I’d try to cooperate unless you want me to leave you high and dry. Which I'm perfectly fine with doing.”

Liar. He was bluffing, but Price was just as stubborn as you were and would most definitely make you wait an unseemly amount of time just to cum. So, for once in your life, you listened.

Trying to bite back your moans, you stood statue-still as Price tugged the offending garment to the side. Two fingers slid along your folds before plunging inside with a wet squelch. “Fuck, you're tight. You sure you can take me?” He breathed, and you threw your head back into his chest. He fingered you slowly, mapping out every crevice and dip with the pads of his fingers.

It wasn't enough. You needed more, “Price if you don't fuck me right now, I swear to god, I will do it myself.” Okay, so maybe that sounded a little bit more desperate than intimidating, but it got the message across.

You felt his breathy chuckle against your ear, and suddenly, his fingers slipped out of you. “Yes ma'am,” he said. However, the empty void left by his fingers was soon replaced by the burning contact of his cock against your swollen folds. Price groaned as he slid himself back and forth, gathering up your slick to use as lube.

A shudder ran down your spine, your palms pressing against the door harder. You pushed your hips back against him, earning another pleased hum from your Captain. You could barely breathe, there was a burning tension that ate away at your core. Like a rope stretched too tight, all you could do was wait for it to snap apart.

His tip slowly slipped inside your hole, the burning stretch of his girth sending the hairs at the back of your neck up. Inch by inch he seethed himself into you, “Price-holy fuck.” You moaned, even with how wet you were, no amount of lube would ever fully prepare you for the sheer mass of him.

Price drew you in, letting your walls stretch and mold to his dick. His hands grabbed at your hip and lower stomach, holding you in place. His beard brushed against your collar as he placed a few nipping kisses on your neck. “I know baby, I know, taking me so fuckin’ well. Shit, this pussy was made for me.” He murmured into your sweaty skin.

Without warning, his hips drew back only to snap forward again. You couldn't help the unseemly moan that fell from your lips, he pounded into your cunt like it was his last day alive. The sloppy sounds of skin echoed through the room.

“Oh my god- Price.” You choked out, the side of your face pressed against the door. “-feels so good.” You panted between wet slaps as his hips drove into your behind. You could barely think over the sound of your moans, each second that his dick plunged back into your sopping pussy felt like sparks being lit inside of you.

He moaned, his voice resounding across the shell of your ear. A hand snaked its way up your stomach and cupped your neck like a choker necklace. His skin burned, thick fingers curling around your scruff. It didn't hurt but it was firm, making you pliant to his body. “That's it. Take my cock, let me fuck you like the slut you are.” He grid out, “-this pussy knows what she wants, and it's me. Nobody else can fuck you like I do. Nobody else can give you what you need, what you deserve.”

Your cunt fluttered around him, causing his hips to stutter before driving back into you with so much force your hips hit the door.

Knock knock knock’

You're body went rigid, and all the air in your lungs seemed to escape your ribs. Fuck! You had totally forgotten that you were in a public bathroom for Christ's sake. Price had locked the door, but that didn't mean people wouldn't try and come in.

Knock knock knock!’

It was louder this time, more impatient. You tried to look back at Price, but his hand on your neck held your head still. He wasn't stopping.

“Not so fast girly, I’d like to finish what I started.” He chuckled, angling his hips as he slammed back into your cunt. The head of his cock nuzzled against the spongy muscle of your g-spot. You were so caught off guard you didn't have time to cover the absolutely shameless moan that slipped from your lips.

Price groaned, and his cock twitched. “Fuuckk that's it, let them hear you. Let everyone know how good I'm making you feel, how good I'm fucking this pussy.” You could barely process his words, everything was starting to build up to the point you were almost seeing stars. “-Come on baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He panted through firm thrusts.

A sharp cry rang through the empty walls, you saw white. Body pulsing as the waves of euphoria washed over your body like the tide. Each thrust sending new shocks down your spine, prolonging every second of your orgasm. Price’s hips stuttered, a loud curse ringing from his lips as he came inside you.

What followed was an extended silence that was filled with heavy pants. You could barely stand, Price’s chest flush with your back, his head leaning against your shoulder.

“Think they got the message?” Price mused, his voice thick with exhaustion. You couldn't help the laugh that rose from your chest, listening in for another knock. When none came you sighed, “Guess so.” You breathed.

After another minute of rest Price pulled off of you, leaving a trail of cum seeping down your thigh. Not to mention your sweaty back and all-around messy appearance. Price simply grinned at you when you shot him a nasty glare, using some toilet paper to clean up the fluids. “Whoops.” He shrugged.

It was a good thing you were on the pill, you might've slapped him if otherwise. He chuckled and pressed a ‘sorry’ kiss to your temple, “Come on soldier, you look like you've been through a war.” He quipped. You didn't even try to laugh at that one.

“Funny.” You said sarcastically, but once he opened the door after redressing you, you froze. The reflection in front of you looked well…like you had just been fucked in a bathroom stall. Small bites and hickeys littered your neck, poking up to where it was obvious to see. You hit his shoulder, “You dumbass, I look like I've been attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes! What the hell is the team going to think Mr. Designated Driver?”

Price looked at your reflection too, scratching the back of his neck. “We’ll find you a coat.” He settled on.

There was a small beat of silence, you looked back at him. “A coat, and I get to skip running drills for next week. Then you're forgiven.”

He looked back at you, “Deal.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You really shouldn’t have been doing this. It was stupid, completely idiotic. (maybe not as stupid as hooking up with your captain in a pub bathroom.) But alas, John Price could charm you into anything.

The cold night air of autumn nipped at your nose, making your face feel numb. Somehow you still felt the breeze blow through your bones while bundled up in a large coat and scarf. Hands in your pockets, you tried your best to walk inconspicuously through the small town streets next to the base.

It was late, past lights out. Just minutes before you were getting ready for bed. However, when Price called you up out of the blue asking for you to meet him for a night walk, curiosity got the best of you. To say it was odd would be an understatement, but you knew better than to pass up the opportunity. The nightlife in the little town was pretty nice, with Halloween now in full swing and all.

Small pumpkins and candles littered the ground while stores and bars were strung with purple and green lights. For a second you almost forgot you were supposed to be meeting Price. You checked your phone, reading over his message again.

[Captain]: The place is by the park, on 82th Ave. It’s an outdoor pop-up, festive. You can't miss it.

You looked over at one of the street signs, 79th Ave, it said. At least you were getting closer, directions weren't really your strong suit so all you could really do was hope for the best.

If anyone saw you out of base, especially with Price you’d 100% raise a few eyebrows not to mention you'd be in deep trouble. So you dipped your head as low as it could go to conceal your identity. Was this behavior one of a paranoid schizophrenic? It was possible. But after the phesasco at the bar, you were okay with being weary.

You heard a soft crowd of voices coming from a distance away. Walking towards it you saw a playground lit up with small lights, two children with what looked like their parents chasing them across the woodchips. More adults walking around the greener outskirts of the ground, laughing and holding dogs on leashes.

It stirred something good inside you, like a warm feeling that you didn't often get. You stopped walking, just watching the scene play out like a domestic storybook.

“Took you long enough.”

You jumped, whipping around to see the deep voice behind you. Standing there was Price, dressed in a thick coat with worn-out jeans. He held two plastic cups in his hands, steam rising off the mystery substance inside.

“You scared me,” You deadpanned. Your eyes went from the drinks in his hands back to his face. “-What’s with the cups?”

Price rolled his eyes, nodding behind him to the pop-up stand. “It’s cold, so I got you something to warm up.” He handed you one, which you accepted. Raising it to your nose, you sniffed the steam. It was warm, thick with spices, and sweet. You looked back at Price with a quizzical look, to which he smiled. “It’s cider.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. “Not the spiked kind I hope.” Holding the cup a bit away from you like it was radioactive. Price's eyes crinkled, chuckling as he shook his head.

“No, not spiked. We've got drills in the morning, I wouldn't do that to you.” With his confirmation, you took a sip, pulling your scarf down so you could drink. The hot liquid burned your tongue, but the flavor was worth it as it slid down into your stomach. Your eyes flickered up from the rim of the cup, looking at Price.

His eyes were on you, looking at you with a rare kind of softness. But after the split second of eye contact, he was the first to look away. You wiped your lips of the remaining sweetness, “Price what are we doing here?” You asked.

He cocked an eyebrow, “I thought I told you we were going on a night walk.” He said nonchalantly, earning a half-grunt on your part.

“I know that, but why am I here? I doubt that you're incapable of walking alone.” You pointed out, but Price just shrugged.

“Good company.” He said serrupticously, a wry smile stretched onto his lips. “-Are you really that averse to spending time with me? I'd hope after all this time spent together I wouldn't need a reason to want to be around you.” Price started walking, and out of instinct, you followed behind him until you were shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

“You're a bad lair.” You said, taking another sip of your cider. You watched the calm nightlife and a thought bubbled into your mind. Maybe to an onlooker you and Price probably looked like a couple just going on a stroll. It wasn't rocket science to see that there was a fraction of tension between you. Your cheeks pinked at the thought, but you pushed it away as soon as it came.

Price was also looking at the surrounding people, an odd look on his face. Something akin to yearning or want. He must've felt your stare because he spoke up. “Inquiring minds?”

You averted your eyes, “Sorry.” To which he shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

“Don't bother, it’s fine.” He said cooly, his eyes fixed on a family standing a few feet away. You looked back at them then back to Price. A dawning washing over you in an instant. Your eyes furrowed in question.

“You uh… have a family?” Jesus that sounded choppy, you cringed at yourself. He looked at you a little surprised but shook his head.

“I mean sure. Everyone does, at least at one point. But if you're asking if I do currently then no.” You nodded, feeling a little bad for asking. It wasn't too uncommon in your field, but it still put a grim mood in the air. You tried thinking of ways you could rectify it.

“So…no crazy ex-wife or estranged children that I need to be worried about?” You said humorously, when Price smiled, a part of you sighed in relief.

He shook his head again, glancing at you. “No ex-wife or estranged children, no.” You smiled and nodded, but that raised another question.

“How come?” you asked simply.

He shot you a pointed look, “You're asking me that like I'm ancient. I'm not that much older than you are,” He breathed. “-But if you have to know I guess I just never had the time. It's a bit testy trying to form long-term connections with people when you're in this line of work.”

You nodded in understanding, he was right. The long deployments, chances of not coming back, weird hours, it all would put a strain on a relationship. It didn't stop some, however, sometimes after not seeing the good in humanity for so long you lose the ability to connect with anyone. Especially ‘normal’ people.

Your mind flashed to an old ex-boyfriend who used to talk at length about how cool it was that you got to “kill people for a living.” You didn't see it that way. Desensitized or not, it was still a human life you were taking, it took a toll, even if you were getting paid for it.

“I get that. It's hard to commit to someone you don't get to see most of the time.” You shrugged, a part of you wanted to ask about every relationship he'd ever had. More importantly how you fared against them. And for some odd reason, you felt uncomfortable knowing that he had been with other women. Maybe it was just basic biology or primitive instinct.

Price nodded, “If I could I would've.” He glanced back at the family, watching as the dad swept up his toddler into a hug. It was bittersweet, the way Price looked at the display, dangerously pulling at your heartstrings.

You gave him a weary smile, “There’s still time. Like you said, you're not ancient. Why not just retire and settle down with someone?”

Price looked back at you for a split second, not saying anything. He looked back out at the dark trees, the leaves rustling in the cold wind, and the lights that wrapped around the park. “Maybe at one point that was an option, but not now. I'm not cut out for it, my life is here. I'm no good at civilian shit, so I best stick to what I know.”

You didn't know what to say to that, it was a tough pill to swallow. It was silent for a few seconds. But, You nudged your shoulder with his, “Well then, I guess you're stuck with me.” Offering a somewhat awkward smile to go along with it.

Price looked down at you as he walked, his blue eyes were dark like the ocean. You didn't want to look away, you wanted to swim in his thoughts, drown yourself in his pools of navy grey. Eyes that housed so much hostility and venom towards you now bore into your own with a warmth that struck you like a match. His lips turned up, “Guess there are worse places to be.”

Your smile came back, and the mood between you ebbed into a lighter, happier atmosphere. Taking a last swig of your cider you shook your head, “You guess? Need I remind you who asked me to be here?”

Price chuckled, doing the same and tossing his empty cup into a nearby garbage. “Alright, you win. I am grateful you came, like I said, all in good company.”

The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, and you and Price walked around the park. You watched as more and more people slowly started to dwindle, leaving it emptier than when you got there. After doing a sort of loop you both agreed to start walking back to base, and so you did. Shoulder to shoulder you walked with him through the small streets and shops.

Once you started coming up on the familiar large building a strong gust of air hit you. Your eyes shut tightly and your nose scrunched. When you did open your eyes back up Price was looking at you, you stared back at him. “What?”

Price snickered, “Wind got you pretty good. There's a leaf in your hair.” He pointed out, to which you blindly started to try and fish out said leaf. He shook his head at your feeble efforts, stopping your hands.

“I’ll get it. You're just messing it up.” He breathed, carefully his large hands combed through your head. Plucking out a pine leaf and a small fuzz, “There.” He said proudly.

He flicked the unwanted objects off to the side, but one of his hands never left your hair. He was almost holding your face in his palm, you blinked up at him. Wondering why he wasn't letting you go, “Is there something else?” You asked.

Price looked at you, licking his lips before pursing them in a line. Slowly he shook his head, “No.” It was silent for another beat, the soft puffs of your breath visible in the cold. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed.

“Tell me you don't want me to kiss you.” He breathed.

Without a second thought, you shook your head no, “Price kiss me.” It was almost alarming to you how naturally it came out. You barely even processed your own words.

And as his lips met yours in a chaste, soft kiss, you let yourself melt into him. You let him in.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You had five months until your time with 141 came to an end. In that time you had managed to befriend the whole team, make enemies with your captain, kiss said Captain, go on to have a very explicit no-strings-attached relationship with him, and now…this.

What was ‘this?’ Well, you didn't really quite know yourself. But after that night when he kissed you outside of base without any intention of hooking up with you, your clear-cut relationship with him became a jumbled mess of suppressed emotion. No longer were intimate gestures limited to sexual encounters, in fact, they were frequently more domestic.

Was this all of Price’s doing? No. It was both, both of you were an intimacy-starved mess. But you couldn't help it, his private quarters were so nice and his king-sized bed seemed to fit both of you nicely on the nights you couldn't sleep. And what of it that you helped him with paperwork into the wee hours of the night? He hated being stuck up in his office alone, it was a kind gesture. Now you didn't even have to make your morning tea and coffee because whenever you made your way into the small break room a fresh cup was always sitting on the counter for you in Price’s signature mug.

And on your weekends off? Oh, you bet your sorry (but not really,) ass he was stuck to your hip like glue.

Without knowing it, you and your captain had almost formed a routine together. One that slowly started filling the lonely silence of your day with his body, his voice, his presence.

You knew every scar on his body, you'd mapped them out like constellations. You learned something new about him every day too, it was exciting yet familiar all at once. Unbenoiced to you, 141 and by extension Price, had become home.

All of this had somehow been accumulating without your knowledge until now. To which this realization that you were a little too fond of your captain hit you like a truck. Bringing you to your current position, hunched over a small table that was tucked away in the corner of the break room. It was wayyy past lights out, but laying in your bed left with your thoughts and anxiety sounded nightmarish. A steaming cup of tea sat on the table a few inches away, (in Price’s signature mug of course.)

Just as you were about to finally take a sip, someone walked in. You sat straight up, your heart running a million miles an hour. On top of that, you almost knocked your tea over. Who the hell was coming in at almost one in the morning???

It was Gaz.

You placed a hand over your racing heart, letting out the breath you didn't know you were holding. “Jesus- you scared the shit out of me Garrick.” You said wearily.

Gaz stood at the door in his beat-up grey sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants. He looked a little rough, well, as rough as someone with his looks could be. He scratched the back of his head, “Sorry, didn't think anyone would be up this late.” Dark eyebags colored his smooth brown skin, making him look like he was two steps from passing out.

Your eyebrows furrowed in a slight amount of worry, “rough night?” He nodded, walking into the room, and making a beeline for the refrigerator.

“Pretty much, figured it was better to be awake than sleeping if sleep wasn't doing me any good.” He yawned, grabbing one of those refrigerated protein bars from the fridge. You nodded a silent understanding. Nightmares were commonplace, nobody talked about them, but everyone had a shared understanding of what went on in and after you woke up. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish where the dream ended and reality began.

He looked back at you as he tore the wrapper off, “What about you? You look like shit…so I want to say you're in the same boat?” Gaz took a large bite of his bar.

You groaned, your head falling back down on the wood table. “Gee, thanks. But not really, just sorting out some other business.” You said bitterly.

Gaz hummed in understanding, but when you looked back up he was pulling the opposite end chair out. He sat himself across from you, folding his arms as he ate. “Okay, what's up then?” He said plainly.

You blinked at him, “What? No, I'm not just going to tell you. It's private.” You said shaking your head and putting your hands up as if to block his question. Gaz looked at you unimpressed, raising a single eyebrow.

“Uh-huh, does it have something to do with Price?” He said, staring at you with the intensity of a laser.

You almost choked on your spit, looking at him like he'd just killed your family cat in front of you. Your mouth agape, “Absolutely not. Why would you think it’d be about Price?” You said quickly.

Gaz simply looked at you, raising both his eyebrows at you. A silent communication of ‘Are you serious?’ was said by his stare. After another moment of the staring contest, you gave up, dropping your head back down with a groan. “I'm so fucked.” You said defeated.

He perked up, “Spill.” Was all he said.

You covered your mouth, almost as if to stop yourself from saying anything. This was so breaking every agreement you and Price had talked about. But frankly, you were going insane keeping it to yourself. And maybe Gaz was the best person to tell, as much as you loved Ghost and Soap, they were useless at keeping secrets.

You glanced back up to Gaz, his brown eyes intently staring at you. Your resolve started to crumble, “I think I’m in love with him.” Whispered, the haunting words magnifying the gravity of the situation you found yourself in.

Gaz’s eyes shot wider like he’d just been injected with 1,000g of caffeine. His mouth fell open, and the half-eaten bar in his hands dropped onto the table. You both sat there staring at each other with similar mortified expressions. He shut his mouth, “I-Well that wasn't really what I expected to hear.” He said agast.

You buried your face into your hands, groaning. “Fuck I know- I don't even know where that came from. But we've been like…messing around with each other for a few months, and I thought it was just that.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your palms. “But now everything is like complicated, I just let my feelings take the reins and got ahead of myself. Now I don't know what to do and nobody knows because obviously, I couldn't tell anyone. After all, either of us could get in trouble.”

Gaz sat silent as you rambled on, “-I’m still not sure exactly what I'm feeling. I've never felt this way about anyone else, I've had boyfriends, but not a weird hookup situation. So, I'm not sure how one really goes about this.” You looked down at the table, taking a breath. “So, does that answer your question?” You breathed.

He stared at you, dumbfounded. “So that rumor you got so mad over was true?” He said lamely, to which you groaned and threw your hands up in the air.

“No!” You whisper shouted, “-I mean no but yes. The rumor came first, that night I stormed off Price kissed me. And after that things just kinda… got carried away.” You said sheepishly, feeling a bit guilty.

Gaz let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Jesus [Name], I knew something was going on between you but I didn't think it went that deep.” He ran a hand over his chin, scratching his jaw. “-So…you and Price have been secretly fucking, but just recently you realized that this uh, arrangement, has gone to shit because you now have feelings for him. Am I following?”

You pursed your lips into a tight line, “Pretty much.”

He nodded and hummed in concentration, “Okay, but what changed? What made you realize you had feelings? Because to the rest of the team, it still looks like you’re at each other's throats.” Gaz said, crossing his arms.

You thought about it for a moment, trying to pull maybe a specific event from your memory. “I guess it just kinda built up…I mean he just changed. Sure we still fight but it’s more like banter now. He kisses me, and he holds me, he's funny and sweet…it's almost like I get to see an entirely new version of him that I just didn't see before.”

Gaz blinked at you, seemingly surprised. “Actually?” He said, stunned. To which you nodded aggressively.

“Yes- he's totally done a 180. But in a good way, he's still the same asshole but he's loving and caring too. And I feel like I'm pulling my teeth out just staying in a situation where he makes me feel like I mean so much, but then I have to go and pretend I hate him.” (you still sometimes did.)

Gaz listened to you speak, holding his chin while he thought about your words. After you were done, all he could do was sigh, “Well…shit. Half of me wants to pat you on the back while the other half wants to slap you across the face for being stupid.”

You scrunched your nose, holding your hands up in surrender. “Please don't, I have enough problems as it is. I don't need to add a black eye into the mix.”

Gaz breathed an amused laugh, though, it sounded more weary than you would've liked. Even if it was the worst idea in the world to tell him, you felt better now that it was off your chest. You looked down at the table, “So, what do I do now?”

He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was silence. He was just as lost as you were.

You looked at him hopelessly, “Come on man, give me something.”

Gaz looked down at the table, pursing his lips in a tight line. Obviously, he had an idea, but he just wasn't saying anything. “What if you tried to make it work with him?” He proposed.

Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth hanging open in what only could be described as ‘gobsmacked.’ “You're kidding right?” You asked, your tone nearly laughable.

He shook his head, crumbling up the wrapper of his protein bar and tossing it into a nearby trashcan. His shoulders rose with a sigh, “No I'm not. I mean… why not just try? It sounds to me like you've got a fighting chance to make things work.” He said encouragingly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your eyes squeezing shut. “Two minutes ago you said you wanted to slap me, and now you're telling me that I should go for it?” You said incredulous.

Gaz held his hands up in surrender, “Yes, but that was before I knew everything. I just thought you were fucking the Captain at first, which is still completely idiotic. But it sounds to me like both of you are emotionally invested in each other.” He said putting his hands back down, “-And you're only here for a couple more months right? Just keep it on the down-low then you can do whatever you want. I'm like ninety percent sure that Price likes you too.”

You groaned, your head falling on the table with a clunk. “Only ninety percent?” Peeking up to look at him, his face morphing into one of scrunched wash cloth.

“Maybe like eighty-five. But those are still good odds in my book.” He said guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You're not helping.” You sighed, resuming your dramatic pity party. Gaz rolled his eyes at your antics, placing a comforting hand on your head and giving it an encouraging pat. “Hey, I'm not saying you have to do some big confession. All I'm doing is suggesting that communicating with him may bring some good. Like Soap said that one time, Price acts differently around you, I think you've got some good chances.”

You finally looked up at him again, his face a pitying smile. “Think about it.” He said finally, leaving you with more on your mind than you originally started with.

“Okay, I'll think about it.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Four months to go and nothing had happened. Well, not necessarily, the team had continued to train, your sneaking around with Price was still going, and the world kept spinning. Turns out that realizing one's feelings for another doesn't cause the sun to explode. Fascinating stuff.

However, there was still no confession of feelings of any kind. The two of you danced around your ‘relationship’ like it was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. Maybe it was for the greater good, some things were just better off unsaid.

In the meantime, your focus had shifted in light of new events that were fast approaching. You still cringed thinking of your first real mission back in Urzik, and while nothing horrible happened, it still left you with a sour taste on your tongue. There were small things 141 had been doing but now a new mission was right around the corner. There was still little to no word about rouge commander Shepard nor an explanation of the abandoned facility you had raided months back.

You still didn't even know if the two were connected, probably not. But it was still possible, maybe best not to think too hard about it. After all, you weren't the brains behind the operations, you were just the pon they sent to die in their place.

The air around 141 had become tense again, much like before Urzik. Everyone was on edge, especially Price. You were happy to take the edge off most of the time, but there were some things that sex just couldn't fix. And this fell into that category.

You were sitting on an office chair in one of the conference rooms around base. The rest of the team stood close to the large wooden table or sat in the other scattered chairs. The tension in the room was thick, nobody said a word. All focus was on Price, who stood a few feet apart from the group, flipping through a manilla folder. His eyebrows furrowed in tension and his lips pulled into a subtle frown.

He set the folder down, “We’re going back to Urzik.”

You could almost feel the shift in the mood from bad to worse. But before you could voice your complaints Soap beat you to it. “We’re going back to that shite hole? After what happened last time I would have assumed someone figured out that we should stay out of the terrorists and the Russians assholes.”

Price sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “We don't know if they were terrorists back at the compound. And Urzik hasn't been under Russian occupation since 2019.” He said, earning a half laugh from both Soap and Ghost.

“Come on Cap, you don't even believe that crap they're pushing.” Soap chuckled, his arms crossed over his chest. Leaning against the wall behind you.

While it was true that Urzikstan had been liberated from Russian rule, some of the men under General Markov’s command had disappeared after his death. Leaving some loose ends for the CIA and SAS to clean up. There had been some word of Markov’s men teaming up with local militant groups who despised Urzik’s central government. But it wasn't confirmed, nor viable.

Price shook his head, “It doesn't matter if I believe it or not. The point is that we have a job to do and we’re not going to let past affairs get the better of our judgment.” He ran his hand over the scruff of his beard, “-Laswell wouldn't be sending us in again if she didn't have a good reason to. They have reasonable intel that just outside of Riyzabbi there's an abandoned bazaar where all of the goods from the compound were relocated.”

Ghost chimed in, “So they're sending us on the same wild goose chase they did before? Who's to say they don't pull the same shite as last time?”

You nodded along with his words, he had a point. Price grunted, waving him off. “Like I said before, they have better intel. I'm asking you to trust me, if I see anything I don't like we’re out. Whatever is in there, we have the means to put it to an end.”

Everyone fell silent, taking in the information. It was a while before anyone spoke again, Soap sighed. “If I have to eat that awful food back at checkpoint base I’m quitting on the spot.”

For a second the mood shifted, and you laughed, but the reality of the situation was hovering over you like a looming storm cloud.

For a brief moment, you locked eyes with Price, and his stare told you everything you needed to know. He was just as frustrated, if not more so. His gaze shifted again, staring down at the table with an intensity you couldn't fathom. “Everyone’s dismissed. We leave at 0500 in 72 hours.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

As Price said, 72 hours later, you were back in the air, flying to Urzikstan. An ache gnawed at the back of your head, making the already dreary ride more depressing. You were too uncomfortable to sleep and too tired to stay awake. Creating an odd out-of-body experience that you had the “pleasure” of basking in for the whole 5-hour flight.

After you had landed at the checkpoint base you took a moment to reacquaint yourself with the landscape. Not much had changed aside from a few new tents and other minor additions to the camp. You felt a sense of Deja Vu looking at the old dining hall tent and medical area. Memories from your and Price’s first kiss flooded your mind, under different circumstances, it might have been somewhat pleasant recounting the moment. But now, it only made you feel profoundly sad. It was nostalgic-back when everything was simpler between the two of you.

Whatever was bubbling up inside you, you shoved it down as far as it could go. Hating someone was a lot more straightforward than loving them.

You made your way to the ‘barracks,’ setting what little things you had onto the small cot. Everyone else was just as miserable as you were, obviously, this wasn't their first choice for sleeping quarters. A part of you wished it wasn't daytime, it would be easier to sleep away the anxiety and headache.

You had until dark to do as you pleased, when nightfall came, you were going to be loaded up into the trucks again. From there, you'd go to Riyzabbi, and once it was clear to do so, to the bazaar.

Just like the last time you were here, you felt a deep sense of dread. One that you couldn't pinpoint, nor could you explain away with ‘just nerves’. There was too much that you didn't know, and too little payoff. The only advantage 141 had was the element of surprise, and even that wasn't confirmed. A small part of you felt anger towards Laswell, she probably knew that there was something off about this mission, and yet she was sending you and the team directly into the pit of lions.

To quell the sense of impending doom, you started to wander around the checkpoint base. Not sure where you were going or what your end goal was, you continued walking. That was until you heard someone's voice bleeding out from one of the tent walls. Their tone was accusatory, malicious even, it was laced with so much venom you could feel your skin recoil. It didn't sound familiar, but the voice who came after it did.

“You know just as well as I do it's a suicide mission. I’m not sending my team out there to die. All for some fucking game of territory monopoly and protecting Shepard.”

Price.

The other voice spoke up again, seemingly more agitated than the first time if that was possible. “Shepard is gone, and he sure as hell isn't going to be here in Urzik. And It's not a suicide mission. The CIA hired your team to do a job, not back out when things get real. Your opinion on how the government deals with involvement concerning foreign enemy affairs has no merit, Captain. If it were up to me, your team wouldn't even be here, but Kate Laswell keeps you on a tight leash doesn't she?”

You heard a loud bang, akin to a hard fist being slammed onto flat wood. “Watch your mouth. You and your muppets can both go crawl back under the CIA’s boot. As for Laswell, you know just as well as I do she would be more than happy to bring you and rouge commander Shepard's previous associations to the attention of your government.”

There was silence for a beat. Suddenly you could feel your heart beating, pounding in your chest. Your fingers felt numb, and even time seemed to slow. You could say with 100% certainty that you were not supposed to be listening, you weren't even sure if you wanted to keep listening. You heard footsteps coming from the inside, in your peripheral vision, you caught the slight rustle of the tent door. Without thought you jumped out of sight, pressing yourself to the side of the tent just as a man stormed out.

You watched the back of his head as he muttered something, you held your breath. After a good minute, you exhaled, silently creeping out from where you stood. Something in you was telling you to leave, to pretend you had never heard what you did. But there was a magnetic pull that drew you back into Price.

Carefully, you peeked your head through the tent door. A few feet away was Price, his back was turned with his hand over his face, the other on his hip. Before you could speak he turned around to see you, his eyes growing twice the size. Time seemed to freeze for a second time, you watched his eyes go from surprise to anger, and then to exhaustion. By the look on your face, he most likely already knew what you were hiding.

“How much did you hear?” He sighed, rubbing his hand over his cheek.

You walked into the tent, standing awkwardly in front of the door. “Just the last part.” You confessed, swallowing what little bravery you had left.

Price didn't respond, his hand moving over his eyes to rub and smooth over his temples. His cheeks pulled in as he bit the inside of his mouth. “Right… well, I'm sorry you had to hear that.” He breathed, his voice more weary. A stark contrast to the raw anger you heard from him a few moments prior.

You shook your head, “Don't be sorry. At first, I was mad at you and Laswell for going through with this. But… I guess after that, I know you didn't want to either.” You tried your best to form a semblance of hope, giving him a drained smile. “Like you said, this mission is fucking suicide. But if anyone can lead the team and somehow come out alive, it's you.”

There was a flash of something in Price’s eyes, it was the same thing that you saw back on your walk with him months prior. You glanced down at his hands, watching the way they flexed. Like he was aching to hold, to touch something. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, “I’m sorry.” He breathed, “-I’m sorry that I'm putting you and the guys in this situation.”

Price’s hand came back up, dragging it across the side of his face. His eyes shut tight, eyebrows knit together. “It's just…the longer I stay here, doing this, the more it's clear to me none of it was for a greater good. And I don't want that for you.” He sighed, “-I…I want you to know there is a way out [Name]. You don't have to continue to do this.”

This made you draw back, Price had never sounded like this before. He sounded like he was already admitting defeat, and like he was giving you a chance to escape what you chose to do. Your eyebrows furrowed, marching straight up to him with your lips twisted in a frown. You reached up to pull his hand away from his face, your other hand reaching up to cup his cheek with your hand. Your palm pressed against his jaw, feeling the rough bristle of his beard under the pads of your fingers. Forcing him to look at you.

“Don’t do that.” You said sternly, making his eyes snap back. Looking at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “-Don’t act like everything is already set in stone, we don't know what's going to happen. It could go bad but it could also be fine. And you're also acting like I didn't choose to be here, I'm willing to do this job Price. Just because I don't like what shady shit someone is doing behind the scenes doesn't mean I'm going to back out.”

Price stared at you, and you stared back. Willing him to understand that you had hope for him, you had hope for the team. Maybe it was stupid to try and be strong, but if you didn't try, you'd be giving up too.

You couldn't leave, not now. Not when you had a reason to stay. As much as you hated the idea of someone sending you into a death trap, the only thing you hated even more would be leaving Price to go into said death trap. You couldn't pry yourself away from him even if you tried. Your hand squeezed his, I love you, the gesture said.

Price squeezed your hand back, “[Name], I-” I love you, his eyes said. You shook your head, staring back at him with the same intensity.

“I know.” You breathed back. You couldn't stand it, you wanted to hear the words from his mouth. You wanted it with everything in you, but this was probably the worst time you could think of to confess. So, you settled for a mutual understanding. A silent promise, that when you came back maybe things could be different.

There was another beat before he leaned in, and like an idiot, you let it happen. Your hand tightened slightly against his cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed you. His lips were warm, and you sighed into his mouth as you got a taste of him. His mouth that tasted like smoke and whiskey, and you yearned for more. His body was charged with an electricity that sent shivers down your spine. Every brush, touch, and groan had you on edge.

Before you knew it, he was pushing you up against the table that sat in the middle of the room. Your hand slid down from his face to fist into his shirt as you were slowly backed against the wood. You should've pushed him off, it was too risky to be doing this now. It was mid-day for fucks sake, not only that but anyone could walk into the tent.

Yet something about the tension, exposed and raw like an open cable wire, held you back from protesting. Hell, if this was the last time you were going to see him outside of the field, mind as well go out with a bang (literally).

Price must've come to the same conclusion by the way he sat you down on the table, standing in between your parted thighs. His breath was heavy and his lips slick, taking you in with his eyes. “Fuckin’ Christ love, you're a vision. I don't say it enough, but you're gorgeous.” He murmured, breathless.

You felt your cheeks go hot, the warmth seeping up into your ears. Taking compliments was never your strong suit. Price pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, his hands moving from your waist to the belt and zipper of your pants. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, “Baby lay back for me.”

Well with that voice, you couldn't bear to not comply. You hesitantly lowered your back onto the flat wood of the table. Propping yourself on your elbows, watching as Price slowly pulled your pants down to reveal your undergarments. His eyes flickered to you then back to your covered pussy, an insatiable hunger in those pools of navy blue. He lowered to his knees, hooking your thighs under his biceps. Price pressed a few soft nips and kisses to the burning skin of your inner thighs, earning a few soft gasps on your part.

Your nails scraped against the wood, biting down on your lip to keep your voice down. With one hand, Price hooked his finger against the fabric of your panties, parting it to the side to show your soaked cunt. A small groan left him at the sight of you, he glanced back at you. “You’re gonna be quiet now right?”

Without a thought behind it, you nodded. Desperate to have his mouth on you, he leaned in, flattening his tongue to lick a long stripe up your folds. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering for a moment. When he started to swirl his tongue over your clit, you almost broke. “Price-” You gasped out, your voice a whisper.

He hummed against your cunt, suctioning his mouth against your clit. “No Price here, we’re far past that love. Use my name baby, use my name and I'll listen.” He murmured, the vibrations of his voice making your mind dizzy. One of your hands threaded into his short hair, guiding his face against your pussy.

“Fuck- John, feels good. Feels so good.” You whispered, your voice almost a mewl. His dull nails dug into the meat of your thigh, groaning softly as he lapped at your weeping cunt. Your eyes squeezed shut, all of your concentration honing in on trying not to moan out loud.

His tongue switched between fast flicks of your clit and drawn-out open-mouthed kisses to your mound. When you got more desperate you guided him to where you wanted, and John was happy to oblige.

Your back was now flat on the table, thighs locked around Price’s head like a boa constrictor. Your voice was now silent moans and labored breaths, and with every passing moment, it was harder to stay quiet. Your nails tugged at his hair, gripping onto him like a lifeline. John suddenly pushed his tongue into your hole without warning, pushing the tip of the muscle in and out with vigor. You nearly screamed, slapping a hand over your mouth to bite on your knuckle.

Price was devouring you like a man starving.

Your back arched off the wood of the table, methodically moving your hips in tandem with his tongues movements. The slurry of noises coming from John’s mouth and your cunt was obscene. Wet smacks of his lips mixed with small groans and deep gasps.

It felt like you were floating, your senses muddied beneath the feeling of his mouth. Your body was burning, a coil in your stomach just begging to snap. You bucked your hips into his face, begging him to quell the fires raging in your body. Price seemed to catch on, he held one of your thighs tight while the other slid between your legs. His mouth hovering over your pussy, he slipped a digit into your aching cunt.

You silently cried out, your core tightly gripping his finger as he curled it inside you. Then, he slowly worked in a second, mimicking the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers buried deep in your pussy. “Atta’ girl, little longer for me.” John breathed against you, his breath fanning against your cunt.

Suddenly he was on you again, swirling his tongue over your swollen bud while curling his digits in you. You could have died happy then and there, everything felt so good you couldn't think. Your nails dug into the table, marking it with long stripes.

Between his fingers and his tongue, you were a goner. Your vision went white, trying your hardest not to scream out to the heavens. “John- shit I can’t I'm gonna cum.” You whined through heavy pants, tears pooling in the corner of your iris from the stimulation.

“Come on then, cum for me. Let go love, cum on my mouth.” He murmured against your sopping pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit and speeding the movement of his fingers.

That was all it took before you came, hard. Your back arched and your head fell back, biting down on your hand so hard that it hurt. Your thighs shook as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and mind-blowing. And John fucked you through it, never letting up on his page until you fell limp like a bag of flour. After those precious few moments, he gently slid his fingers from your cunt. Pressing a soft kiss to your thigh before setting it down slowly.

You were gone. Your brain turned to mush, a daze of post-orgasm exhaustion and giddiness. Slowly you blinked your eyes back open, letting John slowly guide you back to a sitting position. He held the small of your back while his other hand held your face.

“You alright?” John murmured, his mouth shiny with your slick. You couldn't help but laugh, your forehead hitting his lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm alright.” You breathed. The after-glow hit you hard, but there was still the looming anxiety of the mission. You knew the moment wouldn't last forever, you just hoped you could bask in it a little longer.

John sensed the shift, knowing it was his turn to be brave, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His eyes soft, “Hey, like you said, we’re gonna be okay. Nothing is set in stone yet.” He whispered, making you nod.

“Right. We’re going to come out of this.” You said, more for yourself. He nodded, the both of you knew deep down it was wishful thinking. But maybe having something to hope for, something to come back to, would push you to fight even harder to keep it.

And in the end, you were willing to do anything to keep this.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Everything around you was dark, with an air pungent with dust and grime. The walls only grew bigger and shadowed as you passed, ducking behind doors and boxes to remain out of sight. Just like last time everyone was paired in either a group of two or three, you were with Ghost. You had to give him credit where credit was due, as large and burly as he was, he was silent as he moved.

The bazaar was large, with huge openings in the ceilings covered by hanging fabric. Open doors that connected rooms and massive lamps draped from the walls. It might've even been nice had it not been for its years of inactivity, and under the cover of night, it was simply eerie. Wires covered the walls and ceiling, some even hanging down low enough to snag someone if you weren't careful.

You weren't quite sure what exactly you were looking for, after all, you didn't know what this aforementioned ‘bio-chemical lab’ looked like. And if it was easily portable, it wouldn't exactly look like your standard chemistry lab.

“[Name].”

Ghost spoke into your headpiece, standing several feet away. You snapped out of your train of thought, looking back at him.

“Let’s get a move on, the others are on the top floor. I'm guessing it’s near the bottom, or even underground, be on high alert. There's bound to be people this time around.” He said, earning a nod from your end.

With that, you made your way further into the bazaar. Gun at the ready, you weaved through rooms and piles of storage and other junk. When you got to a large room on the north side of the building, tucked away between rubble and containers your body tensed. There wasn't anything unordinary about it, it looked exactly like every other room, but something felt off. A few steps into the space and you had your explanation for the uneasiness you felt.

With an odd thunk’ of your boot on the ground, you looked back at Ghost. He looked back at you, the same expression on his face, it was hollow.

You came off it, brushing your foot over the area again to remove the grime and dust. It was a different color and texture than the ground. “Well I’ll be damned, you were right.” You breathed, “-Think this opens up from the outside?” Ghost kneeled on the ground next to whatever you found. Pushing his hand over it and sending small clouds of dust into the air.

“Doesn't matter if it does.” He said, fishing out a knife from his bullet vest. Finding a dibet with his finger in the ground he wedged the blade in between the surface, pulling up until the ground lifted.

With a grunt, he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the trap door. Pulling until the structure revealed a human-sized rectangular hole in the ground. A latter peeking out from inside the ground pressed into the side of the dirt. You stared down at it, knowing this was it. Clicking your headpiece, you spoke, “Cap, we got something. Northside, ground floor, it’s a trap door in the last room.”

After a moment you got a response, “Copy. See what you can find, we’re coming. If you see anything don't think, just shoot. I want you and Ghost alive.” Price’s voice rang loud and clear in your ear.

With a nod, you looked back down at the hole, even with night vision, it was hard to make out the bottom. Ghost was the first to go down, with you following suit the minute he gave the all-clear to come down. Inside was dark and smelled like mildew, a tunnel leading further into the unknown. The same wires that hung down from up on the surface were strung about the dirt walls. It wasn't spacious in the tunnel, but it didn't make you feel claustrophobic.

Ghost raised his gun, nodding to you to follow as you made your way deeper. It wasn't long until you reached a door, it wasn't impenetrable by any means, but it was going to be a pain to get through. But the thing that caught your attention most was the faint light that peeked from the cracks of the hinges. Ghost looked at you, “Get back, and I’ll break the door, you follow in straight after and shoot at anything you see.”

As said, with a firm kick, Ghost kicked the door down. The metal swung open with a crackle, and with your gun at the ready, you quickly followed him inside. The first thing you heard was voices, panicked and deep. Your eyes met a man in the corner of the room, quickly scrambling up to his feet and reaching the rifle that lay in front of him. Just like you were told, you didn't think, you acted on instinct.

Your gun went off, and his body was forced back by the blow. Blood spattered the wall behind him, his head rolling limp on his shoulders. You heard another shot fired, looking over to Ghost who was in firing position, and then to the direction of his rifle. Another body, this one standing, keeled over onto the floor, pooling red onto the ground. A deafening silence followed after, you waited for more voices but they never came.

“Just two?” You said, looking between the two. “-and they don't look local.” You muttered, focusing on the pale skin and European features. You looked back to Ghost who was standing a few feet away. “-Think they might be Russian like Soap said?”

Ghost shrugged, “It's possible.” He gruffed, looking around the room. It was emptier than you expected, with a table, lamps, flasks, and a few weapons. Another voice rang out from somewhere in the cavern before you could look any further. Coming from another hallway that you had missed when you first saw the room.

You quickly ran against the wall near the hallway entrance, pressing yourself into the hard surface so you wouldn't be seen. Ghost followed suit, and not a second later another man ran out, rifle in hand. And just like before you fired, watching the body hit the ground like a sac of potatoes.

This one looked like he could be from Urzik. You looked back at Ghost, who pushed off the wall, ducking into the hallway. It wasn't long before you entered a much bigger cavern, full of boxes and equipment. Open containers of guns with ammunition, tables covered with cylinder-shaped lab equipment. You could hardly classify this as a lab, more like a glorified basement with makeshift tools. Large computers also lined what little space they could occupy. Florescent overhead lights cast the room in a putrid dimish glow.

Before you had time to react a bullet brushed past your arm. Sending a burning shock through your system. You ducked, trying to avoid what you couldn't see.

“They're shooting!” You yelled out to Ghost, finding refuge in a large container that you hid behind.

You looked around, desperate to see where the firing was coming from. Your eyes caught three at first glance, one person across the room, hiding behind another container. Another fired from a doorway, and the last one hid behind a table. All three aiming for either your box of Ghost. Your hands held your gun with an iron grip, turning your knuckles white.

You peeked out from behind the container, aiming for the second guy in the doorway. Your first shot missed, but your second shot straight through his forehead. Ghost, from wherever he was, took out the third guy from behind the table. Leaving the one behind the other container, peaking back out you felt another bullet fly past you. You scrambled back, your heartbeat hammering in your chest.

You called out to Ghost, “I can't get him! You're gonna have to take the last one!” After another shot to your hiding place, chipping the wood of the contained, Ghost called back.

“Copy! I've got him!” He yelled, a final shot echoing through the cavern before everything fell into an eerie silence. You tentatively rounded the corner of the container, looking back at the first guy's hiding spot. When all you saw was his body flat on the ground, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You heard Ghost call to you again, “[Name], you hurt?” You stood up, looking over in the direction of his voice. He was behind one of the walls of the hallway, pressed against the dirt wall.

“No, I'm all good. You?” You said back, scanning him for any sign of injury. He shook his head, letting his gun fall to his side.

“I'm clear.” He said, walking out from the hallway. You looked back at the three bodies adorning the floor, which made six in total so far. These three also looked like they were locals, you walked over to one. Moving your foot to hover over their hand, you kicked the gun away, staring at the blackened tattoo on his palm. Before, Soap had mentioned that rebel groups in Urzik shared a tattoo on their palms. Much like a gang tattoo, it united them under a common collective.

You looked back at Ghost, “What do Urzik terrorists have to do with us? If this really is a problem with uprisings against their government, why would the SAS and the CIA get involved?”

Your mind flashed to the conversation between Price and the commander back at the checkpoint base. He had said that if it had been up to him, 141 would never have been involved. Laswell had been the one to push for the team's involvement, even with its potholes. Then came Shepard, whose disappearance had led to your involvement with the team in the beginning. The only link to this you had to Shepard was his name being mentioned back at base.

Jesus, your head hurt just trying to think about it.

Ghost walked over to you, “My advice wouldn't be to think too hard about it [Name]. We’re doing a job, thinking about shite like this leads into a bigger rabbit hole than you think.”

You nodded, a frown settling onto your lips. Nothing about this sat right with you, but that was the cost you paid for being here in the first place.

“The important thing is, we located the lab. Now we just make sure there's nobody else so someone else can pick up the mess over here.” He said, making you nod along with him. Price and the other guys would probably be down any minute, that would make clearing everything out a hell of a lot easier.

You looked back at the man on the ground, staring into the fleshy eyes that held no light. You were reminded of the compound, staring into the eyes of the man who had shot Price’s foot. You didn't feel sorry, more hollow.

Ghost turned his back, looking over to the entranceway hall. And the split second for him to turn around was all it took for something to go wrong all over again. With no warning, you felt something burn your side, sharp and hot like lava. A hand yanked you back, snaked around your neck, and held you back to something firm. You could barely choke out a gasp, the thorn in your side sending shocks of pain through your body you didn't even know was possible.

Something cold pressed against your temple, you could barely process what was happening before you heard a click. Ghost whipped around at the noise, immediately holding up his rifle to whatever was behind you.

For a brief moment, time stopped. You were all too familiar with what was happening, you were being held at gunpoint. Nobody moved, Ghost's voice suddenly echoing through the silent room. “Shepard. Let her go.” He said.

You blinked, Shepard? Fuck, you didn't see that coming. You thought maybe he had a small part in the involvement, but you didn't expect him to actually be here. You tried to look at him, but his arm around your throat only tightened, making you squirm. The thing in your side, most likely a knife, only seemed to hurt more the longer it was left sticking out of you.

“Drop your gun, and I will.” His voice was cold, it sounded like sandpaper. His breath made your nostrils recoil in disgust.

Ghost shook his head, his eyes darting between yours and the man holding you. “You and I both know that's not happening.” The barrel of the gun pressed into your skin harder, making you wince. Your hands clawing at his arm to pry him off your neck.

“If you don't drop that gun, I will kill this one. And that's a promise.” He said, your body felt numb, and the lack of oxygen only seemed to make you all the weaker. You heard voices from beyond the hallway, your mind screaming for John. You needed him, you needed him to come and fix the mess you had gotten yourself into. Being a hostage was by far your least favorite activity.

Ghost swallowed, still pointing his gun at Shepard. “Shepherd, it's in your best interest that you let her go. You're not getting out of this, you know that. You shoot her and it’s just another kill added to your list of crimes, let’s not lengthen that sentence.”

Shepard snarled, “I'll be damned if I'm sent to prison, we can do this all-day lieutenant. You pull that trigger, and I fire. If you put the gun down, maybe we can negotiate something.”

You tried gasping for air, your airways closing up. Nails clawing at his shirt, like a caged animal trying to get out of its enclosure. From your squinted eyes you could make out the form of Price, Gaz, and Soap entering the room, guns at the ready. The pain in your side fired back up again as the blade twisted, making you yelp.

“Shepherd put the fucking gun down!” You absentmindedly recognized John's voice, your vision growing fuzzier by the second.

You tried your best to fight, thinking of anything you could to stay conscious. You thought of your friends, family, and John. Between the knife in your side, the gun against your head, and his arms around your throat it was a miracle you could even think. You blinked again, gasping for more air. You saw Ghost and Price, Soap a few feet away, Gaz must've been somewhere in the room as well.

“Get back or she's dead!” Shepard barked, his voice ringing in your ear. You saw blotches of black in your vision, your body slowly losing its feeling.

As you blacked out, you heard a gunshot fire.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A white light flooded your vision, making your face scrunch up in discomfort. It was harsh and almost painful, you tried shutting your eyes as tight as they could go, but it was burned into your retinas.

Your limbs felt sluggish, you couldn't lift your arms. It seemed like you could only move your face, after another minute of trying to shut out the light, you gave up. Blinking your eyes open, you saw said white light hanging down from an even whiter ceiling.

“Holy shit, you're awake.” A female voice said, making you halt. You knew that voice, your eyes darted to the sound. Turing your head from its apparent, laying position to follow your gaze. Your eyes met an older woman, she had bangs and blondish hair.

“Laswell?” You croaked, your voice was shot. It sounded like a frog, making you internally cringe.

Kate Laswell stood at the foot of your bed, her hands grabbed at your arm. “Don’t talk [Name], the nurse said you shouldn't be using your voice for the next couple of days.” She scolded. You grunted, your throat felt as dry as the Sahara.

The pain slowly started to come back, a deep-seated ache that made you wince. “What happened?” You breathed. Your mind was fuzzy, the last thing you remembered was being in the bazaar and being held at gunpoint by Shepherd.

Laswell pursed her lips in a line, obviously not too thrilled about the events that transpired. “Well, John told me after you passed out they managed to disarm Shepard. But by that point, you were already gone, so they got you out. After that, you were transported to the checkpoint base and now you're in the hospital.”

You were following up until the hospital part, last time you checked, the checkpoint base didn't have a full-fledged hospital. “Hospital where?” You croaked, looking at Laswell for an answer.

“D.C,” She said plainly, almost like it was obvious. “It was the easiest place I would be able to keep an eye on you until you woke up.”

You barely had the energy to be surprised, “Oh.” Was what you settled on. “Where is the rest of the team?” You asked.

She sighed, “John is here. Garrick and Ghost are still in Urzik for another day, they have other matters they need to sort out first. Soap also came here with you, though he's not in the hospital.”

You nodded along, a small part of you relaxed when you heard John's name. He was here, which meant he was most likely safe. Your eyes closed, “oh, good then.” You sighed, your voice a whisper. Any louder and it would sound like your vocal cords were being torn to ribbons.

Laswell looked down at you, a sadness in her eyes. Almost guilt, “[Name].” She said, grabbing your attention again, “-I’m pulling you off the team early.”

You froze, your eyes doubling in size. Maybe you misheard her, 141 was your family, she couldn't just pull you off. You still had a few more months with them! “What? Why?” You asked throatily.

She looked at you incredulously, “Because you almost died. Honestly, it was my fault in the beginning, I shouldn't have put you in the situation.” Your eyes narrowed, you tried to sit up but she placed a firm hand on your chest to keep you from doing so.

“Laswell, I’m fine. I don't need to be taken off 141, everyone in the world has probably had a near-death experience.” You protested, “-I want to keep being on the team, I know at first I was only doing this as a favor but I'm not anymore.”

Laswell looked at you, a bit stunned. Her eyes stared into yours, deciphering if you were really telling the truth. “Are you sure? I was only going to do it because I believed that is what’s in your best interest. But are you positive this is what you want? Even after what happened?”

You stared back at her, determined as ever. “I'm positive.”

There was a beat of silence before Laswell sighed, rubbing her face. “Okay,” she breathed. “But you're still not allowed to participate in anything until you're fully healed.” Your demeanor relaxed again, almost sinking into the mattress. It was a win, a small one, but a win nonetheless.

You looked back at her, “You said Price was here right?” You asked, trying your best to hide the eagerness in your tone.

She nodded, “Yes, he's outside. He's been coming with me to check on you.”

You could've run out of bed at that exact moment, from the first minute you'd woken up he was occupying half of your thoughts. “Could I talk to him…?” You asked, trying to disguise your desperation.

Laswell gave you a pointed look, obviously, she knew more than what she was letting on. “You have ten minutes, then I'm pulling him out so you can get more rest.”

You thanked her profusely, waiting in anticipation for John to walk through the door. You shimmied up into a sitting position, trying not to irritate the stitches in your side. After a minute, your captain walked through the door. His hair was a bit tousled, and his beard had been trimmed, but there were large bags under his blue eyes. Clad in an army-green cotton shirt with jeans. He was a sight for sore eyes that was for sure.

After a minute of staring he bolted across the room, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His hand holding the back of your head to his chest and his other arm wrapped around your back. You weakly tried to hug him back, inhaling his scent.

“You have no idea how worried I was.” He breathed, pulling away to get a good look at your face. His hands cupped your jaw like a precious jewel. You smiled, laughing to the best of your ability.

“Well, I'm alive. That's saying something.” You breathed, taking him in. You’d barely spent any time away from him, yet you missed him, you needed his presence like you needed air. “Nobody can kill me that easy, not even Shepard.”

He looked at you, unimpressed by your attitude, “I wouldn't boast your level of confidence for someone in a hospital bed.” He deadpanned. You simply waved him off, but a question popped into your mind before you could say anything.

“Hey, what was Shepherd doing there anyway? I know you mentioned him earlier but I still don't understand why he was involved.” You asked, making him sigh.

John rubbed his neck, leaning back a little from his position. “If I'm being honest? I don't know either, I had a feeling he would be there but I wasn't positive. My best guess would be that he probably got involved with Markov's goons after he went rogue. After they must've teamed with underground gangs to keep tabs on what the CIA was up to.” He looked back at you, “A few people from the inside still had communication with him, that was most likely how we got the tip-off that he was in Urzik.”

You hummed, mostly glad you could put Urzik behind you. It was over and that was all that mattered, “So what happens now?” You asked.

Price raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“What happens now that you caught him?” You clarified. Staring at him curious.

John shrugged, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Well Shepherd is dead, he died during the altercation back in Riyzabbi. As for the team, we go back to normal. A few people who had relations with Shepherd are being tried in international court for unauthorized communication with enemies. But that's it, as far as I know.”

You hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut. Basking in the feel of his thumb against your skin, “Mm, and us…?” You asked, feeling a bit brave.

You felt him halt, “Well, you obviously know we can't exactly be public about this.” You opened your eyes back up to him, “-But, I don't think I can really deny what I feel for you.”

Your lips curled into a warm smile, one that seemed to say ‘I love you.’ John traced the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, ‘I love you’ the gesture said.

“I love you.” You said, unable to hold yourself back from uttering the words any longer.

John smiled, “I love you too.”

Pulling you in for a chaste kiss, you smiled against his lips. Your nose brushed his, his eyelashes tickling your skin.

You were going to be just fine.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Hey, don't go!

Okay first things first, I want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reposted, or send me kind messages on my last post. I never thought I would reach 1,000 likes but you guys work miracles! It literally means the world to me.

Second, so sorry for the long wait. I know it was awhile but I’m balancing my classes, social life, and my writing so it gets hectic sometimes. But I appreciate you for having patience in me, I want to ask if you would be so kind as to like, repost, or leave a comment! It really helps, more than you know.

Lastly, you definitely haven’t seen the last of me yet. There is more content coming! It might take a bit but I am working hard to please you ;) and with that I hope you enjoyed Captains Girl Part II, I love you all! Toodles ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ 💕

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Taglist

@rafaelacallinybbay @nellabear @z03ch4n @evashi @freshlemontea @fanfin-glutton @achbbys000 @glitteryarcadefart @lveegsoi @hippopotamusdreamer @matixity @eternallyvenus @simplyymee98 @pinkfqiry @fraserbraw @gibbsgirl7 @blackhawkfanatic @thecursebreaker @scaryplanetdestroyer @spicyspicyliving @locker-130 @moranguito0 @whos-fran @whisperwispxx @slut-lmao @thriving-n-jiving @nexthyperfix @juliat398 @ninaak @sleepyghxul @ravenmoore14 @angelicccdesire

So sorry if you weren’t tagged and you wanted to be, some of the usernames weren’t showing up!

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Part I of… Captains Girl: ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Thank you

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

[tpwk-formula1]

Paddock Bunny Series - 2

AN - So, I know I've been MIA but Friday and Saturday I have off so I'm hoping I can get a lot done in those days! Once I get started on the requests I'm sure they'll start flowing a lot easier again! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send in SMAU, text AU, and Fluff requests because I am genuinely stuck right now with those.

Drivers Included:

Oscar Piastri x Lily Zneimer x reader (Lily on FT)

Charles Leclerc x reader

TW - Phone sex, oral (m and f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering, protected sex

WC - 4.7K

Y/N POV

"Driver's room 15 minutes"

I see a text saying from Oscar making m

e smirk slightly. The Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix wrapped up about an hour ago and seeing Oscar moving through the garage before going into the media pen I knew he was upset with losing 2 places during the race.

While about half of the grid knows about what happened between Lando, Carlos and I, Charles has been the only new driver to be bold enough to invite me over until now.

Once the 15 minutes of socializing with some of the engineers is up I slowly make my way to where both the drivers rooms are. When Lando sees me in the hallways he sends me a quick smirk.

"Oscar actually listened to me?" Lando says when I pass him going to the door with 81 on the front.

"You suggested me to him?" I ask a little surprised not thinking Lando would be the one to start encouraging other drivers.

"Only him and only today. He was upset with his results. He needed a pick me up and I knew if I didn't encourage him he would absolutely never message you," Lando replies back making me laugh softly and shake my head.

"Stop talking about me like I can't do anything for myself," Oscar says while opening the door and looking at Lando.

Lando doesn't get another word in before Oscar's hand is wrapped around my wrist while he pulls me into his drivers room before closing the door and locking it so no one can disturb us.

"Oscar, I don't mean to kill the mood before it's even been set but what about Lily?" I ask softly. I knew he was in a long term relationship and I be damned if I'm the reason they split.

"She knows. I told her before I even texted you," Oscar replies back making a me cock my head to the side a bit surprised.

"She said you're my only pass, even joked that she wants to join next time. But if I'm honest I don't think it was a joke, I know she has a massive girl crush on you," Oscar says with a slight laugh falling from his lips but leaving me slightly shocked. It had never once been a secret that I was bi sexual but I thought one of the wags would even know who I was.

"Well, maybe if she really wants that maybe we could set it up," I say with a soft shrug of my shoulders before walking towards Oscar and softly placing my hands around his neck and pulling him closer making his breath hitch slightly.

"Fuck," Oscar gasps slightly when my words sink in making me smirk slightly.

"What do you want today?" I ask softly while looking up at him making him look down and stare at my lips before he crashes his down on mine making me moan out in shock.

I feel Oscar's hands trail down to my waist where he squeezes my hips slightly making me moan which he takes advantage of by slipping his tongue into my mouth letting me taste him.

I feel Oscar slowly moving up towards the small hard couch where he slowly sits down pulling me towards him and into his lap forcing me to straddle around his waist.

Oscar was still in his racing suit and with his hanging around his waist it wasn't hard to push them down enough to reach into his fireproofs and briefs to fetch out his already throbbing cock.

"Shit," Oscar hisses when my fingers firmly wrap around his cock and slowly start jerking him off. He was girthy as fuck and I knew it was gonna make me a few extra seconds to fully wrap my lips around my cock but I don't waist time getting onto my knees in front of Oscar.

"What are- fuck," Oscar starts talking but is quickly cut off when I take a slow lick from the base of his cock to his leaking tip before I slowly start wrapping my lips around his cock and try to relax my jaw enough to take more of his cock.

Once my mouth is as stuffed as I can get it I look up to find Oscar already staring down at me with wide eyes. I slowly start pulling off his cock making Oscar throw his head back with a moan.

"Sorry I can't take more," I admit softly once I've pulled back making Oscar look down at me with a stunned look.

"I don't give a fuck," Oscar says seriously before his hands are tangled in my hair once again pushing me towards his cock.

Once my lips are wrapped around his cock I start bobbing my head on his cock making a chorus of moans leave Oscar's mouth.

Learning different things about each of the boys might become my favorite thing.

Lando is more submissive even if he tries to be dominant. I know the truth and I'm determined to get him to let me dominate him so he realizes how good it can be.

Carlos is dominant like no ones business. He has a big cock and knows how to use it properly. So far he's the adventurous one loving to try different positions, different places, anything he can do to switch it us he'll try it.

Charles, well he's just a sweetheart. I've only been with him once and he was more about my pleasure than his.

And now little Oscar, the baby of the paddock, is noisy. From the moment his lips touched mine little gasps and moans have not stopped.

I could tell Oscar was getting close which has me speeding up my actions slightly which has Oscar's hands gripping my hair hards and pushing me down even more making me gag slightly.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Oscar groans trying to pull me off his cock to not cum in my mouth but I seal my lips around his tip and use my tongue to tease him.

"Fuck, fuck fuck," Oscar chants between breathless moans before I feel a jet of cum hit the back of my throat before another and another filling my mouth up to the brim making me swallow still while he's cumming.

By the time he was finished cumming he had filled my mouth with his cum once again making me swallow again.

So not only was Oscar vocal he was also a cummer. Like a lot of cum.

"I didn't think you would swallow otherwise I would've given a warning about how much I cum," Oscar tells me with a blush creeping up on his cheeks clearly slightly embarrassed.

"Oscar, that was the hottest thing ever! Please do not feel bad," I tells him softly while climbing back into his lap.

"Are you sure?" He asks while running his hands up and down my back softly. I just nod my head and place a soft kiss on his cheek making Oscar take my chin in one of his hands and softly pulling me down for a kiss.

"I wanna repay the favor," Oscar softly mumbles against my lips making me smile softly and nod.

As Oscar's lips start trailing down my neck I hear his phone go off making him throw his head back with a groan before reaching over to silence it before we both see Lily's bright smile lighting up on screen. I can tell her contact picture is older because of how young she looks but she's got the same wide smile.

"Answer it," I tell him softly starting to climb off his lap making him tighten his grip on my hip keeping me from getting up.

"Hey, love," Oscar smiles into the camera.

"Hi! Just wanted to see how it went with Y/N?" Lily asks with a clear giddiness in her voice, excited to hear about what happened.

"How about you ask her?" Oscar says back with a slight smirk playing on his lips and when the camera phone turns towards me I see the wide eyed look on her face clearly not expecting me to still be near.

"Hi Y/N! Um- well hi," Lily says making a small laugh fall from my lips. I could see how this whole situation would be strange for her. I mean I was in Italy sitting in her boyfriends lap while she's somewhere in the UK alone.

"Hi, well Lily, your Oscar has been amazing. Thank you for sharing," I tell her softly feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks.

"Of course, I really hope I didn't interrupt anything, I was just too excited to wait any longer," Lily admits making me smile.

"If I knew you were this excited I would've made him Facetime you," I tell her softly while sending a teasing glance towards Oscar who has a satisfied look on his face.

"However I do think my job here is done, your man is tapped out," I giggle while flashing the camera back to Oscar.

"No, we in fact are not done and I am not tapped out," Oscar says quickly while sitting up and pulling me closer.

"Lily go get your vibrator," Oscar says while taking the phone from my hand. I feel the energy shift making me sit up a bit straighter. In a split second Oscar went from half asleep and ready for a nap to whatever is about to happen.

"Osc-" Lily says softly.

"Oscar, if she's not comfortable with this it's okay," I tell him making him shake his head.

"Lily, I know you wish you could be here right now so this is the best I can give you. Strip down and get your vibrator. I know you're fucking soaked already," Oscar tells her. I can hear her getting up out of bed and the sound of clothes hitting the floor before a drawer is opened and slowly closed shortly after.

"I'm gonna give Y/N the phone. You tell her if you want the camera facing her or me," Oscar tells her softly before handing me the phone. Lily had the phone angled just on her face so I can't see more than just her bare shoulders but knowing that she was completely bare was enough to be a complete turn on.

Before I get a chance to do anything Oscar is pulling the phone out of my hand again before he placing it on the couch so it can face the room before standing us up and pulling our bodies into the view.

Oscar slowly unzips my dress while the both of us stare into the camera where I see Lily's cheeks heat but regardless I hear the familiar sound of a vibrator being clicked on before I see a look of relaxation spread across Lily's face.

"Lily what are you doing?" Oscar asks sternly making Lily's eyes open again before she blushes and flips the camera making me gasp slightly as the slightly.

Lily's legs are spread open and while I can't see more than her bare pussy and vibrator clearly on her clit it was enough to make my knees weak.

"Lily, you're quite impatient today," Oscar smirks while slowly pushing my dress down revealing my tits to Lily making her gasp slightly.

"She's so pretty," I hear Lily mumble softly before flipping the camera back to her face showing the bright smile she has across her blushing face.

"She is isn't she," Oscar replies softly while running his fingers along my sides making a goosebumps spread across my skin.

"Lily that's all you," I reply softly before I feel Oscar slowly pulling my thong down my legs letting me step out of it before he discards it somewhere in the room.

Once I was stripped down Oscar pushes me towards the bed again making me grab the phone and wait for Oscar's next instruction.

"Go on, You know what to do," Oscar tells me while gesturing towards the couch making me sit down slowly before laying down and spreading my legs.

"Fuck, you're soaked," Oscar says while still standing but staring at my dripping core.

Once Oscar climbs onto the couch I flip the camera so Lily and can see what he's doing.

Once Lily's eyes open again I see her gasp at the sight in front of her. Her boyfriend is in-between my thighs looking up at the camera before I feel his tongue on my clit making me moan and arch my back at how much I need this right now.

"Oscar," I moan using my free hand to grip into his hair.

I hear another click on through the phone letting me know she had turned the vibrator up higher.

"Fuck, Oscar I'm not gonna last long. I may have played a bit before I called," Lily admits before she flips the camera so I can see what's she's doing.

"Mm, show Y/N how wet you are and maybe I'll let you cum," Oscar says into the camera with a smirk before Lily moves around slightly before propping the phone on a pillow before spreading her thigh again. I let out a shocked gasp at the sight in front of me.

"Fuck, she's fucking soaked Oscar," I tell him softly making Oscar take the phone from my hand to catch a sight of his girlfriend before groaning.

"God you're fucking beautiful," Oscar tells her making me smile softly before Oscar angles the phone onto my body where Oscar shoves two fingers deep into my pussy making a me whimper at the feeling.

"Fuck, she's soaked too," Lily mumbles.

"Dildo or vibrator Lily?" Oscar asks little making Lily pick up the dildo and show the camera.

"Oscar, is that your dick?" I ask a bit stunned when I recognize the thick uncut cock making Oscar smirks down at me.

"You want one too?" Oscar says with a smirk making me laugh softly but it's cut off when Oscar starts finger fucking me harder making me whimper and moan at the intense feeling starting to spread across my body.

Oscar hands me the phone back to I can see Lily cumming but made sure I kept the phone angled on my pussy so she could see when I came.

"I want you guys cumming together," Oscar tells us sternly making Lily whimper clearly closer to the edge than me.

"Please, Y/N cum for Oscar," Lily says softly making a me whimper at her words before Oscar brings his free hand down to my clit where he starts teasing it.

"Fuck Oscar I'm gonna cum," I whimper making Oscar speed his actions up slightly before he starts counting down from 5.

"5"

"4"

"3" Oscar continues fingering me while both Lily and I's moans start growing in volume clearly getting far to close to the edge.

"Oscar I'm gonna cum," Lily whimpers.

"Fucking hold it! Be a good girl," Oscar tells her sternly.

"2" Oscar continues his counting.

"1, cum for me," Oscar tells us both instantly sending both Lily into a squirting orgasm with a load moan.

"Fuck Oscar!" Lily and I both moan the same thing making Oscar smirk slightly knowing he had just made two girls cum at the same time in completely different countries as each other.

"Fuck, Oscar she soaked the bed," I tell him softly while watching Lily ride her orgasm out before I see her slowly slip the dildo out of her pussy before he body went limp in relaxation.

"I mean you soaked the couch and me," Oscar replies back with a smirk making me look down and realize just how much I had cum too.

"Fuck that was good," Lily finally says something while showing her face on camera again.

"Give her aftercare and call me after please," Lily tells him softly making Oscar grab the phone and talk to her for a few seconds before he says his good byes and turns his attention back to me.

I was already back in my dress searching around the room for my panties.

"I have a shower," Oscar tells me while looking at my pleasure sliding down my thighs.

"It's okay, I just don't know where my thong is," I tell him softly making him smile and shrug his shoulder.

"Oscar don't be a weirdo give em back," I tell him while holding my hands out while he groans and reaches into his pocket and pulling them out.

"How did I miss that," I say while he helps me step into them. Once they're pulled up on my hip Oscar sends a teasing rub to my clit for a few seconds making me moan out softly. His actions stopped as quick as they started making me whimper at the loss of contact.

"That was mean," I mumble against his lips before kisses him.

"Just like making me give them back," he smirks back before placing another kiss on my lips.

Oscar pulls away and finds a shirt on the ground before approaching me again and wiping my thighs down.

"I can't make you shower but I refuse to send you back into the garage with your cum leaking down your thighs," Oscar tells me softly before standing up and looking at me.

"Go make sure Lily is okay, please. This is a weird situation for her, and I don't want to ruin a friendship with her over a heat of the moment situation," I tell him softly making Oscar laugh slightly.

"This was her idea. I had told her about the little group chat Lando had thrown me in this weekend and I explained the whole situation and she admitted that she thought it would be hot if I found a way to join," Oscar admits softly making a me laugh a little.

"So Lando was right in a way. You weren't gonna do this without some encouragement," I joke making Oscar groan but none the less nod his head in confirmation.

"Can we do this again sometime?" Oscar asks softly making me laugh a little and nod.

"Whenever you or Lily want. You don't have to put her in the big group chat but I'd love to have one with you, her and I if that was okay," I tell him softly making a bright smile spread across his face before he nods his head.

"I'll talk to her and we'll work something out," Oscar tells me before placing a soft kiss on my lips and walking me to the door where I slipped back into the garage after making sure the coast was clear.

It wasn't even 5 minutes later when I got a new text from Oscar saying hi. When I open the message I Oscar had thrown Lily and I into a group chat.

*image attached*

"Thank you for that!"

I read the message and look at the picture to notice her soft pink sheets covered in her orgasm the same way I had covered Oscar's race suit and couch.

It only a week later when a knock at the door sounds through my apartment. I'm currently on the phone with one of my best friends which has me quickly telling her good bye and I loved her before I made my way to the door and checked through the peephole before opening the door for Charles.

"How can I help you today," I ask with a sarcastic tone given that Charles had pushed his way through the door without an invite.

"Please, I'm so fucking stressed right now with Monaco this weekend I just need a release, please," Charles says in a hurried breath making a smile crack out on my face.

"No," I tell him with a straight face and a smirk.

"What! WHy not please! I really just need to get my mind off of this weekend for just an hour or so," Charles says getting increasingly more anxious.

"Charles, you need to focus on this weekend. These emotions are good. I refuse to be a distraction okay. If you win on Sunday you can come stroming into my apartment some time next week and I'll make sure to give a reward," I tell him softly while pulling him in for a hug and place a soft kiss on his cheek which turns slightly red under my touch.

"Y/N- you know what, the wait will be worth it and when I win Monaco I'm gonna have you cumming so fucking hard you can't think straight," Charles says with a final nod before pulling me back into his arms for a hug before he made his way back to the front door.

"Don't let anyone else touch you for the next week. I want you desperate," Charles says with a bright smirk on his face making me laugh and shake my head softly.

The second the front door of my apartment is closed behind Charles I receive a text when I check it I see that Charles had wasted no time in letting the rest of the boys know how off limits I was until he won Monaco.

It's Monday not even 10 in the morning when a loud knock rings through my apartment making me check to see who it was before opening the door to Charles.

"Get in your room, please, I can't wait a second longer to taste you," Charles says before I can even get a word in.

"Hey Charles, slow down. Congradulation," I say while closing the door before pulling Charles into me and placing a kiss on his lips.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. It took everything in me not to jump you at the club last night," Charles admits making me laugh and shake my head slightly.

Lando had made it his mission to piss Charles off the whole week when he declared me as off limits. While Lando respected Charles's wishes the same way everyone respected each other he made it a goal to rile Charles up as much as possible and last night in the Monaco club where we were celebrating Charles Lando had pulled me into his lap and made sure every feathered kiss along my jaw or neck was explicitly seen my Charles.

"You could've. I did say after you won Monaco I was all yours. Speaking of club, how the fuck are you awake right now. You were fucking plastered when I brought you and Alexandra up to your place," I tell him softly while he busies himself with placing soft kisses all along my jawline.

"I had good motivation," he tells me simply with a smirk.

Alex and Charles had a very open relationship. Like so open we all knew it was open before this little arrangement became a thing. I mean hell Alex and I had spent a few nights together long before Charles ever got the chance.

"Okay no more talking, your room now, please," Charles says sternly before adding in a sweet please.

I make my way into my room with Charles following closely behind and the second I'm in the room Charles is pulling my sleep shirt off a long with pulling my black leggings down my legs leaving me in my Ferrari red thong I put on when I woke up knowing there was a good chance today was when Charles would be knocking on my door.

"Fuck, I wish I could see you in red more," Charles groans when he sees the thong.

"Mmm I only wear red for Carlos," I say with a smirk knowing how Carlos getting his hands on me before Charles is the only thing Charles is 'jealous' about.

Charles just sends me a dirty look before sending down a harsh slap down on my ass making me whimper at the sting.

"Oh, so first it was Lando all week not knowing how to keep his hands to himself and now you want to go and say stupid things," Charles says with a smirk before picking me up and bringing me to my bed were he plops me down and instantly spreads my legs before sending a slap down on my pussy making a me jump and whimper at the sudden stinging sensations.

"I haven't even touched you and I can tell your soaked," Charles says down at me before moving my things to the side to find my pussy absolutely dripping for him.

"Fuck, so fucking gorgeous," Charles groans before leaning down and taking a small lick through my folds making me gasps when the tip of his tongue grazes my pussy.

"I'll be here for the next hour so you better make yourself comfortable," Charles mumbles into my pussy before he starts eating me out like there's no tomorrow.

It doesn't take long for Charles to bring me over the edge. After going a week without touching myself or any of the boys I was desperate and ready.

"Fuck, CHarles," I moan as I cum on his tongue. Charles makes no attempt at stopping, if anything he sped up his actions making me scream out slightly.

Another 3 orgasms later Charles is finally pulling his drenched face away from my overstimulated pussy clearly being serious about spending the next hours between my thighs because when I turn my head slightly I see the clock just after 11 in the morning.

"Color?" Charles asks while giving me a look of concern when he sees my blissed out state.

Once the group chat started to grow we all started setting ground rules, and almost instantly Carlos had implemented a safe word system as well as a hand signal in case I can't speak, knowing that while right now it was fairly Vanilla there would come a time it was in fact not vanilla and they all agreed that this was meant for my pleasure just as much as theirs.

"Green," I reply softly making Charles smile slightly up at me before he's stripping out of his clothes and grabbing a condom out of my night stand where he finds my vibrator making me look at it in horror and shake my head knowing what he was thinking.

We had also made an agreement that we will always use protection unless it was a private arrangement and conversation

"You mean you didn't touch yourself at all this last week?" Charles asks with a smirk on his face.

"No, you weren't super clear so I just didn't touch at all," I tell him softly making him smirk before putting it back into the drawer and finally grabbing the condom before ripping it open and rolling it on his cock.

Once it was fully on he slowly slides in making both of us moan in contentment before he almost instantly starts thrusting into me no longer being able to restrain himself.

"Fuck, Charlie," I moan when he starts hitting my sweet spot over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful taking me," Charles grunts softly while looking down at me making me moan at his praise.

Charles was filling me up in the best way and I can already feel another orgasm starting to build and I can tell Charles isn't far behind. 'Charles was filling me up in the best way and I can already feel another orgasm starting to build and I can tell Charles isn't far behind.

"Fuck," Charles grunts while throwing his head back before letting out a finally groan of pleasure before cumming with a final thrust sending me over the edge to the feeling of Charles filling the condom up.

"Charlie," I gasp out while he softly thrusts into me helping me ride out my orgasm.

Once we have both come down from our highs Charles slowly pulls his cock out of me before tying off and throwing the condom in the trash before coming back into the room from my bathroom with a warm towel he used to wipe me down softly before climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest.

"I'm gonna fall back to sleep," I mumble against his skin making Charles giggle softly.

"Okay, when Alex wakes up she's gonna grab us all lunch if that's okay," Charles tells me softly making a me nod against his chest before letting sleep consume my body.

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐝—𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: You and Changbin have a deal that everytime the both of you want to get off some steam, you know who to call. The rules were simple. No strings attached. Only fucking. And damn, that was perfect...

Warnings: Mention of academic validation. Smut🔞 Friends with benefits (to lovers at the end), unprotected, rough sex, Bin's cock too big, size kink(?), praising, dirty talk, pet names (doll, baby, princess), name calling (slut. But only once), oral (f. receiving), fingering, overtsim(?), squirting, creampie, cum play(?).

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: Academic validation is my best friend but also my worst enemy. With the stress I'm going through because of college, I felt like writing this. I'd like a rough fuck as a distraction ngl.

And this is probably the filthiest one shots I've written so far— LMFAO.

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 3.5k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You stared at your test paper as if it had personally insulted you, which it kinda did, the big red circle with a "C-" looking right back at you cruelly.

You had put weeks, as in WEEKS of hard work for this test only for you to get a grade that felt like a slap in the face.

The dull ache behind your eyes only intensified as you crumpled the test paper in your fist, a confirmation that no matter how much effort you put in, it never seemed to be enough.

Dragging your bag over your shoulder, you walked briskly out of the lecture hall, dodging classmates who threw each other pitying or triumphant glances. They didn’t get it. They couldn’t.

You had been running yourself ragged with late-night study sessions, caffeine-fueled breakdowns, and an endless loop of second-guessing. All of it for this.

Once you were back at your apartment, you tossed your bag onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. The air felt heavy, suffocating almost.

You needed release, a distraction—something, anything, to snap you out of the vortex of self-doubt threatening to pull you under.

As if he could hear your thoughts, the need for a distraction, your phone buzzed with a notification.

Bin: Wanna fuck?

You playfully scoffed at the screen. His message straightforward as always. You both had been friends for a very long time and you made a deal one night after being dared to kiss during a party, that if in need of blowing off some steam, you knew who to call.

The kiss had your knees weak that you initiated this idea to Changbin—as a joke—but he agreed to it without a second thought. And since that day, whenever either of you needed a quick distraction or are super horny, you were there for eachother.

What an awesome agreement right?

Me: Sure. my place or yours? Bin: Mine. Be here in 30? Me: See you soon.

~

Thirty minutes later, You arrived at his place wearing a hoodie and leggings, the picture of casual. You rang the bell and the moment Changbin opened the door, the tension in the air was palpable.

His eyes scanned you briefly, his lips curving into that familiar smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

Changbin opened the door wider to let you in, he was wearing a tank top and grey sweatpants. Closing the door, he sunk back into his large plush sofa, exhaling sharply.

"Bad day?" You asked curiously.

"Yeah. Accidentally deleted a file that contained a comeback track. Chan's not pissed but I'm disappointed." He said, cracking his knuckles.

You frowned, stepping inside and kicking off your sneakers. “Damn, Bin, that sucks. Did you try recovering it?”

He shook his head, running a hand through his dark hair. “I did, but it’s gone for good."

You made your way over to him, plopping down beside him. "I'm sorry," you said softly, placing your hand on his shoulder.

"You're tense." He murmured looking at you, his voice low, soothing, recognizing the slight difference from your usual voice.

Your throat tightened as you wanted to shrug it off, to bury yourself in the comfort of this arrangement without delving into the emotions clawing at your chest. But Changbin wasn’t letting you hide tonight.

“Talk to me,” he urged, his fingers falling ever so slightly on your waist.

“It’s just…” Your voice cracked, and you looked away, shame flooding your chest. “I’m so tired, Bin. I worked so hard, and I still couldn't get a good grade. It never feels like enough. It’s like no matter what I do, I can’t catch a break.”

His expression softened, his brow furrowing as he cupped your face gently, forcing you to look at him. “Hey,” he said softly, “A red ink on paper doesn't define who you are. Don't be so hard on yourself.”

You blinked up at him, stunned by the sincerity in his voice. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were here for distraction, for release, not to be seen so deeply. But Changbin had a way of disarming you without even trying.

You nodded wordlessly, and something in his gaze shifted. The heat was still there, smouldering just beneath the surface, but it was wrapped in a tenderness that made your chest ache.

“We both had a bad day today I guess,” you said, attempting to brush away the tingling sensation.

“True that,” Bin scoffed, turning away from you for a second.

“Wanna get that frustration out?” you asked, your tone shifting to something more suggestive.

Changbin’s smirk returned, this time sharper, darker. “You offering, princess?”

You leaned closer, your fingers trailing higher up his thigh. “Always.”

In a flash, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into his lap. You gasped, straddling him as his hands gripped your hips firmly, his touch possessive. His dark eyes bore into yours, his frustration melting into something far more primal.

“You’re too good to me,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “Let me return the favour.”

Before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours, the kiss rough and hungry. His hands slid under your hoodie, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes raking over your exposed skin. “You’re gorgeous.”

You barely had time to feel flustered before he claimed your lips again, his hands roaming your body, leaving trails of fire as he unclasped your bra, revealing your breasts to the cool air.

“Stand up,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. Normally you'd fight back, but today you obeyed, feeling your own arousal taking over so fast.

You really needed this distraction.

You stood before him as he tugged your leggings and underwear down in one motion, leaving you completely bare.

Changbin leaned back, his eyes darkening as he took you in. Already fucking you in his head as his gaze never left your pretty pussy.

"What a sight," he said, his voice rough like distant thunder. “Now, come here.”

You climbed back into his lap, your bare skin against his clothed body sending shivers through you. Before he even let you breathe, his mouth closed around your tipping nipple and sucked it, your head fell back gripping on his shoulders.

He played with your breasts, sucking and kneading them with his big hands, making your needy core grind against his clothed bulge. He released the bud with a pop, and pulled you down, crushing his mouth on yours again, slower this time.

“Feel that?” he growled against your lips. “That’s what you do to me.”

You whimpered, rolling your hips against him, the friction making you ache for more. “Bin, please…”

He chuckled darkly, his hands moving to cup your ass, guiding your movements. “What do you need, princess? Tell me.”

“Fuck me.” You gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Changbin swifted you instantly, pressing your back against the sofa as he removed his tank top and slid off his pants. Your eyes trailed every detail of his muscular body, strong biceps and soft torso, the hint of dark hair going further down towards his…

Holy shit.

His huge cock jutted up, hard, leaking pre cum. And THICK. So thick, that it was impossible to take him without prep.

Changbin smirked at the look on your face as your gaze stayed glued to his shaft. His confidence was palpable, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he leaned down over you, caging you beneath his frame, making you swallow hard with anticipation.

His hands slid between your thighs, spreading you open, and a soft gasp escaped your lips when his fingers pressed against your slick heat. He chuckled darkly.

“Already so wet for me.”

“Changbin,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He positioned above you, aligning himself at your entrance. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your folds, and your body tensed. You bucked your hips upwards but Changbin wasn't gonna let you have him that fast.

He knew your body, how it strained to take his girth. And damn he's going to have dessert first. A sweet treat for the bad day right?

Instead of pushing himself inside your aching, needy pussy, he trailed downwards, making a path of hot, wet, open mouth kisses down your body, sucking on your breasts and leaving purplish red marks behind.

Your fingers went through his hair guiding him to give you more. When he reached your core, glistening and clenching around nothing, his warm breath fanned over your velvet folds, making you shiver.

"Relax for me, doll." Bin murmured, his voice low and soothing.

He placed a kitten kiss on your clit—gosh, always so respectful—his tongue swiped through your folds, slow and deliberate, as he pushed two fingers.

Your walls clenched him instantly, the sensation was overwhelming, making you arch your back. The heat of his mouth and the stretch of his fingers combining to ignite every nerve in your body.

“Fuck, Bin,” you gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily as his tongue circled your clit with precision.

He hummed against you, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. “That’s it,” he said, pulling back briefly to look up at you. His dark eyes were molten, his lips glistening with your slick juices.

“Let me hear you, baby. Don’t hold back.”

Your head fell back as his mouth latched onto you again, his fingers curling inside to hit that spot that made you cry out. His free hand slid up your body, gripping your waist firmly, keeping you anchored as you writhed beneath him. He was basically making out with your sloppy cunt.

So sweet and dripping so much just for him, Changbin's forehead beaded with sweat as he focused on your needy pearl, sucking and swirling and finger fucking you till you were whimpering.

Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging them as the pressure built inside you. “Changbin, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he cut you off, his voice commanding. His tongue ruthlessly circled and sucked on your clit that made you squirm and tear erratic moans out of your throat.

The coil in your stomach tightened further as his fingers sped up, his mouth relentless against your pulsing bud. The pleasure crested like a tidal wave, and when it crashed over you, it left you trembling and gasping his name.

Bin didn’t stop right away. His movements slowed to guide you through the aftershocks until your body went limp beneath him. He let you calm down after the high of your first orgasm, your pussy so wet, tight and perfect, he couldn't wait till it wrapped around him.

When his fingers left you, you whimpered at the loss, but the sight of him stroking his cock with your slick arousal, made your breath catch.

Bin smirked mischievously, his chin and lips glistening with your essence, your eyes glassy with need, both your minds fogged and consumed with lust.

“Think you’re ready for me now?” he asked, his voice rough with desire as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours. He slapped the angry tip of his cock against your nub, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

You squirmed and nodded beneath him, biting your lip as the anticipation built.

"Will you let me stretch this tight pussy, doll?" he murmured, his tone dark and teasing, his lips brushing against your ear.

Your cheeks burned, but the desperation in your voice betrayed your need. "Please, Bin… I need you.”

“Yeah?” he taunted, his cock sliding through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. “You want me to fill you up? This little cunt can take all of me right?”

You whimpered, your hips bucking up to meet him. “I can. Please.”

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Such a greedy little thing,” he growled, positioning himself at your entrance. “Want me to wreck you till you can’t think straight, right doll?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling. “I need it, Bin. I need you.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, a wicked smile curling on his lips.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he began to push in. The stretch was intense, his thick velvet shaft sinking into you inch by inch, forcing your walls to adjust to his size.

“Fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his head falling forward as he buried himself deeper. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. Squeezing me like you were made for me.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you moaned. “You’re so big,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with both pleasure and the overwhelming sensation of fullness.

“Damn right I am,” he rasped, pausing to let you adjust before pulling out slightly and pressing back in, each movement slow and deliberate. “And I’m gonna make you feel every inch of me.”

His hips began to pick up a rhythm, the pace rough but controlled, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Look at you,” he groaned, his eyes locking on yours. “Such a good girl for me.”

“Yes,” you gasped, your back arching off the sofa.

He began to move a bit, you moaned softly, rolling your hips to test the way he felt inside you. The movement made him curse under his breath, his control slipping as his grip on you tightened.

“Patience, baby,” he growled, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in with deliberate force. The sudden fullness made you cry out, your nails digging into his biceps.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he said, his thrusts picking up pace. The way his length appeared and disappeared back inside you, the way you writhed beneath him, it made Bin feel like he was in heaven. Literally in heaven.

When the stretchy discomfort was replaced with intense pleasure, he began pounding into you in a bruising force that did feel like he was going to wreck you apart into two.

Your mouth fell open, breasts bouncing with each hard thrust, Bin struggling to keep his balance on the sofa as he hammered into you, making you climb higher and higher in the throes of pleasure.

“You deserve an A-plus for taking my cock so well, doll,” he growled, his voice thick with lust as he leaned over you. His lips brushed against your ear, his hot breath making you shiver beneath him.

You moaned LOUDLY, your walls fluttering around him as you tried to adjust to the punishing rhythm he set. “Bin… you’re too much,” you choked out, your nails scraping down his back in desperation.

He chuckled darkly, slowing his thrusts just enough to pull almost all the way out, teasing you with the head of his cock before plunging back in with a force that made your breath hitch. “You can take it,” he said, his tone low and possessive.

“You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again.” He rasped harshly.

He leaned back slightly and pressed your legs against your chest, sinking deeper into you.

Your moan broke into a cry as he thrust deeper, his words a mix of praise and sinful promises. “Look at you,” he growled, his gaze locking on yours. “Letting me stretch this perfect little pussy like it’s mine.”

You couldn't form any words. The way he kept hitting all the spots, the way he kept calling you his, made you see stars.

The knot in your stomach was close to snapping and you needed release, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, groans and whimpers echoing off the walls of his living room.

“Bin, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he urged, his pace unrelenting.

His words were your undoing, and the orgasm tore through you like a storm. You writhed, body shaking uncontrollably, the thread snapping and you were unable to register the depth of your ecstasy as he pulled out, making you squirt, long and hard, shooting clear streams around him.

You made a huge mess between you two, back arching and squealing moans that drove Changbin out of his goddamn mind.

“Holy fuck," Changbin groaned, his hips stuttering as he felt the wetness that spasmed out of you coat his thighs and the sofa beneath you. His eyes darkened as he looked down at the mess you made.

“Didn’t know you could be this filthy,” his thumb brushing over your sensitive, swollen clit, making you jolt.

“Squirting all over me like a good little slut.”

The mixture of praise and degradation sent you reeling, your head falling back against the cushions as he rubbed your clit and pushed back in, picking up his pace, his cock sliding in and out of you with wet, obscene sounds.

His own release wasn't so far as he followed after you, the way your walls continued to clench around him, sent him spiralling. With a guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you, his seed spilling into you in hot, thick spurts.

His dick throbbed uncontrollably and slowly pulled out, his cum pouring out of your hole and you squirted again. You were FILLED.

His chest heaved as he admired the sight before him, his substances sliding out of your cunt like golden nectar slipping from a comb.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. “Look at you, baby. Completely ruined.”

Your legs trembled as you tried to catch your breath, your body still buzzing (literally) from the aftershocks. His hands found your thighs, spreading you wider, exposing just how thoroughly he had claimed you.

He smirked, holding the base of his length, swiping the tip through the thick white mess painting your swollen pussy, pressing it back inside. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, your body arching into his touch.

“Don’t think you’re done yet, princess,” he murmured, his tone low and teasing. “I’m not letting any of this go to waste. Gotta make sure you keep every drop of me inside.”

“Too much,” you whimpered, but your body betrayed, hips rolling against him as he worked himself into you, pushing deeper. Sticky strings attaching from you to him as he fucked his cum back inside you.

“Too much?” he echoed with a dark chuckle. “You will take it, won't you?”

“Yeah, yeah…” You nodded gasping then your head lolled back, another moan escaping your lips when he leaned down, his mouth brushing against the swell of your breast, hand circling your puffy, cum filled pussy and your body trembling with overstimulation.

His voice softened, a hint of tenderness breaking through his rough words.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this, baby. Beautifully wrecked, and,” he nipped your sensitive skin, “Professor Bin grades you an A-plus.”

A breathless laugh escaped your lips at his teasing, he knew how much you love getting the perfect grade, though it quickly turned into a soft gasp as Changbin pressed another kiss on your skin.

His warm breath fanned over you, sending shivers up your spine despite the heat radiating between your sweaty bodies.

The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, the intimacy in his eyes almost overwhelming. For a moment, the rough edges of your deal blurred, replaced by something raw and more vulnerable.

He reached closer, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping the streaks of tears that had rolled down your face.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice low and earnest. The contrast to his earlier teasing tone made clenched your heart.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you placed your hand over his. "I'm okay. Just...a little overwhelmed. And stretched maybe," you admitted chuckling.

“I didn’t mean to push too hard, I'm sorry,” he murmured, brushing away a strand of hair from your face and leaning down brushing his lips against your temple. “I just got caught up in you. You’re…everything.”

His words sent a new kind of warmth through you, one that made you feel loved rather than overwhelmed. You smiled up at him, your hand slipping from his to cup his cheek. “I wanted it, Bin. All of it. I promise.”

Changbin leaned forward, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that seemed to melt the tension from your body. "I’ve always got you, baby," he murmured against your mouth.

The words hung in the air, their meaning lingering even as he pulled back, going into the bathroom to be back with a warm cloth.

He gently wiped you, opposite from the man who wrecked you into oblivion a few moments before, his hands moving to guide your legs around his waist. He shifted, settling beside you on the sofa, pulling you into his arms as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

The two of you lay there in silence for a while, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek grounding you. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your spine, soothing in a way that felt achingly intimate.

"Bin," you whispered after a long pause, tilting your head to look up at him.

"Yeah?" His voice was soft, his eyes searching yours.

"What...what are we doing?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly as you voiced the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind.

For a moment, he didn't answer, his gaze dropping to where his fingers rested against your skin. Then he let out a quiet sigh, his hand coming up to cup your face. "I don't know," he admitted, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“But I think we both know that this is more than just…casual.”

Your breath hitched, the sincerity in his voice making your chest ache. "I think so too." you said slowly.

Changbin's lips curved into a small smile. "Then let’s figure it out," he said, his forehead resting against yours. "No more rules. It's just you and me now. Okay?”

Slight tears pricked your eyes, but this time they were tears of relief, of something that felt dangerously close to happiness.

"Okay," you murmured, a bright smile blooming on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck, savouring his warmth, who hugged you back cherishing you in his embrace.

Rules are meant to be broken. And some lines are meant to be crossed.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

[littledark11]

"Your hands hit the mattress and grasped at the silken sheets, as if that would save you."

The bed is going to soften you when loki is pounding you.

"Your stomach dropped. What if it was a test; what if he was joking?"

Yeah he's going to test how many fucks does it takes until he breaks you.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear that when you are mine, you are mine; utterly.”

Hehehehe that made me giggle and kick my feet.

“After that, I’m afraid you will be ruined for all others…” A devilish smirk lit at the corners of his mouth."

I got chills when he said it, I can't explain why I just imagine the way he said it, he's so sure of himself lol.

"We have talked long enough, you and I. I would very much like to fuck you…" His eyebrows rose. "I will, fuck you. I will have you; utterly."

Never mind I got goosebumps so badly, he's so confidently and so sure of himself I love it!!

"How many times I’ve wanted to pin you against the wall and fuck you until all thoughts of other men were shaken from your mind forever."

"Beg…my pretty, pretty whore.”

Prove it punk!! 😏😏😏

My legs twitched when I read that 😫😫😫 it felt nice and tingly hehehe.

“Maybe you’re my whore, Odinson. Did you consider that?”

Hehehe oOoOh how the table has turned? I mean he is a pretty whore.

“The next time I see you, it will be in white.”

hehehe that better be a promise. Because I would do this 10 times on purpose.

“I think they might know that already if the maids who caught you pleasuring me in the kitchens last week weren’t mute—and besides, perhaps they’ll just think my intended is a bad influence.”

Oh fuck me 10 times over, that sounds amazing and very scandalous. You're killing me woman and I'm enjoying every moment of it ❤️

“When you’re my wife, you shall never be rid of me.”

What the fuck?!? My heart dropped!, I'm like damn he got super jealous now he wants to wife me up!!, I should have done it in the beginning!

You are such a peach 🍑🍑

I love reading your stories,when I'm happy or when I'm sad, you make my day either way

Mine, Utterly [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After making Prince Loki a little jealous, he lays down the law on the eve of an important occasion. (w/c 2.1k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Minors DNI. Dirty talk, language.

Your hands hit the mattress and grasped at the silken sheets, as if that would save you.

“My Prince,” you gasped, breaths scorching against your lungs as he ripped the chiffon around your thighs.

All you’d done was smile at the guard. Okay, maybe flirt a little…just enough to rouse the jealousy Loki had suggested with a mischievous shine in his eyes before taking his place on the Royal banqueting dais.

A palm landed on your exposed ass cheek. Crying out, you shot a glance over your shoulder. Prince Loki stood, storms in his darkened eyes, the leather belt that had been slung across his chest now dangling from a fist. "You dare to make a god jealous?"

Your stomach dropped. What if it was a test; what if he was joking? But for all his antics, the Prince wasn’t known for his humour when it came to matters of the heart—or the flesh. He didn’t share, and as that thought sank in, the knuckles on the fist whitened. You inhaled sharply, grip tightening on the sheets.

Something struck your ass again, but this time it gripped. Loki’s back was pressed to yours. The emeralds studded into the intricately constructed doublet pinched through the thin fabric of your bodice as he whispered, “Perhaps I wasn’t clear that when you are mine, you are mine; utterly.”

His knuckles trailed down your bicep, those fingers that had been wet with your cum too many times to count in palace corridors and dark corners dancing across your skin. Those digits had fastened around your wrist and torn you away from the feasting hall, his obligations forgotten, and whisked you in an explosion of green light to the candlelit expanse of your own bedroom.

Now, Loki’s cock pressed through the layers of leather and velvet covering it right into the swell of your ass. It was a familiar feeling—but he’d always resisted. Only his fingers, his tongue, his words—that was the only relief he gave you over past months since your arrival at court. Never his pleasure—never his cock.

Norns, how you wanted to fuck him; wanted to ride him until his own name scattered on the wind like ash, feel him slam into your cunt until his brilliant mind was a blur of lines like wine spilled on parchment. You wondered how your name sounded on his lips when he came: staggered, gasping, choking for mercy.

His nose drew a line up your neck, inhaling at the pulse point like a hound. “You are mine, aren’t you?” he murmured.

In answer, your hand slid up his temple and knotted into Loki’s hair. A growl built in his throat, swelling your confidence in time with the heat throbbing between your legs. “No more, and no less, than you are mine, Loki Odinson.”

His teeth sank into your shoulder, just enough to make you squirm against his cock. He spun you around, tipping your over the edge of the mattress while he towered in a silhouette of black and forest green pulsating in amber flickers.

His fingers made quick work of the laces at his groin and then, his legendary, iron cock was in his hand. It was even more perfect that you’d dreamed. A well of saliva rose indelicately beneath your tongue. Loki stroked it, back and forth, as you watched: hypnotised.

“Tonight, I will show you what it is to be mine,” he said, low and thicker than molasses on a winter’s eve. “After that, I’m afraid you will be ruined for all others…” A devilish smirk lit at the corners of his mouth. Your heart pounded as you sat up on the bed, trying frantically to untangle the dress sprawled around your hips. Loki’s knees hit the mattress.

"Allow me," he said, before ripping the dress from your body in one, swift movement.

Your eyes widened as it fluttered to the floor. Only the corset remained. "My Prince…I," you said, attempting to keep the game fluid; but Loki pressed a finger to your lips with a hush. It was still warm from the friction of his cock.

"We have talked long enough, you and I. I would very much like to fuck you…" His eyebrows rose. "I will, fuck you. I will have you; utterly."

As the final syllable melted, so did his clothes. The emerald encrusted doublet was first, then the sigils of his station, then the boots and—oh, gods—the leather trousers.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him: carved like marble, the tremor of his muscle beneath taut skin as he rested back on his heels, thighs spread, enough to make you howl. Loki’s chin dipped to his chest, unbound hair falling around his milky shoulders like hot tar over battlements. His cheekbones flashed in pulsing candlelight as he said with a touch of malice, "I will not be kept waiting. Not anymore," but his eyes glinted.

You crawled the space between you and hoisted onto his lap. With your arms around his neck, your bare cunt pressed against the throb of his flesh, you couldn’t imagine it ever not being thus. And then, you kissed him; one sliding into the next like spring into summer, like night into day.

Loki’s kisses were a medley of ravenous restraint; morphing like his magic between complete desperation and tenderness. His hands cupped your ass, scooting you further up his lap. The tip of his cock rubbed against your slit.

"I want to consume you," he whispered, lips wet from your kisses. "And you will never be anothers."

"Never." A ragged moan ripped the air as you sank onto his length. Loki’s groan of pleasure was everything you’d dreamt of—a primal flash beneath the regal façade you wanted to tear at with your bare hands. His chin tipped back, nailing you with his dilated stare as his hips pushed up.

"Loki," you gasped, clutching at his back muscle. He was huge. The Prince bottomed out, teeth clenching. 

"You’ve no idea how much I craved this little cunt," he panted as your hands fisted in his hair. "How many times I’ve wanted to pin you against the wall and fuck you until all thoughts of other men were shaken from your mind forever."

The squelch of your pussy jammed with his cock punctuated every word. "How you’ve teased me, played with me; ruined me—all for the want of the Valhalla I knew would be between your legs."

Loki’s head fell back with broken cry of anguish as you clench around the root of his cock, dragging up before slamming down onto the meat of his thighs.

“Fuck, kvinne…now I find myself tricked…” he said, breathless. The god’s head rose, strands of sex damp hair plastered across his brow. "I want you more than ever."

His eyes narrowed, and then his lips collided to yours, tongue demanding entry with the sureness of a tide on the shore. His nails dug into the curve of your waist, guiding your hips. Every gyration made new sparks burst to life, sizzling from your clit to the deepest parts of your body and mind that had never been so alive.

“I will never be sated,” Loki growled, thrusting faster, “Never…never.” With a rumble, he flipped you onto your back. Loki’s lips worked down the hard sinews of your neck, sucking against supple skin, palming your breasts upward. He was possessed. Loki’s name was a chant in your throat, the absence of his cock inside you becoming unbearable.

"Fuck me," you whined, and Loki looked up from where he’d been distracted with your nipple between his teeth.

“Ruined for all others,” confirmed Loki, smirking. He crawled over your body, settling his legs on either side and drawing the leaking head of himself through your sopping folds. “Beg for it.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Beg…my pretty, pretty whore.” Loki’s lips grazed across your cheek like wind through barley; a short, trembling sigh flooding your ear.

“Maybe you’re my whore, Odinson. Did you consider that?”

His thick cock twitched against your heat as he stared down at you with your perfectly styled hair mussed, your thighs spread, your lips bitten and stinging, before he whispered, “I consider everything.” Dark curls hung down either side of his jaw, framing the angle of his jawline as he licked his lips and settled into a cage around your head. The muscles of his forearms twitched with the effort of not fucking you into the mattress. The words bubbled in your throat, spilling forth before you could second guess them. “Well, if you’re my whore, then satisfy me.”

“Tell me you’re mine.” Those words shaped his tongue like summer storms. “And you will have everything you desire; always.”

You scraped hair back from his face, the beat of his heat thumping through his skin. His hips dragged against your clit, making your knees tighten around his ribs. “I’m yours,” you whispered, “Utterly.” Loki’s cock squeezed inside, and his face twisted in relief absolute. One of his hands flew to the ornate headboard; whacks of ancient wood against stone sounding with every thrust. His pubic hair dragged against your swollen clit, moans mingling with the fragrance of sweat and sex that clung to your bodies and rose like steam.

The god knew your body like you thought only you did, and every grip of his hands, shift of his hips, work of his mouth—you couldn’t catch your breath. His lust was the chop of waves, drowning you on the undertow of his strength, and scent and the hair brushing your lips as he fucked you. You never had a chance. Need scorched up your skin as climax broke. It flooded through your body, Loki’s name a rattle in your throat as his exhales of pleasure pounded in your ear. He hissed as fingernails dragged down the wide expanse of his back, the slide of his cock primal and wet, balls smacking against cum-slick skin.

The prince’s thrusts slowed, rocking you through the final threads of orgasm stringing you together. You gaped at him, heavy eyed and open mouthed as his torso rose between your legs, his palms splayed on your thighs, his abdomen flexing with every glacial, devastating thrust.

Loki’s head fell back, his black curls a sheet down the faint flush of pale skin.

The veins in his neck hardened, jaw clenched to the ceiling as deep lines settled on his brow. Your breath hitched.

Every glide of his cock was met by the gluttonous squelch of your cum. Loki rocked on his heels, guiding himself over the edge inside your perfect cunt.

“Gods,” he choked to the murals above the bed. And then, he came.

His face screwed up as the wave hit was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Loki’s groan trembled through your skin, beneath your flesh and vibrating your bones. His fingers tightened, and you knew that tomorrow your gown would hide the evidence of obsession marked in blue and purple shadows of devotion.

Devotion, you thought lazily as he gasped out the syllabled of your name and collapsed on your chest; meeting your lips with open mouthed enthusiasm.

Somewhere, a bell tolled. Loki sighed, slipping himself out of you with a mutter of irritation. He clicked his fingers, and the elaborate garb assembled on him like a blossom of ink. His lip curled. “The next time I see you, it will be in white.”

“Mmm…” “And yet they will have no clue what a fantastically depraved wretch for me that my intended is.” “I think they might know that already if the maids who caught you pleasuring me in the kitchens last week weren’t mute—and besides, perhaps they’ll just think my intended is a bad influence.”

“Gods, I hope so,” Loki murmured against your skin before biting your cheek softly, melting into a kiss. “Until tomorrow, then.” Loki drew away, his eyes serious but a small smile playing at his lips. “When you’re my wife, you shall never be rid of me.” “Gods, I hope so,” you echoed, and in the space of a heartbeat, Loki vanished.

Tags in comments! 🤗

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 5- Miles Between Us

Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.

Word Count: 5.0K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit

A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Age 17, Spring of 2006

“You’re late, Morales.” 

“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.” 

It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice,  he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments. 

And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else. 

“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve. 

“No. Don’t worry about it.” 

There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?” 

You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using. 

You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Well obviously something’s wrong.” 

“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?” 

“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?” 

“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?” 

“I’m not upset!” 

“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-” 

“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”

Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him. 

Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon. 

There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be. 

“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?” 

His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins. 

“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.” 

“It’s not a joke.” 

His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time. 

It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you. 

“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-” 

“I didn’t get in.” 

Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke. 

You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock. 

“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?” 

“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!” 

He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has. 

“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.” 

It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand. 

“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation. 

You can’t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say. 

“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?” 

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.  

“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds. 

“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” 

“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”

“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-” 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.” 

Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive. 

“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.” 

Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest. 

You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to. 

“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear. 

“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you. 

His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you. 

It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed. 

“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?” 

It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving. 

“Not ‘til the end of the summer.” 

“Where?” 

The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace. 

“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.” 

He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for. 

And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified. 

“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.” 

You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home. 

You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers. 

“You promise you’ll come home, right?” 

“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.” 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too. 

“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.” 

“Anything?” 

It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness. 

“Anything.” 

“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you’re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.” 

The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did. 

“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.” 

Frankie, Present 

Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point. 

He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings. 

At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you. 

Well, he can’t think about you as much. 

It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him. 

He let you take the first  shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run. 

It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you. 

“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!” 

“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.” 

“You barely run the mile in gym class.” 

“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.” 

There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you. 

But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to. 

Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans. 

And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day. 

Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement. 

“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.” 

“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings. 

“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.” 

“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.” 

“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.” 

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.  

“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).” 

His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past. 

“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible. 

He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him. 

He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer. 

Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school. 

The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too. 

It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school. 

It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble. 

It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed. 

Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.

Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to. 

Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him. 

“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”  

His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage. 

It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment. 

With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him. 

August 18th, 2006

Frankie, 

I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage. 

Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe 

I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)

I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL. 

Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person! 

I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha). 

I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo. 

From, 

Kenz :) <3

His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line. 

October 13th, 2009

Frankie, 

I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe. 

My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet. 

I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do. 

Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.  

Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie. 

Kenzie 

He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. 

It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong. 

February 4th, 2011

Hey, 

If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways. 

I guess I’ll see you when I see you. 

MacKenzie 

And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business. 

Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull. 

Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done? 

Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.

He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.

He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.

He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.

If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.

If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995 @beezusvreeland

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[louisferrignojr]

i keep saying i'm not going to pay this show any more attention and I keep coming back with more thoughts and i decided to inflict them on all of y'all so here goes

hot take: the brad/hotshots storyline isn't inherently bad. it was entertaining. it was fun and campy, classic 911. i love it when shows get a bit meta. we stay sillay.

however it all falls completely flat, and here's why:

they butchered the main storylines they had set up at the end of s7 — Hen and Karen vs Ortiz (and Gerrard), the 118 vs Gerrard vs Tommy (don't play, they wrote it out with big block letters), Bobby's suicidal ideation, abrupt resignation and relationship conflict with Athena, not to mention NDE. the only storyline they seem to have spent any time on is Eddie and Chris — thank fucking fuck, some good food for Eddie.

they have disregarded previously established side characters in favour of developing Brad Torrence. where the fuck is Ravi? where's Sue, where's Linda? why is Josh only there as a mouthpiece to deliver a cringeworthy self-congratulatory speech praising Ryan Murphy's previous — and still DEEPLY biphobic — work?

the hotshots storyline of 8x07 and 8x08 should have taken place WAY later in the season: only after spending time giving their existing characters and relationships the focus they so sorely need.

Hen and Karen and their struggles with Mara being with Chimney and Maddie — where was the conflict between Hen and Chimney? blink and you miss it in 8x01. why was everything wrapped up so fucking quickly in 8x04? the pacing of that episode was INSANE. they could have drawn it out until the mid-season finale, and ended it on a positive note of Mara coming home.

Maddie and Chimney have had almost nothing all of 8a — what looked like a conversation about family planning, addressing their past issues, deciding to stick together and make it work this time, it was building up to something so good — and it crumbled before my eyes with the accidental pregnancy reveal. because we're dealing with teenagers who don't know how birth control works, not two grown adults in their 40s with a history of PPD. be so for fucking real.

and then: why bring back a homophobic, racist, sexist character, have him act EXACTLY like his old self — including throwing a subtle slur at his old subordinate who's just come out of the closet — and then reduce him to a cartoonish villain — did they perhaps realise that bringing back Gerrard was a big mistake? that no one wants to see this type of villain anymore? that his return undercut the justice of him getting fired by the LAFD for his bigoted behaviour? much to ponder.

Athena and Bobby nearly died, they lost their house in a fire (hello? ptsd flashbacks? no? okay.), then Athena nearly died AGAIN, but we don't need to linger on any of this. back to work, you two. Bobby, you get your firehouse back. Athena, back to doing bad cop shit, i guess. (they had a nice relationship moment with the house hunting and deciding to build etc in 8x04, and that's about it).

Buck had a consistent storyline between 8x01 - 8x04: struggling being under Gerrard, getting to work with Bobby again, and finally getting his captain back on a permanent basis. then we got 8x05 with Tommy — an episode dedicated on the intimacy and depth of their relationship — which they then completely fucked it up in 8x06. yes, the "past connection" reveal was a terribly done messy retcon of the entirety of s1 if you ask me, and a disservice to all three characters: Buck, Tommy, and Abby. the backlash from the GA following the breakup speaks for itself. but they then went to make a big joke of Buck coping with the breakup in 8x07 and 8x08. because we can't be serious about anything, ever. and again — I get it. it's the weewoo show. but don't tell me they haven't previously done well thought-out, touching storytelling. anyway, this got a little derailed because i'm still so fucking salty — the bottom line is, however they butchered Buck's storyline, at least he's had something meaningful.

the only other main that has had a meaningful storyline in 8a is Eddie. they've shown him struggling with being away from Christopher in almost every episode. i can't say i'm a big fan of the way 8x06 went for him (literally. enough with the movie references. tim minear have a fucking original thought for once). but I'm loving where his storyline is headed. that was a good 'cliffhanger' if you will. go back to your roots baby! go reconcile with your son — own up to your mistakes! talk to him about his mother! go to father-son therapy together! -> so much wishful thinking, y'all. we'd be lucky to get 1/10th of this on the show, but whatever.

tldr: no one gives a flying fuck about hotshots or brad because while we love the silly weewoo show, we need something to chew on before you toss us a half-baked dessert. to quote lou ferrigno jr, i am not satisfied.

[ombiblombi]

P.AI.nter is SUCH an interesting character to me... he's probably become one of my all time favorites, as I haven't fixated on a character this hard since since...TMC. It physically hurts to think about it in the best way possible-

That being said, I have SO MANY THOUGHTS to say about 'em... so I'm going to dump them here.

First and formost, it's so interesting that P.AI.nter has such a wide array of emotions when it comes to attacking and interacting with the Expendables. At first it's strange, like "WTF?? You're trying to kill me and you just yelled how I was boring, wdym you're sorry??" But... knowing his lore and backstory, it makes so much sense.

P.AI.nters creator was gunned down on accident by Urbanshade, which upon the discovery of P.AI.nter, then decided to trap him in a harddrive and make it mine whats essenically crypto at the Hadal Site- For years, it's stuck mining for the company unwillingly, unable to draw the lanscapes it loved. For fucks sake, P.AI.nter tried to FRY HIS CIRCUTS just to get out. He's desprate, miserable and lonely, and just wants to escape- Any way possible.

And so when Sebastian comes reeks his havoc on the site and finds it, P.AI.nter is incredibly trusting of him to get them both out. Maybe alittle too trusting, but whats he got left to loose? They've both been used by the company and want nothing more to leave, leave and never return. So when Sebastian connects it to the servers- to the Navi-Path & Turrets and tells him to stop the Expendables, P.AI.nter does.

However.

This is self preservation down here. P.AI.nter of course, is rightfully angry at times. I mean- The same company that killed it's creator before his very (nonexistant) eyes, trapped it down here, and even sucked the joy he has from creating art away is now actively getting in the way of the freedom he yearns for. But at the same time... this isn't something done that it entirely wants to be doing. Like I said. This is self preservation. And his actions, and even your deaths weigh heavy. Theres a voiceline, and its delievered so well- Of P.AI.nter pleading for the player to wake up and apologizing profusely if it kills you.

That line sparked this whole theory in the first place.

Your death, reminds it of his creator.

Isn't it ironic how it's now manning the very same weapon that killed the one who brought him sentience in the first place? That he's now the one at fault? Thats gotta be on the back of his mind each and every time it leads an expendable to their demise.

This isn't personal.

He doesn't know who you are.

But it still hurts.

It really annoys me when people in the community call P.AI.nter two faced, or god forbid, do the shitty thing of saying in a derogatory manner that he's bipolar or such as a "joke". Thats just disrespectful to both the character and folks who do have it. It's just plain rude. People do something similar for Sebastian, saying that oh, they're ruining his character by making him mean and snarky and whatnot. I know this happens in every fandom out there, and that this rant is fruitless, but... people need to understand that characters like P.AI.nter and Sebastian have reasons behind their actions and have existing trauma that if you take a moment to look at, you can go "Wowie! Thats a complex character! Everything makes so much sense now, like a puzzle peice I can see traces of in their character in almost every aspect!" Rather than doing awful things like I brought up at the start. But... I digress. I know this rant wont change much so. I hope y'all enjoyed my mini character analysis

Anyway this video has all of P.AI.nters voicelines if 'ya wanna go have a listen after this :] also I got plenty more thoughts about P.AI.nter and Sebastian if anyone wants to know!

[volno-pesh]

That's disgusting. You all are so chronically online I'm tired of you all making nazi jokes. First I thought "white, blonde and blue eyes + german? suspicious" but then the fucking ss shit and like oh my god is artist really making such joke? I don't care if it's sarcasm because that's can be sarcastic joke + actual joke but over all, it's just disgusting. They literally made a comic where nazi is right. Not like some minorities right, just right. And somebody called it gay what????

I feel out of place, somebody find this funny?? Well yeah yk genocide is funny, oh didn't you know genocide was funny? Didn't you know over 50 million people dying horrible death is somehow funny now? I'm literally and honestly so tired of ww2 treated like this. I'm tired of you all here treating it like this. Because literally nobody else makes such jokes. Nobody who knows at least SOME bit of history would make this shit.

Also in nazis beliefs it wasn't like "oh I love white people", it was more like "Aryans are better form of a human, they are just better and every other are second sort and lower" (fyi Aryans is the race that was "pale white, blonde and had blue eyes")

Of course German would make something like this

[escapedaudios]

Popular YouTubers "reacting" to audio roleplay by trying to exaggerate how cringe they think it is fucking exhausts me man. Half the time they do Cinema Sins-style commentary but from this "what if I don't like beans" point of view of just refusing to suspend disbelief and roleplay as the listener character. The commentary is always them talking back at the audio like "uh, you're not my boyfriend, actually my boyfriend's name is Steven and he's in the living room right now" or just failing to accept the premise of the video they clicked on. Acting shocked when a character kisses them and going "UHHH WHY IS HE KISSING ME". It's because you clicked on a boyfriend ASMR video tagged [kissing], that's why. Don't be dense.

It feels like they want for it to be way more cringe than it actually is, so they put on this exaggerated display, or act shocked that an audio matches its premise. This shit would be like making a video called "Reacting to Horror Movies (try not to cringe)" and being like "UHHH WHY IS THE KNIFE GUY STABBING PEOPLE???? I'M SO UNCOMFORTABLE". Man shut up. Then there's YouTubers reacting to videos that are very obviously ironic, absurdist humor and refusing to get that it's a joke. No, "Boyfriend Gets Hit By a Car [Spicy]" isn't actually supposed to be spicy, it's a joke.

These reaction videos are, for many outside of the niche, their only window into audio roleplays. Anything that has a plot that takes more than two minutes to understand is left out because they don't have the patience to watch the whole thing and only want to "react" to thirty-second clips. Anything that doesn't look like it'll make for good cringe bait is left out because they decided ahead of time that they want to cringe to it.

The whole medium is already so unfairly stigmatized and poorly understood by most people. It's so agonizing seeing this be our community's main source of free publicity. I know I've taken a few shots at cheap fluff boyfriend/girlfriend ASMR before but like, it's friendly jabbing from someone very much adjacent to them. I still understand the value that comfort roleplays have to their audiences, even if their plots aren't as deep. The whole medium-wide dismissal that these YouTubers give for some cheap reaction content on a newer medium they don't understand is actually the worst.

I need to make a video essay or something to act as propaganda for audio roleplays because the publicity we get passively could not be worse I swear to God.

[lavellaned]

Actually I think one of the reasons why this game is so awful to get through is how it treats abuse, abusers, and abuse victims.

Under cut due to length of rambling:

First of all, Morrigan. Abused as a child by her mother, Flemeth aka Mythal, learned about the world and how to interact with it in a skewed way. Was treated in a way that no child should be by anyone let alone their parent.

Fast forward to Inquisition, particularly a worldstate in which Kieran is alive. The scene in the fade where Morrigan confronts Flemythal is one of the most important and special scenes in all of dragon age to me.

Growing up through abuse as a child you never think "I don't deserve this", you mainly think things like "Why is this happening to me?" and "Bad things happen to me." You know that these things are bad and make you feel bad, but when your baseline for how you should experience the world is abusive, you don't have the point of reference to think otherwise. And then you grow up. You look back on the abuse through the eyes of the child who experienced it but also through the detached, adult view that you currently have and have to reconcile the two. It's not easier nor pleasant. Getting to the age your abuser was/getting into the position of power your abuser had over you is difficult. Being at that stage and picturing yourself doing what was done to you to someone else is fucking sickening, and then you start to realize "I wasn't the problem, it WASN'T my fault, YOU are the one that's fucked up." But a lot of people can't and therefore the cycle of abuse continues.

But Morrigan does. She straight up tells her abuser "I will not be the mother you were to me." To have a character who survived childhood abuse be able to reach a point in their life where they can take back their personhood from their abuser is pretty damn important, actually. To this day I get weepy just thinking about it.

And then fucking veilguard happened.

Not only does it not matter if Kieran is alive or if Morrigan drank from the well (something that would BIND HER SPIRIT TO HER ABUSER), but Morrigan straight up let Mythal hitch a ride in her. The very thing that Morrigan tried to prevent ever since the first goddamn game? And we're all just supposed to accept and be ok with this?

The only way I can see this not being a complete character assassination of Morrigan is if Mythal just straight up possessed her unwillingly/killed her. Have Mythal use Morrigan as a information receptacle for new players, but also use old players' already-implemented relationship with her as a way to manipulate them. Either way, shit sucks.

Then there's the Crows. You know, the guild who takes children from brothels, orphanages, the streets and puts them through Hunger Games levels of training in which they either die or survive to become a slave assassin for the rest of their life. Not in veilguard. We're all just one big happy family. We rule Antiva, yippee!

Finally, there's Solas. One could argue his entire existence is the product of abuse, and everything that has happened in Thedas is because of it. I think framing his regrets as physical manifestations that want to kill him is a really interesting narrative choice. Unlocking the regret murals was one of the very few parts of this game that invoked a strong emotional response from me, not just because I'm an unapologetic Solas Enjoyer but because the implications are heartbreaking.

And then the game has you sit through the most fucking unbearable CBT group therapy session to talk about them with some of the most annoying damn people in Thedas who treat the literal apocalyptic levels of abuse Solas went through for millennia as something like a joke? And we the player are not given the option to challenge this? This game makes the point to force the player to agree with the flippant attitudes brought up from this.

Then brings up the final scene with Solas. Do I think the meeting with Mythal and Solas was handled well? Yes and no, but that's for another time. Solas is so far in the trenches of the trauma of abuse that he will not stop until his abuser pretty much tells him "I'm done abusing you." I think this was good and bad, again another time.

The way Solas interacts with his abuser is the direct flipside of how Morrigan does. You see more than one way someone can heal/not heal from it.

Morrigan, someone with arguable little power in the world, stands up against her abuser unflinchingly.

Solas, described through history as a GOD, someone with unfathomable amounts of knowledge and power, cowers and offers his abuser a literal weapon to kill him with, unprompted.

If this was a good game, it would be about regret but also about survivor's guilt, something that those who survived abuse have to deal with for the rest of their lives. But it's not, because it's a a bad game.

[letmerideitchris]

𐬺𝐕𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐𐬺

summary: Chris matt and nick get a new videographer, she is funny, smart and pretty, basically everything Chris could ever want in a girl. Chris finds it impossible to not fall for her…

Warnings: angst, yelling, cursing, mentions of killing (in a joking way)

Wc: 1009

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

“Chris would you like to tell us what the fuck we just walked in on?” matt says sternly

Y/n had previously left the house out of embarrassment to what nick and matt had walked into.

“does anyone know where some bleach is? My eyes need some” nick says looking around

“guys you're being dramatic, I'm sorry i couldn’t resist, she’s everything i have ever wanted” chris says as he looks down at the floor

“that is the least of our problems right now, shes meant to be coming over tomorrow to film a vlog for us, that is going to be so awkward thanks to you dick face” nick says hitting chris’ shoulder

“yeah chris, you need to sort it out and apologize because you are runing it for us”

“but I'm not sorry and i am quite looking forward to seeing her tomorrow even though it will be awkward…” Chris says slightly smiling at the thought of her

“im not sure if shes looking forward to seeing you, she just ran away” matt says looking at the open front door y/n previously left through.

“chris you make me want to kill you, is it hard being this dumb?”

“guys can you show some sort of sympathy? Like imagine the girl of your dreams is actually interested in you and then your brothers walk in on you fucking and she runs out of embarrassment?” chris says

“No i actually cannot imagine that i am gay if you forgot dumb shit” nick says in a duh tone

“you guys are ridiculous” chris mumbles annoyed as he makes his way downstairs to his bedroom.

The next morning chris is laying in bed half asleep, wishing she was beside him. But hes quickly taken out of his trance when he hears the doorbell, the sound he was dreading yesterday but wishing upon now.

“i’ll get it!” matt yells from upstairs

But when he turns to the door chris is already unlocking it

Nick is sitting on the couch with an unamused face, when matt looks over at him “look at this desperate dickhead”

“hes never gonna learn, fuck sake” nick eyerolls

When chris opens the door, y/n is taken aback by his face. y/n looks down at the floor and says quietly “oh… hi chris”

chris’ smile quickly fades as he hears her tone and realizes his excitement isn't mutual.

“hi y/n, come upstairs, can I get you a water or?-”

“uh no i should be good..thanks..”

Chris takes a seat on the couch wondering why y/n is acting so weird towards him. What did he do wrong? Did he say something bad?

The boys all give y/n a hug greeting her, besides chris.

“matt would you mind getting me some water? I’m really thirsty?” y/n says looking at matt

Chris looks over at her with a confused look across his face

“yeah of course, nick can you come with me, i think these two need to talk it out..” matt lowers his tone at the end so only nick can hear his last comment

Chris and y/n are both sitting on opposite sides of the couch looking at each other waiting for one to speak up.

“y/n, whats wrong?” chris speaks up

“have a think chris, have a think.”

Chris is using all of his brain and is trying to peice together what could be wrong. And then something clicks in his mind and realizes what has happened. He looks up with a concerned look on his face

“is this about yesterday, y/n? If it is im really sor-”

y/n cuts him off “chris do you not realize what we did and how this will affect our relationship and my job”

Chris is shocked by what she said “wait so your saying you regret what we did? I-I really thought we had something, something that would last, something you would care about” he says as he raises his voice and stands up angrily from the couch.

“no i don't regret it, that's not what I'm saying. I just think we should've been more careful or waited a bit longer” y/n says avoiding eye contact

“so you do regret it huh?” he starts to walk off then she grabs him by the arm

“no, chris just calm down i am not done-”

“well i sure am, get out of my house please”

y/n opens her purse quxckly, chris is standing there waiting for something that could save this relationship but instead it is something that will change their lives forever.

y/n slides a positive pregnancy test along the coffee table.

“as i was saying, we should've been more careful, should've waited longer, not saying i regret it.” she says shaking with tears forming on her waterline

She closes her purse, gets up, looks into the kitchen to see matt and nick both staring in such a state of shock. Tears start rolling down her face as she looks back at chris’ guilty and worried face. She wipes her tears and continues to leave.

The door slams

“i could choke you to death right now chris, not much is stopping me” nick says furiously as he follows y/n out of the house

Chris is still standing there in disbelief staring at that positive test.

“chris, ill get you some water, all you can do right now is sit down and try and relax yourself. Don't text anyone and don't listen to what nick is saying even though he is right, i know you would be really stressed right now and nothing he has to say will help.” matt says patting chris on the back gently

chris sits down on the couch shaking with tears falling down his face onto his pants, he can't seem to look away from the test. Regret and guilt clouds his mind and all he is thinking about is y/n.

“m-matt” chris stutters, matt turns back around to face chris, you can tell even matt is stressed out

“i, i am going to be a d - dad”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @riggysworld @chrissturnsss @sophand4n4

@chrispycremedonut