#but writing it would mean that I would have to figure out all the rules and the terminology and also the *ethics* of them hooking up
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Michael Tomasky at The New Republic:
I’ve had a lot of conversations since Tuesday revolving around the question of why Donald Trump won. The economy and inflation. Kamala Harris didn’t do this or that. Sexism and racism. The border. That trans-inmate ad that ran a jillion times. And so on. These conversations have usually proceeded along lines where people ask incredulously how a majority of voters could have believed this or that. Weren’t they bothered that Trump is a convicted felon? An adjudicated rapist? Didn’t his invocation of violence against Liz Cheney, or 50 other examples of his disgusting imprecations, obviously disqualify him? And couldn’t they see that Harris, whatever her shortcomings, was a fundamentally smart, honest, well-meaning person who would show basic respect for the Constitution and wouldn’t do anything weird as president?
The answer is obviously no—not enough people were able to see any of those things. At which point people throw up their hands and say, “I give up.” But this line of analysis requires that we ask one more question. And it’s the crucial one: Why didn’t a majority of voters see these things? And understanding the answer to that question is how we start to dig out of this tragic mess.
The answer is the right-wing media. Today, the right-wing media—Fox News (and the entire News Corp.), Newsmax, One America News Network, the Sinclair network of radio and TV stations and newspapers, iHeart Media (formerly Clear Channel), the Bott Radio Network (Christian radio), Elon Musk’s X, the huge podcasts like Joe Rogan’s, and much more—sets the news agenda in this country. And they fed their audiences a diet of slanted and distorted information that made it possible for Trump to win. Let me say that again, in case it got lost: Today, the right-wing media sets the news agenda in this country. Not The New York Times. Not The Washington Post (which bent over backwards to exert no influence when Jeff Bezos pulled the paper’s Harris endorsement). Not CBS, NBC, and ABC. The agenda is set by all the outlets I listed in the above paragraph. Even the mighty New York Times follows in its wake, aping the tone they set disturbingly often. If you read me regularly, you know that I’ve written this before, but I’m going to keep writing it until people—specifically, rich liberals, who are the only people in the world who have the power to do something about this state of affairs—take some action.
[...]
This is the year in which it became obvious that the right-wing media has more power than the mainstream media. It’s not just that it’s bigger. It’s that it speaks with one voice, and that voice says Democrats and liberals are treasonous elitists who hate you, and Republicans and conservatives love God and country and are your last line of defense against your son coming home from school your daughter. And that is why Donald Trump won. Indeed, the right-wing media is why he exists in our political lives in the first place. Don’t believe me? Try this thought experiment. Imagine Trump coming down that escalator in 2015 with no right-wing media; no Fox News; an agenda still set, and mores still established, by staid old CBS News, the House of Murrow, and The New York Times.
That atmosphere would have denied an outrageous figure like Trump the oxygen he needed to survive and flourish. He just would not have been taken seriously at all. In that world, ruled by a traditional mainstream media, Trump would have been seen by Republicans as a liability, and they would have done what they failed to do in real life—banded together to marginalize him. But the existence of Fox changed everything. Fox hosted the early debates, which Trump won not with intelligence, but outrageousness. He tapped into the grievance culture Fox had nursed among conservatives for years. He had (most of the time) Rupert Murdoch’s personal blessing. In 2015-16, Fox made Trump possible. [...]
The fake story about Haitian residents of Springfield, Ohio eating cats and dogs, for example, started with a Facebook post citing second- and third-hand sources, Gertz told me; it then “circulated on X and was picked up by all the major right-wing influencers.” Only then did Vance, a very online dude, notice it and decide to run with it. And then Trump said it himself at the debate. But it started in the right-wing media. Likewise with the post-debate ABC “whistleblower” claims, which Gertz wrote about at the time. This was the story that ABC, which hosted the only presidential debate this election, fed Team Harris the questions in advance. This started, Gertz wrote, as a “wildly flimsy internet rumor launched by a random pro-Trump X poster.” Soon enough, the right-wing media was all over it.
Maybe that one didn’t make a huge difference (although who knows?), but this one, I believe, absolutely did: the idea that Harris and Joe Biden swiped emergency aid away from the victims of Hurricane Helene (in mostly Southern, red states) and gave it all to undocumented migrants. It did not start with Trump or his campaign or Vance or the Republican National Committee or Lindsey Graham. It started on Fox. Only then did the others pick it up. And it was key, since this was a moment when Harris’s momentum in the polling averages began to flag.
[...]
To much of America, by the way, this is not understood as one side’s view of things. It’s simply “the news.” This is what people—white people, chiefly—watch in about two-thirds of the country. I trust that you’ve seen in your travels, as I have in mine, that in red or even some purple parts of the country, when you walk into a hotel lobby or a hospital waiting room or even a bar, where the TVs ought to be offering us some peace and just showing ESPN, at least one television is tuned to Fox. That’s reach, and that’s power. And then people get in their cars to drive home and listen to an iHeart, right-wing talk radio station. And then they get home and watch their local news and it’s owned by Sinclair, and it, too, has a clear right-wing slant. And then they pick up their local paper, if it still exists, and the oped page features Cal Thomas and Ben Shapiro. Liberals, rich and otherwise, live in a bubble where they never see this stuff. I would beg them to see it. Watch some Fox. Listen to some Christian radio. Experience the news that millions of Americans are getting on a daily basis. You’ll pretty quickly come to understand what I’m saying here.
[...] The reason? The right-wing media. And it’s only growing and growing. And I haven’t even gotten to social media and Tik Tok and the other platforms from which far more people are getting their news these days. The right is way ahead on those fronts too. Liberals must wake up and understand this and do something about it before it’s too late, which it almost is.
Michael Tomasky of TNR explains it perfectly: Donald Trump won due to the right-wing media apparatus feeding lies to the voters.
#Donald Trump#Conservative Media Apparatus#2024 Presidential Election#2024 Elections#Broadcast News Media#Hurricane Helene#Hurricane Helene Conspiracies#Springfield Cat Eating Hoax
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WIP Weekend
It's been a few months since I've done one of these. With the couple spicy events I was participating in concluding, time to come back to WIPs that have been giving me some trouble. Would love a distraction right now, so let's go! Updates
So about that sixth and final chapter of Soaring Symphony...yeah I haven't touched it in a hot minute whoops. I have a general idea of how I want it to go but haven't been able to motivate myself to do it. Hoping to finally get over the hump and start writing it again this weekend
Juggling two different fics set in the Running with the Devil role reversal track star!Eddie and metalhead!Steve universe: -The first is a 4+1 showing how Eddie rose in popularity over time, from the summer before high school to another party his senior year (and is kind of turning into a study on his friendship with Tommy and Carol, having fun with little-annie figuring out where everyone's heads are at during this timeline). -The second picks up right where the first one left off, with Eddie at his wit's end knocking on Steve's door after failing to outrun his gay thoughts.
Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I'll send you 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from that WIP!
🐲 Witch and Dragon Steddie Chapter 6
🏃Role reversal 4+1 aka track star eddie character study
👟Role reversal fic "Can We Talk"
Enjoy a snippet from "Can We Talk" below:
“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie asked, unsure of what exactly he was doing on Steve's doorstep. With a nod, Steve let him in. Driving over, Eddie had half-convinced himself the person opening the door would be the towering mocking figure from his dreams. But the Steve who answered his knocks wasn’t wearing his boots; he stared sleepily at Eddie without the need to look down. Stripped of his usual layered outfit and accessories, he looked…vulnerable. Softer maybe, younger too. “I don’t usually deal at home, but I don’t need any neighbors sticking their fucking nose in my business and calling the cops this time of night,” he said, running a hand through his mussed-up hair. Eddie fought the urge to push down the cowlicks as Steve continued to mutter about rude neighbors.
“I’m…not here 'cause of weed.” His nerves finally gave out and he glanced downwards. That was a mistake, because his eyes landed on Steve’s completely bare hands. Oh G-d, he had tan lines on his fingers. Lines that had Eddie swooning like some heroine in those paperback romances Carol was always reading. He needed to stop staring it had been too long, Steve would notice. Maybe if he’d gotten something remotely close to a good night’s sleep anytime in the past month, Eddie might have stopped himself. But as he stared at those fingers, he felt the last threads of his self-control fray and finally snap. He grabbed onto Steve’s wrist and held on for dear life. “Woah, uh Munson, you okay there?” Steve didn’t pull away. “I—just…” He wasn’t letting go. Why wasn’t he letting go? “Eddie?” Steve knelt down, staring up at Eddie with sincere concern. Not a sneer anywhere to be found. Oh G-d, he looked— “Don’t punch me, please.” Eddie whispered. Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed Steve’s face and smashed their lips together. The taste of cigarettes and mint flooded his mouth. And for one blissful moment, his mind went completely silent.
No pressure tagging a few people to play too! (And if you see this and didn't get tagged by all means feel free to play too, happy to tag folks in the future :D) @little-annie @runninriot @augustjustice @solarmorrigan @dreamwatch @hairstevington @vthx
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfic#tinawrites#wip weekend#writing game#witch and dragon steddie#role reversal steddie#running with the devil
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Finished Fic: Smoke
It's finally done! My fic for this year's @wipbigbang is one of my longest-running WIPs and also one of my personal favorites. My apologies and thanks to anyone still waiting to find out what happens to Equalist!Asami and her unexpected lover - I hope the ending is both satisfying and believable.
Story Title: Smoke
Fandom: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Summary: When General Iroh is captured during the Battle of Yue Bay, it's up to Asami to extract information from him that will win the Equalist revolution. By any means necessary.
Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, major character death, suicide attempt, major character injury
Characters: Iroh II, Asami Sato, Hiroshi Sato, Amon | Noatak, Amon's Lieutenant, Tarrlok, Mako, Lin Beifong, Zuko, Izumi, Original Equalist Characters
Pairing: Iroh II/Asami Sato, other background pairings (some canon, some not)
When I Started: February! February 2021, that is. Eek.
How I Lost My Shit: Most people who know my writing know I'm a die-hard panster, so while I had a loose idea of how this fic would go from the beginning I of course didn't write that. This was my first time writing a real Enemies to Lovers (like literally they try to kill each other a lot) and I found that as a consequence of that I needed to make changes to the story along the way in order to fit the genre. A big decision was to slow down the action to make the romance believable, and another was to flesh out more of the Equalists and their operation in order to avoid a "good guy good and smart, bad guy bad and dumb" dynamic which wouldn't support the kind of story I wanted to tell. All this in turn led to a time skip and whole second half to the fic that I hadn't anticipated followed by a few long breaks myself while I tried to figure out where the story needed to go from there and who with. Mostly because the main characters both wound up killing people I hadn't planned for and so there was a whole legal thing I had to puzzle through that eventually ruled out the original ending I'd had in mind. Nobody listens to me, you know? And I now know an awful lot about immunity and extradition.
How I Finished My Shit: @chocolate-cringymuffin, an existing reader of this fic, incredible artist, and dear fandom friend, agreed to be my artist for the WIP Big Bang. I could NOT let them down. There's really nothing more motivating than fan art from someone who cares about your story. I might not have finished this fic without their enthusiasm. I certainly wouldn't have finished it today.
ALSO CHECK OUT THEIR BOMB-ASS ART!!!! HOLYYYYY CRAP!!! It's so beautiful I'm crying. They're so happy. I also love the choice of scene, which comes at a part of the fic where I think both of them really commit to letting the past be the past and their new life together.
A/N: Thank you so much to the mods of @wipbigbang for putting on this event again! It's a great forcing function. I also want to give a shout out to @alishatheninth who, while not a beta reader, gave me a lot of feedback that I needed to hear about what was working and what wasn't early in the fic and in general has been an invaluable critic and cheerleader on this grand adventure. Alisha, I'm lucky to know you and I'm sorry I killed your favorite LOK character in a truly horrible way. Mostly.
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no wip from me today bc I got distracted and spent all afternoon looking up MLB umpire rules because I had an idea for a Umpire!Buck, Pitcher!Eddie fic and now my head hurts 😵💫
#okay I might still post something for the NFL au#because I'm having fun#but do not ask me to write a MLB au fic#like it would be hot with all that tension#having them stare each other down in between plays#but writing it would mean that I would have to figure out all the rules and the terminology and also the *ethics* of them hooking up#and that's too much for me#but it would be hot#why do I keep coming up with sports AUs???#my post
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Sorry if this is overstepping or anything but I saw your question in the tags of a post(the one about white people and reblogging poc posts) and I wanted to give my 2 cents ok it if that's ok(sorry again if it's rude)
So while it is appreciated that you do agree with OP and are adding something to the conversation, most times serious posts about racism are meant to serve as a beacon for poc, to bring attention to issues that were facing or that white people may be causing. By adding a white voice in there, even if it's agreeing it does take away some focus from the poc perspective on the issue in favor of a white person's perspective. It's unfortunate, and sometimes you can bring up a good point or raise awareness, but usually it's a good idea to do so on a separate post, or a post designated for both poc and white perspectives rather than a post made for poc experiences.
Sorry a final time, I hope this made sense? Either way ur question is valid and I hope this was at least kinda helpful!
This makes sense, and I really appreciate your taking the time to explain your perspective. Please don’t apologize for engaging in a productive discussion with me, I’m really just surprised that anyone read the tags at all 😂
I guess my question really should have been more focused on whether or not this still holds true if the commentary is in the tags of the post, because I always perceive the tags of a post as separate to the post itself. Like I treat tags like I might treat annotating a text - I’m drawing connections or notating where my personal experiences line up with what’s in the post. It’s almost like I’m talking to myself, and people can read them if they want but they also aren’t meant to be for anyone as much as they are meant for me to kind of process what I was reading and sometimes to signal to the OP that I was listening. And I put that in the tags specifically so that it doesn’t have to travel with the post if it ever gets reblogged from me.
But it occurred to me while reading the original post that I might be treating tags very differently than other people, and I wasn’t sure how that matched up with the post. And I don’t know how much of that is just my Autism manifesting in a way where I have misinterpreted the way this tool is meant to be used, or how much of this is my AuDHD having to process all of my thoughts to other people in order for me to understand them, or how much of this is just internalized white supremacy culture making me think I’m entitled to a part of the discussion.
TLDR; Do other people consider tags to be a part of the conversation? Or do other people consider tags to be independent of the conversation unless otherwise stated (like with ‘prev tags’ descriptors)? Or is there some other third thing?
#the original asker is under no obligation to respond obviously#my brain is just struggling to understand how I’m meant to use the tags#so I guess the safe thing would be to assume they’re meant to be a part of the conversation and act accordingly?#which does mean I have to figure out some kind of accommodation for how i use them now?#because typing them and then deleting them means that if I go back to the post later I will have lost all of my previous thoughts#so I need a way to save my thoughts that is unobtrusive and doesn’t require me to leave the app#making a new post doesn’t really work for me either because it’s often referring to a specific idea in the post#and not referencing that feels like removing important context from my discussion???#and I am realizing why I like writing essays more than whatever is happening right now#there are very unclear and arbitrary rules about how the tools of this website are meant to function#which I feel like contradict the way I would like to use these tools#and the way I interpret the use of these tools#I feel like I am committing a grave social faux pas that I didn’t know existed 🙃
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I was on a plane this weekend, and I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me about an upcoming writer’s strike. “Do you really think you’re mistreated?” she asked me.
That’s not the issue at stake here. Let me tell you a little something about “minirooms.”
Minirooms are a way of television writing that is becoming more common. Basically, the studio will hire a small group of writers, 3-6 or so, and employ them for just a few weeks. In those few weeks (six weeks seem to be common), they have to hurriedly figure out as much about the show as they can -- characters, plots, outlines for episodes. Then at the end of the six weeks, all the writers are fired except for the showrunner, who has to write the entire series themselves based on the outlines.
This is not a widespread practice, but it has become more common over the past couple of years. Studios like it because instead of paying for a full room for the full length of the show, they just pay a handful of writers for a fraction of the show. It’s not a huge problem now, but the WGA only gets the chance to make rules every three years -- if we let this go for another three years and it becomes the norm? That would be DEVASTATING for the tv writing profession.
Do I feel like I’m mistreated? No. I LOVE my job! But in a world of minirooms, there is no place for someone like me -- a mid-level writer who makes a decent living working on someone else’s show (I’d like to be a showrunner someday, but for now I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and my husband and I are trying to start a family so I like not being support rather than the leader for now). In a miniroom, there are only two levels -- the handful of glorified idea people who are already scrambling to find their next show because you can’t make a decent living off of one six-week job (and since there are fewer people per room, there are fewer jobs overall, even at the six-week amount), and the overworked, stressed as fuck showrunner who is going to have to write the entire thing themselves. Besides being bad for me making a living, I also just think it’s plain bad for television as an art form -- what I like about TV is how adaptable it is, how a whole group of people come together to tell a story better than what any of them could do on their own. Plus the showrunner can’t do their best work under all of that pressure, episode after episode, back to back. Minirooms just...fucking suck.
The WGA is proposing two things to fix this -- a rule that writers have to be employed for the entire show, and a rule tying the number of writers in the room to the number of episodes you have per season. I don’t think it’s unreasonable. It’s the way shows have run since the advent of television. It’s only in the last couple of years that this has become a new thing. It’s exploitative. It squeezes out everyone except showrunners and people who have the financial means to work only a few months a year. It makes television worse. And that is the issue in this strike that means everything to me, and that is why I voted yes on the strike authorization vote.
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Some writing advice
that I like to use when I write. None of this is meant to be taken as hard and fast rules, they’re just things I like to do/keep in mind when I’m writing and I thought maybe other people would enjoy! <3
Never say what you mean
This is an offshoot of the very common “show don’t tell” advice, which I think can be confusing in application and unhelpful for scenes where telling is actually the right move. Instead, I keep the advice to never say exactly what I mean in stories.
By using a combination of showing and telling to hint at what you really mean, you force your reader to think and figure it out on their own, which makes for a more satisfying reading experience.
You might show a character getting angry and defensive in response to genuine care and concern. You could tell the audience that the character doesn’t see/talk to their parents often. But never outright give the real meaning that the character feels unlovable because of their strained relationship with their parents and as a result they don’t know how to react to being cared for.
Your readers are smart, you don’t need to spoon feed them.
Be sparse with the important things
You know how in a lot of movies there’s that tense scene where a character is hiding from something/someone and you can only just see this person/thing chasing them through a crack in the door? You get a very small glimpse of whatever’s after the character, sometimes only shadows being visible.
Do that in your writing. Obscure the important things in scenes by overdescribing the unimportant and underdescribing the important.
You might describe the smell of a space, the type of wood the floor is made of, the sound of work boots moving slowly across the room, a flashlight in the character’s hand. And there’s a dead body, laying in a pool of blood in the far corner of the room, red soaking into the rug. Then move on, what kind of rug is it? What is the color, patterns, and type of fabric of the rug?
Don’t linger on the details of the body, give your reader’s imagination some room to work while they digest the mundane you give them.
Dialogue is there to tell your story too
There’s a lot of advice out there about how to make dialogue more realistic, which is absolutely great: read aloud to yourself, put breaks where you feel yourself take a breath, reword if you’re stuttering over your written dialogue. But sometimes, in trying to make dialogue sound more realistic, a little bit of its function is lost.
Dialogue is more than just what your characters say, dialogue should serve a purpose. It’s a part of storytelling, and it can even be a bridging part of your narration.
If you have a scene with a lot of internal conflict that is very narration-heavy, breaking it up with some spoken dialogue can be a way to give some variety to those paragraphs without moving onto a new idea yet; people talk to themselves out loud all of the time.
Dialogue is also about what your characters don’t say. This can mean the character literally doesn’t say anything, they give half-truths, give an expected answer rather than the truth (“I’m fine”), omit important information, or outright lie.
Play with syntax and sentence structure
You’ve heard this advice before probably. Short, choppy sentences and a little onomatopoeia work great for fast-paced action scenes, and longer sentences with more description help slow your pacing back down.
That’s solid advice, but what else can you play with? Syntax and sentence structure are more than just the length of a sentence.
Think about things like: repetition of words or ideas, sentence fragments, stream of consciousness writing, breaking syntax conventions, and the like. Done well, breaking some of those rules we were taught about language can be a more compelling way to deliver an emotion, theme, or idea that words just can’t convey.
Would love to hear any other tips and tricks other people like to use, so feel free to share!!!
#tips and tricks#writing#writing advice#writing tips#writing help#writers#writers block#writers on tumblr#writeblr#writing community
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Sports AU. Clint & Marc where once in the same team but one of them moved away & they decided to break up. A secret relationship is hard but a secret long distance relationship is even harder. So they break up. All good. No bad blood. but still a lot of feelings. So when they are in the same town for...what ever reason they totally hook up. & some Fan or what ever saw them togheter walking into the hotel...
#i haven't figured it out yet...#it's just walking around in my head#i also have no idea about the sport...#it could be football because i played football in a club & i know the rules & stuff...#it would not be about the sport at all...because i would have no idea how to describe it#& with football i mean soccer...i don't use this word#anyway...it would be so bitter sweet...#that belongs now in the categorie ideas i have but will never write#moonhawk#clint barton/marc spector#purpleidea...
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𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇
synopsis: wriothesley finds out you have a crush on someone and somehow manages to guess it’s on literally everyone but himself
characters: wriothesley x gn!reader
wc: 1.4k
warnings: fluff, a tiny pinch of angst and insecurity, my poor attempt at humor, slight miscommunication, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, swearing, first time writing for wriothesley so he might be ooc
notes: i almost made this angst to fluff but then decided i need to stop adding angst into literally everything i write (even though there’s like a tiny pinch of angst in here too 🙄). anyway, wriothesley is a lot harder to write than i thought he would be so i apologize if he seems ooc here
“Heard you gotta crush on someone,” Wriothesley teases as he walks into his office where you sit on one of his couches. You don’t even hear him walk in, too engaged in the book you were reading to pass time until you had to go through hundreds of inmate records to find something Neuvillette had requested.
His declaration is so sudden it almost makes you spit out the tea you had stolen from him.
Your eyes go wide as you stare at where he moves to lean against the front of his desk, arms crossed and waiting for an answer with that stupid smirk of his, “Hey now, that tea is expensive, so don’t go wasting it, okay?”
“Who told you about that?” you press for answers, a hint of anger in your voice as you ignore his previous statement about the tea. He had plenty to spare anyway.
Wriothesley’s smirk widens a bit, “So it is true.”
Damn him.
You don’t even bother trying to make an excuse, knowing your best friend all too well. He’d pick apart your words like weeds in a garden, finding meaning in them that you hadn’t even intended.
“And what if it is true?” you cross your arms defensively, glaring at him from across the room.
“At least tell me who it is,” he says as he rests his palms on the wooden desk behind him. When you don’t give in to his pleading, he playfully scoffs, “Oh c’mon, I’m your best friend! It’s kinda an obligation for you to tell me these things.”
You turn away, fixating your gaze on a nearby wall adorned with some weird painting he had hung awhile back, “Oh yeah? Since when? Last I checked there aren’t any rule books for being friends with someone. I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”
“It’s Neuvillette, isn’t it?” he smiles knowingly. Perhaps that was why you were always the one receiving tasks from the Chief Justice instead of him — a guess at best, but enough evidence to convince him Neuvillette was the one.
No, you idiot. It’s you.
You snap your head back toward him, “What? No! I don’t like Neuvillette…not like that, at least. He’s nice and all, but I don’t think I’d be able to date the guy.”
“Damn, I really thought I had that one,” Wriothesley mumbles in defeat, pushing himself off the desk and instead moving to walk around the room as he thinks. It scares you. The fact that he’s so particular with facts and little details that it’s only a matter of time before he collects all the pieces to the puzzle and figures out he’s the one you like. What would he say when that happens? “Too nice, huh? So you like someone a little colder, then.”
Damn it, he got you again!
You don’t answer him.
“Not even going to try to deny it?”
“No,” you grumble to yourself, slumping further into the couch, “you’re only going to dig further anyway.”
He gives a satisfied hum, “Right, so it’s Clorinde then. I mean c’mon, we don’t get a lot of visitors, so it has to be her. She fits the description too.”
You exhaustedly sigh and swipe a hand over your face dramatically, done with his antics, “It’s not her either. And there is no ‘description.’”
He perks up in a way that makes you way too uncomfortable, “Navia?”
“No, I’ve never even met her aside from like one time two years ago,” you refute, sliding further down on the couch to fully lie down and shut your eyes, “I don’t get why you’re so excited over this.”
Wriothesley thinks for a moment before squinting his eyes, “Don’t tell me you have a crush on a prisoner?”
You teasingly peek an eye open while leaning back to look at him, “And if I did?”
“You better not,” he warns, pointing a stern finger at you like you were a prisoner and not his coworker.
You laugh to yourself at his sudden change of mood, “Relax, I was only joking!”
“Not funny,” he says unamused, prepared to pull out the prison’s rule book and slap it over your head if you did, “I’m really runnin��� out of people here.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, “thousands of people live in Fontaine. You’ll figure it out eventually.”
You really hope he doesn’t.
The following ten minutes consist of Wriothesley irritatingly pacing around the room and mumbling all sorts of names to himself. Some of which you recognized, others you had never even heard of before. And, despite all of your countless no’s to his guesses, he never gives up. Nor does he realize the answer is right in front of him.
“Just give it up already,” you finally interrupt as he stops in front of you.
A heavy sigh falls from Wriothesley’s lips as he collapses onto the couch, narrowly missing where your legs were outstretched. Defeatedly, he lays his head against the back of the sofa, shutting his eyes as he thinks a little harder. “Oh my god,” he says suddenly, head shooting up to look at you, “…don’t tell me.”
No way. Did he figure it out?
Your breath captures in your throat as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own, searching for some sort of truth. He knows. Your best friend knows that you have feelings for him — and not just the platonic kind.
His brows furrow and his face morphs into one of disgust. It makes your heart drop; the way he’s looking at you.
He doesn’t feel the same way.
“I can’t believe it,” he clicks his tongue in disgust, crossing his arms and turning his attention away from you, “you like Furina.”
Your jaw drops to the floor and suddenly you don’t feel bad anymore, “I actually can’t believe you just said that. Archons, I think you need to visit Sigewinne. I mean, seriously! Furina? Of all people!”
He grins and shrugs carelessly, “I don’t know? She was the last person I could think of.”
“Something is seriously wrong with you.”
“Clearly not so wrong that I couldn’t figure out that the person you actually like is me.”
“Oh please, I don’t even—wait, what? You knew?!”
A boisterous laugh erupts suddenly as you stare at him with wide eyes. You sit up on the couch quickly, slapping his shoulder as he continues to laugh, “Sorry, sorry!”
You don’t find it amusing, “I—when did you figure it out?”
His laugh eventually subsides into a drawn out sigh and his blue eyes soften a bit as they gaze into your own, “I’m not an idiot, you know? I wouldn’t be running this place if I was.”
“Right,” you mumble awkwardly, averting your gaze from his, “so, um, were you just doing all that to lighten the mood so you could let me down easily or…?”
“Or…what?” Wriothesley mocks you, a playful smirk pulling at his lips.
You roll your eyes with a scoff, “don’t make me say it.”
He spares you, luckily. It’s unlike him, but he doesn’t care to joke with you any longer when the subject is so serious, “Yes, I feel the same way. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No, I totally wanted to hear you say you hate me and want me dead,” you say sarcastically, trying to fight a smile.
“I’m being serious, I really do like you,” Wriothesley presses, ignoring the way you’re becoming awkward from the nervousness floating in the air.
You finally exhale the breath you had been guarding in your chest, relieved that this didn’t go as horribly as you once thought it would.
The alarm sounding for dinner goes off after and you both stand from your places on the couch, “So what do we do now that that’s out of the way?”
Wriothesley falls into step next to you, holding the doors to his office open to let you out first, “We have our first date in the cafeteria, of course.”
Your face drops and you stop in your tracks to glare at him, “That better be a joke.”
He laughs it off quickly, not thinking you’d take it so seriously. Eagerly, he grabs your hand tightly in his as he pulls you to the exit of the Fortress, “Relax, I’m just teasing you! You deserve only the best, after all.”
“You are so annoying.”
“Only for you, sweetheart.”
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact fanfiction#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#wriothesley x y/n
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 2 - Adjustments
Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.
Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
“She was lying.”
Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day.
“About how she got to the institute.”
“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.”
“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance.
“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...”
Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.”
Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.”
Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?”
Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?”
Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.”
Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.”
You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London.
Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting.
You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you.
You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means.
You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more.
Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with.
Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table.
They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules.
You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day.
You wonder if they ever get a break.
Maybe this is a break for them.
You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority.
Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy.
You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you.
Except you don’t know your pack.
What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.
Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first.
You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price.
Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after.
Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you.
You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one.
You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs.
As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall.
You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle.
A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers.
You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now.
You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C.
Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too.
You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back.
Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?”
“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.”
“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit.
You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.”
“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully.
Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most.
Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.”
“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing.
“You hungry?” Gaz asks.
You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting.
Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh.
Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well.
The thought makes something flutter in your chest.
You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?”
“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.”
“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.”
You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you.
Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his.
He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower.
It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either.
“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight.
“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table.
You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone.
You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling.
“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.”
His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own.
You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family.
You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away.
She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand.
American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one.
“Captain John Price.” He says.
You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves.
“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other.
You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep.
Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta.
“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.”
She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA.
“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.”
“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond.
Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.”
“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says.
You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.”
Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.”
“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.”
“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.”
“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.”
“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.”
You nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.”
Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things.
“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.”
Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond.
“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks.
“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says.
“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.”
You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second.
“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.”
A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want.
“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction.
“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.”
You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.”
Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.”
The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole.
“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?”
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod.
“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.”
You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face.
“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?”
You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base.
“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.”
Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega.
This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world.
You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age.
Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas.
Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up.
It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check.
Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack.
You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings.
Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world.
Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you.
Or maybe they would have been worse.
“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.”
“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?”
You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.”
“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.”
Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?”
“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.”
“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask.
“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?”
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod.
She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?”
“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer.
“And how did that go?”
You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.”
“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?”
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...
You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it.
He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares.
“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer.
She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns?
Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center.
“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways.
You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center.
“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks.
“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night.
“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit.
You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.”
“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.”
You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.”
His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning?
You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being.
The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel.
You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read.
You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space?
“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.”
He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him.
Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit?
Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence?
Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response?
You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself.
Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive.
“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.”
The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble.
Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...
You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.
Was he...laughing at you?
Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives.
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside.
“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over.
“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.”
He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.”
You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought.
What to do about Ghost.
He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that.
You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk.
An unneeded disruption to their lives.
You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you.
You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate.
“Can you get a book for me?”
You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you.
“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.
“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile.
“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet.
“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?”
You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.”
Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!”
“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself.
“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?”
“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.”
“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer.
“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.”
Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says.
You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game.
Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap.
“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him.
He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?”
“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.”
You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch.
He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder.
You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again.
“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.”
You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state.
“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up.
You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made.
You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.”
“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.”
He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face.
NEXT ->
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#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#poly 141#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#a/b/o#alpha beta omega dynamics
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Ateez Reaction ღ Asking them to teach you how to fuck [M]
ღ Ateez all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut reaction (best friend!Ateez x inexperienced reader), (implied) friends to fwb/friends to lovers in one part ღ warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption
Author’s note: This is definitely not what I had planned to write today but oh well :’) I hope you guys enjoy~
Edit: This is labelled as having a fem-bodied!reader, but Yeosang's, San's, Mingi's and Jongho's parts also work with a gn!reader (I changed the wording slightly for two of those parts to make them gn, cause the original versions weren't very far away from that) - Yunho's part is technically gn too, but i think one line of it makes no sense if reader is imagined to be male bodied!
Hongjoong:
when one day you somewhat shyly ask him if he would teach you how to please a guy he’s definitely surprised
but it’s also not like he sees a problem with friends hooking up? i mean - y’all know each other well and trust each other, so having sex shouldn’t be an issue
teaches you everything you wanted to know and then some more, until suddenly you can barely even remember that other guy who made you feel like you needed to practice so much anymore
he’ll be gentle with you, seeing how you don’t have much experience yet, and somehow he’ll end up pleasuring you first to help you relax
only when you’re about to cum on his fingers does he stop for a second to consider whether it’s really okay to go this far with you
but you’re enjoying yourself, and now you’re whining for him to keep going, so that’s what he does
makes you cum and then lets you rest for a bit, before he starts guiding your hands down his body
praises you for everything you do and gently nudges you in the right direction, until you have him cumming into your fist - but he won’t stop there
there’s just something insanely hot to him about having full control over what you do to him as he gives you instructions, and this is definitely also awakening some kind of corruption kink deep inside him
eventually you end up on top of him as he guides you down his cock and into a steady rhythm, having you ride him
and of course this becomes a regular thing between the two of you, both keeping up the pretense that you’re still just “practicing”, when really there’s a carnal need growing inside both of you that makes you always come back to each other for more
Seonghwa:
the first time you bring it up to him that you’ve been wondering if he could help you practice having sex he feels conflicted to say the least
of course he wants to help you!! but this is about having sex with one of his best friends, and he doesn’t know if he wants to cross that line with you
but at the same time it’s also apparent that your question is affecting him when you can see his ears turn red, and eventually he has to get out of there for a second to get himself a glass of water sakdfjlks
“So is that a yes?” you ask him when he comes back, and he almost spits the water back out aksdljfkjsd
“I-I’ll have to think about it, Y/N…” he somehow manages to stutter, before he forcibly changes topic
he needs a few days to calm down about this, but once some time has passed he figures it’s probably not a big issue if he helped you out a bit, right?
you agree on a few rules like no kissing, no actual intercourse, but he’s willing to let you touch him otherwise
and so you decide to start slow, with a simple handjob, and he actually finds himself enjoying the way he can tell you what to do, gently push you in the right direction, plus the sight of having your hands wrapped around his cock just does something very sinful to him - so it’s no surprise that you don’t have any trouble making him cum
but now he feels the need to pay you back, and so you let him finger you, and his skillful touches throw you over the edge in no time
you do this a few times, until eventually you find yourselves growing more needy, and you end up sucking him off while he eats you out, quietly turning it into a game of who can make the other cum faster in your mind
needless to say, now that you started casually hooking up you won’t be stopping anytime soon
Yunho:
he is SOSO flustered when you first ask him about whether he could teach you a bit about sex the first time and immediately says no aksjdklfsk
“Y/N, we’re just friends… shouldn’t you do that with an actual boyfriend?”
but you insist, admitting that you feel embarrassed about how inexperienced you are, and of course this guy reassures you that you’re fine the way you are, and once the right guy comes along he will surely be understanding with you
and as much as you want to believe his words, your insecurities prevail, until eventually you find an agreement that you can at least come ask him about stuff if you feel unsure about something so he could give you a verbal explanation
and you take him up on that offer pretty soon, simply because you’re curious kasjflkasdj
so when one day you ask him out of the blue whether guys prefer getting handjobs or blowjobs he’s a blushing mess first of all
“W-well, it depends on the guy…?” - so you ask him what he prefers and now he’s visibly uncomfortable
but he figures you’re just curious, so he tells you about how both is nice, it really depends on his mood, but he probably prefers a simple handjob most of the time
he loosens up a bit eventually, and as you continue talking about the topic and you ask him all kinds of questions, neither of you can deny that it’s affecting you
except nothing really happens afterwards, because you know he wouldn’t want to overstep that boundary
it’s only until a little later, when you’re both drunk at a party and he suddenly pulls you aside to tell you that he hasn’t been able to think about anything but what it would be like to have sex with you
and well, you pressing your body up against his does nothing to deflate that situation, and so you disappear in the nearest room where it’s just the two of you, and in no time clothes are flying off and your hands are all over each other
but despite the desperation that the both of you are feeling, he’s still careful with you, taking the lead as you spend the rest of the night fucking in that room
Yeosang:
he has no idea how to react when you ask him to teach you how to fuck, so it’s just awkward silence for a few moments
until he offers to treat you to a few hours with a sex worker instead ksajdflkjs
and well, that’s not exactly what you had in mind, because the point of you asking him was that he’s someone who’s known you for a long time and who knows you well
“Ahhh, I see… then sorry that I can’t be who you want me to be, but no.” (why does he have to say it so dramatically fksdjkfas)
you’re of course a bit disappointed, but it’s not like you don’t understand him - not everyone would want to cross that line with a friend - so you leave it at that for now
until one evening you’re together at your place, and you can tell something’s off about him - he seems fidgety and like he’s anxious about something, so eventually you decide to ask what’s up
and he doesn’t really want to give you an answer at first, but eventually he manages to force out an explanation
“Just… what you said to me a few days ago… I thought about it again… and maybe we can try it after all?” - you two talk a lot so it takes you a while to understand what he’s hinting at, but once you do, you’re immediately by his side
you reach for his hand as you’re sitting side by side, and somehow both your nerves are making it hard to do anything
“S-so… how do we start? Do we kiss?” he asks, and you agree that that might be a good idea, and weirdly enough as soon as your lips meet his and you fall into an unhurried pace, both your anxieties seem to be washed away
you get into his lap, and somehow you both just end up following your instincts, only breaking the kiss to tell each other what feels good, and then eventually in order to moan at the way you dry humping him is about to get the both of you off
you’re taking this very slow, but it becomes a regular thing for you to meet up in order to have sex from then on, both exploring and learning about each other’s body as you go
San:
another one who feels very conflicted the first time you bring it up to him
he doesn’t think mere friends should be doing this kind of thing with each other, but at the same time he can’t say he isn’t tempted
he says no at first, but the days after he just can’t stop thinking about you naked, on top of him, underneath him, you name it
until these thoughts start to haunt him in his dreams too, and he knows he can’t possibly be normal around you anymore if he doesn’t do anything about this
so he decides to help you out after all, under the premise that you won’t have any actual intercourse
instead, he teaches you how he likes to be touched with hands only, and eventually he also lets you suck him off
tells you exactly what to do that would drive any guy insane, gives you advice in between moans and at some point he will start rambling, until his high is coming so close that his train of thought just cuts off
and once he sees the state he put you in after cumming in your mouth - your glazed over eyes, his seed dripping down your lips before you lick it all up and swallow - he just can’t help himself anymore
“Shit, Y/N, let me fuck you, please,” he mutters, desperation in his voice
and as soon as you give him the okay this guy will be all over you, being rougher than you’d have expected him to be, fucking you as he’s led only by his instincts and his need to feel the warmth of being inside you
Mingi:
he’s another one who isn’t opposed to having sex with a good friend
actually, he feels a weird sense of relief when you ask him if you could practice with him, because he feels very comfortable with you and so he knows he too will be able to let go quickly
you start slow anyway, because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you - seeing how you don’t have much experience yet - and so he’s even more surprised when you reach for his dick pretty quickly
you ask if what you’re doing is good, and as you’re giving him a few strokes this guy is hard in no time
will put his hand onto yours to guide you into the pace he likes, but very soon he’ll simply leave it up to you, wanting to know exactly what you would do to him if he doesn’t interfere
and soon enough his sanity will start to slip away, and when he starts bucking his hips into your hand the dynamic shifts ever so slightly, because suddenly you don’t seem so inexperienced anymore at all as you dare to tease him about how needy he is
lets you make him cum onto his stomach, before you call it quits for the day, but you’ll be sure to come back for more soon
he’ll let you get him off in all kinds of ways, until eventually you two start experimenting with anything and everything you’re curious about, all under the premise of “practice”
and soon he too will feel the need to return the favour and get you off too, learning all about how your body reacts to his touch, and figuring out together what feels best for you
you’re gonna spend whole weekends at his place just fucking, and in no time you basically know each other’s bodies like the back of your own hand
and it’s more than likely that in the process this guy actually falls in love with you, and even though it’s still a whiiiile until he actually finds the courage to tell you that, he will make damn sure you won’t even think about wandering off to someone else
“You’re mine, Y/N,” - the words will repeatedly slip past his lips as he’s fucking you, and surely enough they do something to you too
Wooyoung:
you two tend to be very touchy to begin with - even though you’re definitely not in love he gives you kisses on the cheeks or your neck all the time, and when you’re having a sleepover you can be sure it will include a good amount of cuddling
so when one day he’s spooning you, focused on drawing random patterns on the skin on your arm, and you tell him that you’ve been thinking whether he would be okay with showing you how to properly please a guy he isn’t put off by the idea at all - though he is a little surprised, both because he was of the impression you had a lot more experience than you do, and because he didn’t think you’d ever consider him the right person to come to with a favour like this (like????? who else would be a better person??????)
and this guy is so gentle and respectful with you - he’ll ask exactly what you want him to show you, what you want him to do, will ask before whatever he does whether you’re okay with it or not,...
you just end up having really sweet sex as you help each other out of your clothes and you both get a little distracted worshipping each other’s body
there will be a lot of giggling as you slowly figure out what the other likes and what not, until you end up flat on your back, with his head between your legs, and suddenly all that light-hearted curiousity turns into a deep passion
he eats you out and makes you cum on his tongue multiple times, eager to please you and to see how many more of those sinful moans and whimpers he can draw out of you
until finally you grab him by the hair and pull him away so he would give you a break to catch your breath and to remind him that he was supposed to teach you how to do this stuff
“You asked me how to please a guy,” he replies. “This is how you please this guy right here.” - at this point he is absolutely pussy drunk, there’s no going back for him
will offer to get you off every single time you have a sleepover from now on (and mysteriously the amount of sleepovers you have is suddenly increasing drastically), but he will also exert some amount of self control beforehand and let you get him off too, before he makes you feel good
Jongho:
the first time you very awkwardly hint at him that you’ve been wondering if he’d be willing to teach you how to fuck he simply laughs
until he realizes you weren’t joking
panics internally as all the times he’s gotten off while thinking of you flash him by and he somehow manages to tell you that you’re just friends and you should really reconsider this!!!
he never actually gives you a proper answer on that day, and neither of you bring it up until like two weeks later
you’re both chilling with your phones in your hands, having made yourselves comfortable on his bed as you often do when you’re at his place, when he suddenly speaks up
“So… do you still want me to… teach you a few things?” he asks, not taking his eyes off his phone, and you can feel the nervousness radiating off of him - but as soon as you say yes that mood instantly gets replaced with confidence
“Then come here.” - he goes slow to figure out what you’re okay with and what not, but when you throw your arms around him once he starts scattering kisses in your neck as he hovers above you, he knows he can’t hold back anymore
gets you off with his hand first, before he guides yours to his cock and shows you exactly how he wants you to return the favour
“Wanna go all the way? Cause I’ve been thinking about this…” he admits, and when you say yes he doesn’t spare you any details
tells you about what he wants to do to you, and lets you decide which of his fantasies you want to recreate, until you end up in all kinds of positions, having him fucking one orgasm after the other out of you, until it becomes clear you’re getting tired and you really can’t take any more
you’re both very awkward after this, to the point you act weird around each other even in front of your other friends, who start wondering whether you had a fight
but as things calm down between the two of you, you meet up again at his place
you decided prior to that that what happened several days ago was a one time thing, and you wouldn’t do it again
or so you thought, because as soon as you find yourselves side by side on his bed again, neither of you can deny that the only thing you’re thinking about is continuing where you had left off last time
#ateez smut#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#hongjoong smut#seonghwa smut#yunho smut#yeosang smut#san smut#mingi smut#wooyoung smut#jongho smut#ateez x reader#ateez drabbles#ateez hard thoughts#smut
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. . . KAWAI, HENTAI, BOOBIESSS!
ME AND YOUR GIRLFRIEND PLAYING DRESS-UP IN HOUSE, I GIVE YOUR GIRLFRIEND CUNNILINGUS IN MY COUCH!
shoko ieiri. it just happened that the girl hated satoru gojo so much that day, so she decided to give his girlfriend— you, a little fun, on her couch.
warning. cunnilingus, cheating, fingering, overstimulated, gxg, squirts, name-calling, pet names.
wc. 3,8k
𝜗𝜚. please don't judge me, it is my first time writing gxg and i'm trying my best to picturing it without overdoing it because i never experienced it. 🥹
in shoko’s cozy apartment, you and shoko were rummaging through her impressive wardrobe, trying to put together the perfect outfit for your date with satoru gojo, your lovely boyfriend. shoko’s playful mood had shifted into one of frustration as the conversation turned to satoru’s recent behavior.
“i just don’t get it,” shoko huffed, sorting through a pile of accessories with a frown. “why does he always have to be so late? It’s like he thinks time is a suggestion, not a rule.” you laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood. “you know how he is. he’s probably just caught up in something.”
shoko’s irritation didn’t fade. “caught up in something or not, it’s still rude. you deserve someone who respects your time.” before you could respond, shoko’s phone buzzed. she glanced at the screen and rolled her eyes, “speak of the devil.”
you peered over her shoulder at the message from satoru, apologizing for being late and asking if he could still meet up. shoko’s face darkened with annoyance, “seriously?” she muttered, her voice laced with irritation, “he’s been late three times in a row now. i’m about ready to give him a piece of my mind.”
you placed a comforting hand on shoko’s shoulder, “he does mean well. maybe something came up unexpectedly. let’s give him the benefit of the doubt.”
shoko sighed, her anger slightly diffused by your support, “i guess. but if this happens again, i’m going to have to set him straight. it’s not just about being punctual; it’s about showing you that he values your time.”
you nodded in agreement, understanding where shoko was coming from. “i appreciate you looking out for me. let’s focus on getting me ready for the date.”
shoko’s demeanor softened as she focused on helping you choose the right outfit. her frustration didn’t fully disappear, but she channeled it into finding the perfect look that would impress satoru and show him that you were worth his time or she might steal you from him.
as you tried on various outfits, shoko offered advice with a mix of seriousness and subtle jabs aimed at satoru. “this outfit is great—perfect for making an impression. let’s just hope satoru shows up on time to see it.”
shoko eyes focusing on your cleavage— seems like she can't stop her eyes from looking at the peak of your breast. with a small blush creeping onto her cheeks, shoko quickly looks away from your chest, pretending to be interested in the clothes hanging in front of her. “umm... i think this one might work,” she says, holding up a dress with a deep v-neck that accentuates your curves nicely.
her gaze flickers back towards your chest, unable to resist another glance despite herself. “it really brings out your... figure,” she murmurs under her breath before quickly clearing her throat and attempting to refocus on the task at hand.
blushing even more intensely now, shoko stammers out an apology while avoiding eye contact. “i-i'm sorry, i didn't mean to stare...” she busies herself with folding the rejected outfits neatly, hoping that by keeping her hands occupied she can distract herself from her wandering eyes.
but even as she tries to regain control of the situation, there's a noticeable shift in her demeanor— one that suggests she might not entirely regret looking at you like that. after all, what harm could come from admiring such beautiful curves?
“um... maybe we should try this one?” she asks tentatively, pulling out another dress that reveals even more of your cleavage than the previous one. “it's okay,” you smile at her kindly. you take off the dress without turning your back on her, now fully showing her your naked breasts. her eyes widen in shock as you suddenly strip down completely, exposing your bare breasts to her gaze. for a moment, she freezes, unsure of how to react.
then, almost against her will, her gaze drops to your nipples, which hardens slightly in the cool air of the room. a soft gasp escapes her lips as she takes in the sight of your pink, erect buds. slowly, shoko raises her eyes back up to meet yours, a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and perhaps even arousal flickering in their depths. she swallows hard, her mouth suddenly feeling dry.
“i... um... wow,” she manages to stammer out, her voice barely above a whisper. “you're so beautiful...” without thinking, she reaches out a trembling hand, hesitating only briefly before gently cupping one of your breasts. as her fingers make contact with your soft flesh, a shiver runs down shoko's spine. she squeezes your breast gently, marveling at its weight and suppleness.
“you feel amazing,” she whispers, her thumb brushing lightly over your nipple. the sensitive bud stiffens further under her touch, sending tingles throughout your body. unable to resist, shoko leans in closer, her warm breath ghosting over your skin. slowly, teasingly, she darts out her tongue and gives your nipple a quick lick.
a moan slips past your lips at the sensation, encouraging shoko to continue her exploration. she kisses along the swell of your breast before taking your nipple into her mouth, sucking and nibbling on the hardened peak. meanwhile, her other hand drifts downwards, tracing the curve of your waist and hip before settling on your ass.
shoko brings her feet to slowly move behind you until your back touching her chest— one hand still not leaving your breast before her other hand joining. she squeeze your breast lightly, fingers flicking your nipples from time to time.
shoko wraps her arms around your torso, pressing her soft body firmly against your back. her ample bosom squishes against your shoulders, making you acutely aware of her every movement. feeling bold, shoko's hands roam freely over your exposed skin, occasionally dipping lower to caress your sides or hips. her fingers continue to tease and pinch your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
murmuring softly against your ear, shoko's hot breath sends shivers down your spine, “you have such a beautiful body... i want to explore every inch of it.” her words are punctuated by gentle bites along your neck and shoulder, each nip causing your heart to race faster.
shoko's hands begin to wander lower, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt to stroke the smooth skin of your thighs. her fingers dance closer to your pussy, teasing the edges of your underwear. “mmm, you're so wet already,” she purrs, her nose nuzzling the side of your neck as she inhales your scent deeply, “i can smell how much you want me.”
with a deft motion, shoko tugs your panties aside, exposing your slick folds to her eager touch. two fingers delve between them, stroking your clit in slow, deliberate circles. “let me make you feel good,” she coos, her voice dripping with desire, “i want to hear you moan my name."
encouraged by your moans, shoko intensifies her movements, rubbing your clit harder and faster. her fingers slip easily through your slick folds, exploring every nook and cranny of your heated pussy. “ohh, you're so tight,” she groans, thrusting two fingers inside you. the stretch sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.
her other hand leaves your breast momentarily to join in the fun, sliding down to fondle your clit directly. the dual stimulation has you writhing against her, desperate for more, “please don't stop,” you beg breathlessly, “i need it.”
you throw your head back to her shoulder. hands gripping tightly on her arms as if your pleasure depends on it. your eyes flickering caused by the pleasure hugging your body. “oh, fuck. .” you moan into the air.
hearing your moans of pleasure, shoko becomes even more insatiable. her fingers pump in and out of you rhythmically, hitting spots that send shocks of delight surging through your entire being. her free hand snakes down to join the first, doubling the pleasure as both thumbs work relentlessly on your swollen clit. the dual assault has you bucking wildly against her, seeking friction where you can get it.
“that's it baby, let go,” she encourages, leaning down to whisper hotly in your ear, “come for me.” driven by your pleas and the intoxicating scent of your arousal, shoko redoubles her efforts. with each thrust of her fingers and rub of her thumbs, she brings you closer to the edge. with your raw moans, shoko's excitement grows exponentially. her fingers work you relentlessly, curling within you to hit that sweet spot deep inside.
“fuck yeah, just like that,” she growls, biting down gently on your earlobe, “let go for me.” the intensity of her touches drives you wild; her firm grasp on your arms is the perfect anchor amidst the storm of sensations coursing through your body.
suddenly, she adds a third finger, stretching you wider as she pumps them in and out rhythmically. simultaneously, she rubs your swollen clit mercilessly. “you're going to cum soon,” she predicts confidently, “and i want to be here when it happens.” the combination of her dirty talk and expert touches proves too much to bear. your inner walls clamp down around her invading fingers as an intense orgasm rips through you.
“yes! yes!” you cry out, shaking uncontrollably in her embrace. “don't stop!” shoko continues pumping her fingers vigorously, drawing out your climax until you collapse limply against her, spent and satisfied.
“that was incredible,” she praises, peppering your neck with soft kisses. “your pussy felt amazing squeezing my fingers like that.” gently withdrawing her hand, shoko brings her glistening digits to her mouth, sucking your juices off with a contented hum, “delicious.”
as your breathing slows, shoko tenderly strokes your flushed cheeks and neck, soothing away the remnants of your orgasmic high. her own arousal is palpable— evident in the way she presses herself against you, seeking friction where there wasn't any before.
“i want you,” she confesses quietly but urgently, “will you let me taste you?”
without waiting for a reply, shoko pushes you to the couch, gently landing your body on the soft material before dropping down onto her knees between your legs. her hands grip your hips firmly as she pulls you towards her awaiting mouth. once you're positioned to her liking, shoko leans in, dragging her tongue up the center of your slit in a long, slow lick. she savors the taste of your arousal, humming in approval at the flavor.
“mmm, even better than i imagined,” she murmurs against your sensitive flesh before diving back in for another lap, this time focusing on your throbbing clit. her tongue swirls around the bud, applying just the right amount of pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerve endings. as she works you over, shoko's hands roam your body, kneading your breasts and tweaking your nipples.
“please let me make you cum again,” she pleads between licks, “i need to feel you lose control for me.” driven by her desperation to please you, shoko redoubles her efforts, alternating between licking and sucking on your clit while plunging two fingers deep inside your still-quivering pussy.
“oh god, you taste so fucking good,” she gasps, her own arousal leaking down her thigh as she loses herself in the act of worshipping your body, “i could do this all day.”
picking up speed, shoko fucks you with her fingers, curling them to hit that magic spot that makes your toes curl and back arch. at the same time, she increases the suction on your clit, sending you hurtling towards another explosive climax. “cum for me, baby,” she urges, her voice strained with lust, “fill my mouth with your juice.”
she doesn't seems willing to stop, still can't get enough of your taste on her tongue and heart. she looks up to you, seeing your fucked-face, eyes drop low and chest moving rigid, trying to catch your breath.
“do you ever squirt?” she ask, giving your clit a kitten lick. you didn't even get a chance to answer when you feel you leg shaking, “fuck!—” sometimes catch you breath as you arch your back and took a fistful of shoko's long brown hair. the action make the girl moan and groan on your clit.
at the sudden tangle of your fingers in her hair, shoko lets out a needy whimper, her own desire spiking at the dominant display. she gazes up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, panting softly as she continues to lap at your oversensitive clit.
“i've never seen you come undone like this,” she breathes, nuzzling her face into your heat, “it's so hot.” emboldened by your reaction, shoko begins to suckle more insistently on your clit, her tongue darting out to flick the hypersensitive bud. the sensation sends jolts of electricity straight to your core, making your already quivering thighs clench.
“squirt for me,” she urges, her voice a husky purr, “drench my face with your cum.” with each thrust of her fingers and lap of her tongue, shoko coaxes more and more moans from your lips until they merge into one long, drawn-out sigh. the sensation builds quickly, making your thighs quiver and your pussy clench tighter around her fingers.
“i think you might be close,” she whispers against your slick folds, “are you gonna give it to me?” feeling your impending orgasm approaching, shoko intensifies her efforts, doubling down on her relentless assault. her tongue darts and flicks mercilessly against your swollen clit, while her fingers pump in and out of your dripping cunt, hitting every sweet spot.
“come on, baby,” she encourages, her voice muffled by your pussy. “let go. show me how much you love this.” with a final, desperate suck, shoko draws you over the edge. a loud moan tears itself from your throat as your entire body convulses in pleasure. “s-so good, mmh-mmm, fucking goo-oh!” your pussy squeezes tight around her fingers, pulsating rhythmically as wave after wave of euphoria washes over you.
caught in the throes of ecstasy, you barely register shoko's triumphant cry as she laps up every last drop of your sweet release. eager to savor every last drop, shoko laps up your juices with gusto, not stopping until your spasms subside. she then slowly rises, standing between your spread legs with a satisfied smirk on her lips.
“that was amazing,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that.” despite the mess, shoko makes no move to clean herself up. instead, she leans down and gives your thigh a gentle kiss, marking you as hers— more likely stealing you from gojo satoru.
“but i'm not done yet,” she teases, sliding her fingers out from within you and bringing them to her lips. “taste so fucking good, can't get enough of you baby,” with a sly grin, shoko brings her glistening fingers to your lips, holding them there expectantly. as you part your mouth to accept the intimate offering, she pushes them past your lips, letting you taste the essence of your own arousal mixed with her saliva.
“don't you agree it tastes divine?“ she purrs, her voice thick with satisfaction. “now open wide for me,” demanding that you taste what she had been enjoying moments ago. the tangy sweetness of your cum coats her fingertips, leaving a salty residue on your tongue.
once you comply, shoko slides her fingers into your mouth, gently probing your tongue with them. the dual stimulation sends a thrill through your body, leaving you weak and pliant beneath her. her other hand ventures downwards, tracing teasing circles along your inner thigh before dipping lower. this time, instead of plunging her fingers inside you, she focuses on your clit, rubbing it gently with the pad of her thumb. “you're so responsive,” she murmurs, watching your reactions closely. “do you want more?”
nodding your head like obedient dog, your eyes watering, “please. . . want more,” you beg her. shoko chuckle, “look at you acting like a little slut,” her lazy eyes never leaver yours. at the same times, her phone ringing and your boyfriend name pop up. gladly she accepted the call before putting her phone aside, purposely letting your boyfriend hear what a slut his girlfriend is and doesn't have any attention to let you know that your boyfriend is listening.
“you ask for it,” shoko sweetly said before pushing your tight upward, “now open your leg wider, baby,” she command and you happily follow. she land your thigh on her shoulder. lean down to spitting on your pussy and a soft moan left your glisten lips. you don't realize how your boyfriend listening on the other side.
a sound of shoko's hand slapping your overstimulated pussy echoes follow by your moan. “oh fuck!” gojo hear your whimpering voice. as soon as you utter those words, shoko's eyes light up with mischief. she grins wickedly, clearly relishing the power she holds over you in this moment.
“look at you, begging like a bitch in heat,” she taunts playfully, her fingers trailing along your slit. “i bet you'd let anyone touch this greedy little cunt, wouldn't you?” shoko punctuates her question with a sharp slap to your sensitive mound, eliciting a yelp from your lips. before you can recover, she pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you nearly in half and exposing your dripping hole completely. her voice dripping with lust, “i'm going to feast on this pretty pussy until you scream.”
as shoko's palm connects with your sensitive flesh, another sharp slap resounds through the room, followed by your high-pitched whine. her eyes light up with sadistic glee at the thought of gojo listening in on their depraved activities. shoko dives in, burying her face between your thighs. her tongue delves deep into your folds, lapping up your arousal with reckless abandon. she sucked hard on your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body.
“oh fuck, fuck— ahh!” gojo hears your muffled cries as shoko devours you whole, “yes, just like that!” the sounds of shoko's slurping and your moans fill the room, creating an erotic symphony that gojo cannot tear himself away from. he listens intently, his cock twitching in anticipation as he imagines shoko's skilled mouth on him next.
shoko pulls back momentarily, her lips shiny with your juices. she looks up at you with a hungry gaze, her eyes dark with lust, “i want to make you cum again.”
“please— fuck, please don't stop,” you begging.
shoko smirks at your desperate pleas, knowing full well the power she wields over you at this moment. she returns to feasting on your pussy with renewed vigor, her tongue darting in and out of your clenching folds. “such a good little slut for me,” she purrs, the vibrations of her words sending tremors through your core, “i'm going to milk this cunt dry.”
with that promise, shoko redoubles her efforts, sucking harder on your throbbing clit while thrusting two fingers knuckle-deep into your slick channel. she curls them just right, stroking that magic spot inside you that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “fuck, yes! right there! faster. . .” gojo hears you scream, your voice hoarse from pleasure. “i-i— don't stop, please!” shoko continues to ravage your pussy with unrelenting intensity, her fingers pumping in and out of you as her tongue working overtime on your clit. she can feel your walls starting to flutter around her digits, signaling your impending orgasm.
“that's it, cum for me,” she growls against your soaked flesh, her breath hot against your sensitive skin. with a final, brutal suck on your clit, shoko sends you careening over the edge. your body convulses, a high-pitched wail escaping your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.
“oh my god, oh fuck— yes, yes. . .” gojo hears your voice rise to a fever pitch, your words barely coherent as your orgasm rips through you. shoko laps up your release greedily, milking you for every last drop. as your climax subsides, shoko slowly withdraws her fingers from your spent channel, bringing them to her lips to clean off the evidence of your pleasure. she savors the taste of your arousal, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips.
“you are even sweeter after i make you cum three times,” she murmurs, her eyes glinting with mischief, “so fucking good.” shoko rises to her feet, towering over you in a dominant pose. she reachdown to help you sit up, her touch gentle but firm. “now, let's get you cleaned up and presentable,” she says, her tone taking on a playful edge, “we can't have you looking like a mess when gojo gets here, now can we?”
with that, shoko grabs a washcloth and begins wiping away the remnants of your passion, her touch both soothing and intimate. she took her phone that lying flat on the floor before pressing the electronic against her ear, smiling as she looks down at you.
“satoru..” she sang happily, “i hope you don't mind me having a little fun with your girlfriend,” her voice dripping with mocking even though soft smile kissing her as she looks at you, “that's what you get for fucking pissing me off.” satoru's angry voice comes through the speaker, causing shoko to giggle softly. she runs a hand through your hair, keeping her eyes locked on yours as she continues the call.
“satoru, darling, don't be so dramatic,” she coos, her tone sugary sweet despite the mischievous glint in her eye. “i was just giving your precious girlfriend a little attention. after all, you've been neglecting her lately,” shoko leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “besides, she seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. maybe you should take some pointers from me on how to satisfy a woman properly.”
satoru growls in response, but shoko merely laughs, unconcerned by his anger. “oh, don't worry, i won't tell if you don't,” shoko ends the call, tossing her phone aside with a nonchalant flick of her wrist. she turns her attention back to you, a devilish grin spreading across her features.
“well, that was entertaining,” she muses aloud, running her fingers down your side in a teasing manner. “but enough about satoru. let's focus on making sure you're ready for him.” shoko helps you to your feet, steadying you as your legs wobble beneath you. she leads you to the bathroom, where she begins running a warm bath.
#shoko x reader#shoko smut#shoko ieiri#shoko ieri x reader#shoko ieiri smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen imagine#choso smut#geto smut#gojo smut#itadori smut#megumi smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami smut#toji smut#sukuna smut
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alhaitham x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read
cw: omegaverse (alpha!alhaitham + omega!reader), heat, knotting, massive massive MASSIVE breeding kink, impregnation kink, size kink, slight sadism/masochism (more masochism if anything), mentions of pain + hurt, marking + biting, fingering, squirting, unintentional edging (receiving), allusions to dubcon + objectification (but none of it actually), slight nipple play, implied marathon sex
notes: sighs,,, idk how i ended up convincing myself to write omegaverse,,, but i really had a lot of fun with this,,, anyway, i love being an alhaitham fucker, and i love it even more when he loses it and can't be his usual put-together self. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings.
edit: 700+ notes?? y’all :((( i’m v touched and also cracking up lol omegaverse ig checks out - but tyssssm for all the love!! reminders that requests are still open (pls read my rules), and i’d love to have moots/anons!!!!
edit x2: 1,000+ notes... y'all... this is a massive milestone for me to hit - thank you so much for all the love on this lil drabble!! there's no amount of words that can describe how grateful i am, truly.
“ALHAITHAM, FASTER!”
you’re whining, sobbing, desperately begging your lover. anything will do – he can even just lie back and let you bounce up and down on his cock. but you’re only in such a frenzied, lucid state because of your heat. alhaitham, on the other hand, is a few weeks out from his next rut, which means he is able to think about what’s rationally best for you.
you’re infuriated. you need more. you need him to mount onto you, pounding and thrusting into you until you’re screaming for him to stop, and even then, he’ll continue to push you over the edge over and over again until you’re a sticky, fucked out doll. the fire in your belly is burning so passionately, and while you would say something snarky or sarcastic to rile alhaitham up, you can barely carry a thought and can only dig your fingernails into his biceps to convey your impatience.
your lover grunts at the piercing sensation and, through gritted teeth, says, “you just started your heat. rushing through it will only hurt you and lengthen your recovery process.”
you groan at his response, overtly dissatisfied and restless. alhaitham’s response is… it’s just so typical of him. he’s detail-oriented, almost scientific in the way he takes care of you. this isn’t your first heat with him, and he’s learned from prior experiences how to ensure your safety and comfort. in fact, the two of you now follow a procedure to prepare for your heat that consists of: gathering all of your favorite snacks and drinks; washing and prepping all of the pillows, clothes, and blankets you’ll need for your nest; and most importantly, figuring out a polite way of telling kaveh that he’s getting “sexiled.”
but this is overkill, you scream in your head. in missionary, alhaitham is going at a steady pace, but what he doesn’t know and can’t feel is that he’s edging you. he’s fanning the flames of your arousal yet never helping you reach the peak. he’s stimulating you at your most sensitive spots and parts, but it’s not enough for your release. he’s torturing you, and he can’t even tell.
“alhaitham,” you cry out for the nth time. “please, please, please! i can’t take it anymore! i just - i need your cock! i need to cum! please, please, i beg you, i promise you i’ll be fine! alhaitham!”
you’re breaking down into tears. by instinct, your body releases more of your scent, and somewhere beyond your crying, your lover takes a deep inhale.
while alhaitham isn’t in his rut, that doesn’t mean he can’t lose control. he hopes you know that he’s doing his best for you, that he’s holding onto the last shreds of his willpower because, if otherwise, he doesn’t know what will become of you. he’s so much bigger, stronger, sturdier than you are, towering over you in both size and strength. he can be painfully forceful, and inflicting pain upon you is the last thing he wants to do.
but you’re sobbing uncontrollably. you’re defenseless yet pleading him to take you roughly, to break in your pussy with his heavy, leaking cock. you want him to use his force to placate your insatiable heat. you need him to overpower you.
he releases a long, shuddering sigh. he attempts to rationalize, consider the potential repercussions of giving in. but he soon realizes he can’t think. your addicting, heady scent, combined with the beautiful sounds of your moans and whimpers, are rendering his mind empty.
it’s pointless. he growls, “you asked for this.”
one second you’re weeping, and the next all of the air inside you is knocked out by a sudden, harsh thrust from alhaitham. he’s going so fast and hard now, cock head brushing against your womb while his balls and knot slap against your asshole. you feel your toes curl at the feeling of being split apart, and your mouth parts to voice salacious moans.
this is what you wanted. you feel your body relax. you just have to take it, take his fat cock bullying your cunt open, take his harsh bites and teething at your nipples, take his seed until you’re filled to the brim. in your mind, all you can think is, you’re his, you’re alhaitham’s, he wants you. the omega in you croons happily, and you’re every bit as delighted as well.
alhaitham grips onto your wrists tightly as he shoves himself into your tight, sticky walls over and over again. at one point, he flips you over, commanding you to raise your ass up higher. as he holds onto your hips, he watches your ass bounce and jiggle as he pounds into you, and he wants to lick down the beautiful curve of your back. you’re doing your best to stifle your screams because somehow, your lover is reaching even deeper, and the scraping of your breasts against the bedsheets is driving you mad.
then, you feel one of alhaitham’s hands reach down, brushing against the fat of your thighs. it’s inching dangerously close to your throbbing clit, and heat rushes up to your face.
“wait, alhaitham, no –“
your lover pinches your yearning bud, and you scream. wetness gushing everywhere, you’re squirting and creaming, white cum staining your lover’s cock and leaking out of your pussy. your eyes roll back, and you’ve lost all ability to control your body, which is absolutely shaking as alhaitham continue to rub and flick at your clit as he tries to squeeze his knot into your fluttering hole.
“oh, archons! alhaitham! stop! no, no, it’s too much! it can’t fit!”
alhaitham, still teasing and toying with your pussy, leans over and snarls into your ear, “you were just saying you wanted more. now you can’t take it?”
you’re wailing. you feel as if you’re being ripped apart at the seams. but the thought of alhaitham’s knot is just too delicious to pass on, so you don’t complain anymore. you just accept the waves of pain and pleasure that crash over you as alhaitham finally locks his knot inside you and bites down on your neck.
your lover groans loudly, lost in his delirium as well. after a few more shallow grinds, he reaches his own high, and you feel rope after rope of his cum fill you up. alhaitham’s cum is so warm and gooey and thick that you’re drooling and slobbering over the pillows at being filled up so thoroughly – impregnated – with it.
even as he’s still cumming, alhaitham bites on the shell of your ear and commands, “keep up, because i’m not stopping anytime soon.”
you can only whimper and fist the blankets even tighter at his command, bracing yourself for the next round.
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham smut#al haitham#al haitham x reader#alhaitham genshin#genshin alhaitham#carrot cake!
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say you can't sleep, baby, I know
NSFW!Trey x Reader
Synopsis
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to rile him up, right? He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. Trey used to pride himself on his levelheadedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece. “Happy Birthday Trey~”
[wc} - 5,258
[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader (im sorry folks it's all i know how to write still), NRC is a university in this, domesticity kink, birthday sex, breeding kink (sue me), oral (giving & receiving), trey can be a little mean as a treat
[notes] - i apologize for the person i've become after seeing trey's new b-day card. it does things to me and this is 100% self-indulgent for me. also, tried to use very neutral descriptors for reader so tell me how that went and if it reads well! lastly, the outfit the reader wears is based on sabrina carpenter's outfits from her short n' sweet tour, specifically the baby doll one!
Written while listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter, I recommend listening to it while reading :)
Let’s consider exactly the type of person Trey is.
Ever since he’s started school at NRC, he’s always taken a bit of a parental role in Heartslabyul, even before he became vice housewarden. Even Cater would joke about it when they first became friends:
“You’re, like, a total big bro! O-M-G, no! You’re like a dad friend! I’m totes willing to bet that the incoming freshmen are gonna slip up! Call you Dad or something!”
Evidently, when Riddle came into the picture and Trey was appointed his vice, Cater was proven right. He didn’t mind it too much, despite what others might think.
He liked the familiarity of it, being the oldest at home, it translated well into his position at Heartslabyul, and it came with the added bonus of being able to minimize any chaos that arose.
That was his main goal, especially with Riddle’s temper during his freshman and at the beginning of his sophomore year. Honestly, he had phenomenal conflict resolution skills, and he just wanted to make his life as easy as possible.
Everyone at this school liked to make that difficult, though, especially the freshmen of this year.
“Oh fu—I mean sh—dam—fuc—shi—FIDDLESTICKS!”
“Dude, just say fuck, why you gotta say the corniest shit—OW—Treyyy! Deuce hit me!”
Deuce had a guilty look on his face as Trey looked up from his notebook to raise a brow at the two.
“W-well, Ace cussed, so he has to put money in the swear jar!”
“Aw what! Come on Trey!” Ace whined, shoving Deuce’s face to the side as the latter grunted and started pulling at his cheeks and arm. “Riddle’s not here, he’ll never know, so I don’t gotta! Don’t make me!”
Trey simply smirked and gestured to the jar on the fireplace mantle, helpfully available to everyone in the lounge.
“You know the rules, bud, two thaurmarks for the f-bomb and a .50 cent for the other.”
Ace tossed his head back and groaned, begrudgingly dragging himself over to the jar as he dug around his pocket for change.
“Don’t be rude to your father, Ace.” A few giggles and snorts vibrated amongst the small group studying in the lounge as you wagged a finger at Ace, Grim squinting angrily at the book in your lap.
Your lips quivered as you hid a laugh, jokingly chastising the ginger.
“No need to be a brat.”
Trey had to withhold a snort at that comment, rich coming from you. He knew better than anyone that you could be as much of a brat as you were another parental figure.
“Oh ha-ha, very funny, Prefect. What, does that make you, Mom or Dad 2?” Ace stuck his tongue out at you as you grinned and focused back on Grim.
“Okay Grimmy, so remember, what alchemy recipes need mandrake root?”
Watching from the corner of his eye, Trey watched fondly as you murmured soft words to Grim. It reminded him of his Mom talking to his siblings after a nightmare, or of his Dad after one of them would get hurt in the kitchen.
Soft, soothing, parental. You’d make an excellent parent one day.
Trey felt himself get warm at the thought, adjusting himself in his seat and looking back at his musicology notes. He couldn’t sing very well, but he can memorize notes, and that’s what the upcoming exam was focused on.
That’s what he needed to focus on, not the way you cradled Grim against you like a parent with their child. Focus on his alchemy flashcards, and not the way you cleaned up the mess on the table so you could bring everyone a tray of snacks he’d prepared earlier that day. Focus on the history textbook in front of him, and not the way you cleaned up the lounge as it got later and later.
It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair how well you fell into the role. Cleaning and humming, one of his spare aprons on you as you wiped down the tables of crumbs and stacked a pile of dishes. It was unfair how sweetly you murmured to the few remaining students, and told them to go to bed and rest up.
They obliged, probably half asleep at this rate, since it was an hour until midnight. Ace and Deuce had retired a while ago, the latter leaning on the former as they haphazardly stumbled to their room.
Riddle had dropped by after his housewarden meeting, satisfied by the study group, but ultimately stuck to his very strict evening routine.
Now it was just you two. Even Grim had been tugged along with Ace and Deuce earlier, not unlike a rag doll slung over their shoulders.
“Trey? Honey, when are you going to sleep? It’s almost midnight.” His eyes fluttered tiredly as he felt your hands slide over his shoulders and a kiss pressed against his temple.
He felt warm again, heat pooling in his belly. You were so unfair.
“You should go to bed soon, come on, I’ll take care of you.”
He can think of a few ways you could ‘take care’ of him.
“It’s fine, why don’t you get Grim and head back to Ramshackle? Curfew is in 30 minutes, you know?”
You rolled your eyes, sighing into his ear, making a tingle go down his spine.
“Okay, but please go to bed soon? I left you a little birthday surprise in your bedroom~”
Trey perked up at that, eyeing your mischievous grin as you waved your fingers goodbye, going down the hallway to the dorms to grab Grim.
To be honest, he’d forgotten that his birthday was tomorrow, he’d been so focused on his midterms that it just slipped his mind. Well, he can’t say he’s not excited to see what you got him, especially since you’d been not too subtly probing him for preferences.
He groaned, running his hands over his face and sighing, heavy and exhausted.
“Ugh, just a bit more and I’ll retire for the night.” Trey reassured himself, eyes straining as he looked between the books in front of him.
The words on the papers blurred after a bit, the sound of the grandclock lulling him further into sleep, his head nodding off until a ping from his phone started him awake.
It was Cater, his Magicam user popping up on his screen.
cay-cay_diamond: hbd trey!! 🥳🎉🎉🎉grats on being an old man now!
Blinking at the clock, Trey realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight, so it was technically his birthday. He’s lucky that Riddle followed his own sleep schedule so rigorously, or else he’d be getting a scolding for breaking curfew.
luckyclover: Old? I’m only like 4 months older than you cay-cay_diamond: yeah. old. cay-cay_diamond: anyways! enjoy the gift in ur room!!! i helped (name) pick out the wrapping 😘😘😘
Trey hummed, a small smile on his face as he imagined the two of you bickering over wrapping paper and messily wrapping up a box with a bow. You did seem very excited for him to find it earlier, maybe you two picked something out together.
He was curious on what exactly you got him and why you hadn’t waited to give it to him at his actual birthday party. And why did you need Cater to help you…you’d always shoo him away when he’d tried helping you with gifts for other’s birthdays.
Stacking his books into his left hand and walking towards the junior dorm rooms, Trey looked at his phone as it pinged again.
cay-cay_diamond: on that topic thooo…u should rly go 2 ur room and get ur present! the poor thing! they’ve been w8ing very patiently 4 u~ luckyclover: Waiting? (Name)??? cay-cay_diamond: 🤭🤫😉
Trey sighed, shaking his head and tucking his phone away and digging out his room keys. It was times like these, deep into the night, when he was thankful for having his own room. He felt a bit bad now, you probably fell asleep in his bed waiting for him.
Though, the thought of you clutching one of his pillows, maybe in one of his sweaters to keep warm, made him smile. Then he could come in, gently take your clothes and shoes off to get you more comfortable, and dress down himself to slip in right behind you.
As he finally managed to get to his room, he heard shuffling as he turned the keys. Trey smirked, noticing that only his rose lamp remained on, and all the drapes to his canopy were now closed.
He could just barely make out the shadow of you moving behind them, hearing you gasp and the bed squeak, making him let out a soft laugh under his breath.
“You’re breaking curfew, you should be asleep you know? You're such a troublemaker sometimes.” Trey teased you as placed his books on his desk, tossing his hat onto its stand and slipping his shoes off to throw them into his wardrobe and grab his slippers.
He yawned, the late night really starting to sink into his body as he started undressing, his jacket and vest getting hung back up in the closet as he worked on his sash and unbuttoning his pants.
“Only like a third of the time!” You whined, the bed softly squeaking as you followed his movements behind the canopy. “Besides, I really wanted to give you your present. Don’t you want to unwrap me?”
Trey paused at the purr in your voice, narrowing his gaze as he saw your hand ever so slightly move the curtain at the end of the bed to peek at him. You were still mostly shrouded in darkness, but there was a very soft glow coming from inside the canopy, so he could just barely make out your mischievous smile.
Though, you quickly frowned, eyeing him up and down out of concern.
“Not if you’re too tired though, you have bags under your eyes, Trey. Do you just wanna go to sleep?”
Giving you a weary smile, Trey finally tossed his sash to the side and reached for the curtains, pushing them to the side to finally take a look at your “mysterious” present.
“In a bit, let me see what you got me…”
Trey’s breath hitched, he suddenly felt very wide awake as his eyes roamed up and down your body.
From the corner of his eye, he could see that you set up string lights along the top of the canopy for ambiance, making you look like you were almost glowing. Though it wasn’t that that made him lose his voice.
You were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs curled underneath you, dressed in the most darling sage-green, sheer baby doll dress. The dress's puffy sleeves and hem were lacy, matching the lace on the stockings.
Holy shit you were wearing stockings.
“Ha, I wanted to surprise you, I thought you could use a stress reliever.”
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?
“I should’ve realized that you’d be tired from studying for midterms, sorry.”
You're trying to rile him up, right?
“But, still, do you like it? I wrapped myself up just for you~”
He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. To behave.
“In any case,” You shifted onto your knees, the dress splitting in the middle, the only thing keeping it together being a small bow at the base of your neck, revealing the lack of undergarments, just your bare skin underneath. “Even if you’re too tired and just want to sleep, I just wanted to say…”
Trey leaned in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, batting your eyelashes and ghosting your lips over his with a teasing smile. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, making him melt.
“Happy Birthday Trey~”
It’s now that he noticed that you even added a gloss to your lips, and he could smell the warm perfume on your neck as you pressed your lips to his, tongue swiping over his mouth, asking for permission to enter. Obliging, Trey sighed into the kiss and tangled his tongue with yours, his hands slipping underneath the baby doll and squeezing at your waist.
He really should go to sleep. He has to wake up early for the party. He has to dress in his birthday robes. He has to make sure that the others don’t burn down the kitchen or damage his expensive bakeware as they made his cake.
But the way your skin felt under his gloved hands, skin meeting skin, lace, skin, and lace again.
How could he be expected to sleep now?
Trey used to pride himself on his level headedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece.
Humming in delight against your mouth, Trey slid his hands down, as you curled into his body in response, and squeezed at the fat of your thighs before picking you up.
A yelp left your mouth as he picked you up and tossed you up the bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it behind him as he crawled on top of you.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he saw the way the dress fell open to expose your body, your chest moving up and down as you watched him with a giddy smile.
“Oh! I guess you’re not that tired—ah!”
You gasped as Trey grabbed your calves, tugging you up to place the back of your knees on his shoulders. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your right thigh, smirking against the lace.
“I was tired. I should be asleep,” Trey murmured against your stocking laced skin, pressing kisses as he went farther and farther down. “Resting—kiss—Up—kiss—but no.”
He gave you a half-hearted glare, which you responded with a smile and lacing your hands through his hair as he pressed another kiss to the bend where your thigh met your sex.
“You broke curfew, you wanted to keep me up with your little ‘present’, you know I’d get in trouble for hiding you out in my room.”
Trey gave you a bite on your thigh, groaning as he felt your hands tighten in his hair, moving back to press a soothing kiss to the mark he left.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble? Throw me in the doghouse?” “Cause I’ll make sure you come right with me, after a little taste of my birthday treat.”
The same time he ran his tongue up your sex, Trey could feel you shiver and pull on his hair as he ate you feverishly, like a man starved from food or water for ages.
“Mmm! Trey!” You threw your head back, bringing one hand up to slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, the walls here weren’t known to be sound-proof.
He should probably care a bit more, especially when you let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as his tongue began fucking into your hole.
“Trey! Oooh, Trey~”
Bringing a finger to join his tongue, Trey smiled against your skin as you squeezed your thighs around his head, using his free hand to push his pants and underwear down to palm at his dick.
“Trey—aaaah—wait, let me—mmph—Honey—” You let out a shuddering gasp, pulling his head up from your sex. Trey locked eyes with you, leaning into the hand you slid down to cup his cheek and caress his lower lips, wiping the slick and drool from the corner of his mouth.
“Yes? Honey?” Removing his hand from inside you to cover your own hand and kiss your palm, Trey smiled and hummed, “I like that, you know, reminds me of a husband coming home to his spouse.”
Pressing kisses up your body, soft and tingly, up your neck, and back to your lips where they belonged.
“Hmm, I really like the sound of that, (Name) Clover.” You murmured against his lips, smiling as you wrapped a leg around his waist to bring his dick closer to your sex, rubbing against him as you both sighed into each other’s mouths.
“Is that what you want? You want me to be a cute little spouse? Dress up in a cute apron? Greet you when you come home from work?”
So focused on the softness of your lips and the wetness sliding against his dick, Trey didn’t even notice you twisting your body to turn him onto his back, the back of his head hitting the back of his pillows as you sat on top with a cheeky grin.
“Hm? How would my husband want me to welcome him home? A hug? A kiss? Mm, what about…me?” Trey watched you with flushed cheeks as you kissed down his body, mimicking his earlier actions as you helped him tug off the rest of his clothes.
“Oh, how nice it would be for you to come back to a warm, clean home with a spouse…” Looking up at him through your eyelashes and giving him a kitten lick to his tip. “...ready to give soft wet holes for you to fill~”
Giving him a vision into that sweet, sweet future, you swallowed his tip, down his shaft, and started sucking.
“Haaah—”
Trey lolled his head back into his pillow, letting out a breathless moan as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand working the rest that didn’t fit into your mouth.
“Fuuuuck. That does sound nice—mmh!” Reaching his hand down, you immediately took one of your hands to lace it with his, squeezing it as you hummed around his cock.
“My lovely spouse—nnnngh—their pretty mouth—unnnh—soft holes—aaaah—all for me to come home to every day, what a dream~”
A particularly harsh suck made Trey arch his back and squeeze your hand harder, a giggle vibrating his dick as you pulled off.
“Hehe, is this your way of proposing? Kinda dirty to do it with your dick on my mouth.” You giggled, pressing kisses and quick licks along his shaft.
“That’s okay though, you and I both know that deep down, you’re a bit of a pervert. Right?”
Trey scoffed, tugging you up with a bemused smile. “Yeah? How can you tell? Thought I hid that pretty well.”
A soft laugh escaping you, you held both of his hands, bringing them up to press kisses on his knuckles, making the green-haired man sigh fondly.
“The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re undressing me. It makes me feel all warm and tingly, especially when I piss you off.”
Both of you let out a breathless moan as your wetness rubbed against his hard dick, grinding against one another as the tip occasionally caught against your hole, making you shiver.
“Is it bad that sometimes I wanna get you mad so you’ll fuck me real mean? Is it bad that I want you to use me? To fuck your stress out with me?”
A lump forming in his throat, Trey let go of your hands to pull at the string holding your flimsy baby doll together. Eyes half lidded, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, watching it pool at your elbows as you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your grinding turned into vigorous humping against him, making you both gasp in pleasure.
“Ooh, Trey, honey, baby, hubby~ Won’t you use me? Be a little mean? Pleeeease? Fuck me, fill me up like I know you want! Pleeeeease Trey? Pretty, pretty please?”
Lips smashed against yours as Trey bolted up, groaning into your mouth as he grabbed your hips in an almost painful grip.
He picked you up once again, throwing you on all fours, covers tangling against your knees and hands, as he ripped your dress off and tossed it.
Trey’s left hand placed itself on your hip, while his right pushed down on your back, following up your spine to the base of your neck where he pushed you down to shove your face into the sheets, forcing you into a doggy pose.
“So you do like getting me in trouble, little brat. Fine, I’ll be mean.”
Trey lined his dick against your throbbing hole, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your ear and moving the hand on your neck to wove with your right, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Squeeze three times if you need me to stop, otherwise, I’m going to fuck that brain right out of your pretty little head, since you don’t seem to be wanting to use it.”
In one, swift move, Trey slammed his hips to your ass, sinking nearly half his length into your warm, waiting hole.
“FUCK! YES—MMMPH” Burying your face into the sheets to muffle your cries, Trey did the same into your shoulder, shivering at your tightness around him.
Setting a rhythm, hips smacking into your ass, Trey worked the rest of his cock into you until he could hear the smack of your ass against his hips, the sound echoing with the creak of the bed.
Your tightness around him was heavenly, as was the sight of you sinking further into the bed and arching your ass to sloppily meet his thrusts. Straightening again, bending your arm back so that your hands could remain intertwined.
His left hand caressed your back and the fat of your behind, before bringing it down in a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp and squeeze his hand in a vice grip, though you also tightened around his cock.
Rubbing a soothing circle against the reddening skin, slowed his thrusts, making you whine and push against him.
“Haaah, that okay? Feel good?” Trey murmured, smiling at the frantic nod and wiggle against him. “Want me to keep going?”
“Mmmph... yessshh... mmmore, mmmore... pleeeashh, honey~” Your sounds were muffled as you bit into the blanket, getting higher and higher as he obliged, not one to deny you after all.
Every other thrust was met with a slap to one cheek, then the other, the skin turning redder and redder with his handprints marking you. The harder he went, the more and more slack you went, until he was eventually just fucking you like his personal toy.
Though, you did offer yourself as his present, didn’t you? So it was only fair that he got to use his present as he wished, and right now, he wanted to feel you cumming around him.
Ceasing his smacks, making you whine, Trey instead melded his body against yours, the weight both overwhelming and comforting, as his left hand instead moved to your sex to rub you to completion.
Trey watched as you gasped for breath, completely burying your head into the bed to muffled your screams as you came around him, trembling and squeezing him.
The feeling of your walls pulsating around his shaft was becoming dangerously addicting, and he was very greedy for more of that.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close! You can give me another one, right?”
Slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, Trey adjusted you so that you sat on his dick, kissing the side of your neck for reassurance as he let go of your hand to quickly slide his arms under your knees.
From all his years of tossing bags of flour and sugar, from kneading dough, from all the labor he’s done as a baker, picking you up was like child’s play.
Folding your knees up to your chest so he could hold you, back flush to his chest, was nothing for him. Everything for you, though, your over sensitive hole squeezing down on him again.
“FUCK! I caaame! Treytreytreytrey—” You dug a hand into his arm, tossing your head back and lolling your tongue out with a dumb, drooly smile on your lips.
“A-almost there—nngh—just squeeze if I need to stop—I’m so close~”
Smashing his lips against yours for an open mouth, wet kiss, Trey pounded faster into you, determined to feel your walls pulsate again, this time as he filled your insides up like one of his pastries.
Then, an awful, perverted thought filled his head, like a devil was whispering in his ear.
Why doesn’t he fill them up with his kids? Don’t stop until his cum is drooling out of their hole, and go again to make up for the lost seed. He already wants them to be his spouse, why not add a few little ones to that picture?
Trey was losing any bit of restraint that he may have had as he was now determined to fullfill his fantasy. Even if you couldn’t do it, magic made anything here possible, and right now is good practice anyway.
“I’m—aaaahhh—I’m gonna come inside, okay? Fill you up, yeah?”
Digging your nails into his skin, you nodded against his mouth and whined.
“Yessssss! Fill me up! Inside! Gimme a baby Trey! I wanna make you a daaaaddy~”
Squeezing your legs further against your chest, Trey pounded faster and faster, trembling as he reached close and closer to his peak.
Warmth flooded his body, tingles, and he swears sparks, flying over his skin as he felt you clamp down on him for a third time.
Your voice squealed higher and higher, any previous attempt to be quiet for naught as you practically screamed.
Trey shuddered as he finally came, cum flooding your warm insides as you went limp in his arms.
Panting for air, both of you remained still for a minute, the bed feeling stuffy with the curtains still closed. After another minute, Trey pulled you up and off of him, shaky as his now limp dick left your warm, comfortable embrace.
Doing his best to gently place you on the bed, Trey let out a breathless laugh as you collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, blinking your eyes tiredly at the ceiling of the canopy.
“Haah, sorry, I went too hard there, huh?”
You shook your head, giving him a tired smile and reaching a hand for him, which he took and brought up to kiss.
“It was good, really, good. You liked your present?”
Snorting and nodding, Trey carefully scooped you up to move your head onto the pillows and gently roll off your garter stocking, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he did.
“Yeah, I did. Come on, let me get you a shirt.”
You whined as he pulled away, exhaustion starting to steep into him as he tied back the curtains to the canopy to let the stuffiness out. Trey picked up the baby doll he’d tossed earlier, placing it into his wardrobe drawer as he dug out a shirt and sweatpants for himself and a shirt for you.
As he closed the drawer, he noticed your backpack hidden underneath it, digging in it to grab you some underwear. You had packed a pair of pajamas, apparently, but…he’d rather see you in his clothes.
“Hmm, honey? Come to bed…” You whined, hands reaching out for him impatiently as he slipped on his clothes, crawling over to you and helping you slip your underwear and his shirt on.
“I’m here, I’m here.”
Trey slowly blinked, eyelids heavy as he scoop you up to place you two under the covers, the soft mattress making him practically become one with the bed and you as you nestled into his chest.
Your legs tangled with his as Trey wrapped his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. He could feel fatigue and sleep quickly taking over him as your voice vibrated against his chest, soft and sleepy.
“Happy birthday honey, I—yawn—love…you…”
A different kind of warmth, soft and sweet, filled him as he squeezed you tighter against him, murmuring back.
“I love you too…”
*Riiiing* *Riiiiiiiing* *Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*
An irritating, loud noise filled Trey’s ears as he groaned, half-awake as he turned over to smack his hand on his phone, silencing the alarm.
“Aah…Noisy…hhggh.” Trey groaned, rolling over, careful to not crush you under him to blindly reach for his glasses.
“Glasses…glasses…ah..”
Plastic and glass finally under his palm, Trey slipped his glasses on his face, ultimately throwing himself back into bed next to you, who’d begun shifting awake.
“Mmm, honey?”
Grunting in response, Trey threw an arm over his eyes, irritated at the sun seeping through the window into his eyes.
“Early…”
You chuckled, a yawn escaping you as you decided to move closer and slip a hand under his shirt to rub at his chest, pressing kisses into his neck as well.
“You’re so grumpy in the morning. Come on, you've got a big day ahead.”
“…Ugh, I do?”
Snorting at his response, Trey grunted as he felt you move, peaking under his arm to see you resting on your elbow. You had puffy, dark circles under your eyes from the little sleep you managed to get.
“Birthdays are a pretty big deal, right?” Smiling at him, Trey squinted an eye and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest.
“Ugggh, yeah…”
Hearing you hum, Trey groaned in surprise as he felt you straddle his waist and caress his neck and cheeks, making him remove his arm to blink up at you.
Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in all sorts of places. The bags under your eyes more noticeable under the night. His shirt dwarfed you. You were a hot mess, all things considered.
He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, with how cute you were last night, but he thinks you look most beautiful like this. Better than any frilly, skimpy, or tight outfit.
“Come on, Birthday Boy, want me to give you a little pick me up?”
Kissing him with a smile, Trey moaned into the lazy, sloppy morning kiss, tilting his head back as you pressed kissed down his neck, deciding to work on leaving a love bite at the nape of his neck.
Trey’s phone chimed, making him sigh as he reached for it, letting you continue your love bites and kisses,
Squinting at the few messages, it seemed like a few of his friends and classmates were already sending him birthday wishes. Though, a message from Cater made him blot up, a sudden shock of alertness running down his spine.
“Ah! Trey, what is it?”
cay-cay_diamond: morning!! happy bday 2 the bday boi again! thought i let u no tht u owe me a favor, had 2 cast a silencing spell on ur roum last nite. totes ruined my beauty sleep! cay-cay_diamond: also i know u got ur lil cutie 2 distract ya, but liek dont b l8 2 ur bday breakfast, grimmy might eat it!
“Shit, we were too loud, Cater had to cast a silencing spell on the room.”
You made an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, giving Trey an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, but at least you enjoyed it, right?”
Trey smiled, more awake now, and nodded, sharing a sweet kiss with you.
“Definitely. You might have to consider making your go-to gift for now on, it’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve ever gotten.”
He solidified that statement with one more, firm, assuring kiss with you, before having to leave your sweet dream into the real world.
At least he could have one part of that dream with him at his side from now on: you.
comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷
#mochi fic#twst#twisted wonderland#trey clover#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#trey clover x reader#twst trey#twisted wonderland smut#twst smut#trey clover smut#happy birthday trey#anyways thats my husband and i probably wont get this out of my system for a while
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it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.
it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.
you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.
it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.
your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?
it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.
your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.
it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.
literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!
it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.
but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!
get moving.
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Hiiii, I love your posts I think they're all great and I love your writing style:3
But to the ask, how do think batfamily would react to batsib coming home with a logo of one of their symbols on their backpack because a friend at school gave it to them?
Like for Bruce obviously the bat symbol, Dick the nightwing symbol, ect.
They would fangirl-...fanbat? fanboy?, whatever. They would be very, very excited. You mean to say that you're not embarrassed of having a nightwing logo on you? Aww!!! He loves you too :))))
Bruce would smile to himself, nothing more. He doesn't want you to feel like anything is off, he is just silently happy.
Dick makes a big deal out of it, though. He starts buying you nightwing merch and nightwing figures and nightwing limited edition batburgers, despite how fast food is against the rules. Since you're SUCH a big fan, he will do anything <3
Jason is smug as hell. You like red hood? In that case...how about you get matching tattoos? No? Okay...( he will convince you...one day...)
Tim is excited in a hyperactive way. He's practically bouncing off the walls. Yes! It worked! You don't hate him anymore! Tim immediately starts noting down the progress, as though you were an experiment. But don't worry, you're far too precious to be experimented on...
Stephanie is also excited, but she'a a lot more cool about it. You have a spoiler sticker? Cool (omigodomigod they like me!!!! YES!!!!!!).
Cassandra doesn't show it, but she is quite happy. She probably won't comment on it, but she will subtly smile.
Duke is excited, but cool about it, much like Stephanie. Signal is your favourite hero...? Oh...cool :) (YEESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!! YES. YESSSSS.)
Damian isn't suprised. He's the best robin, of course you would have a robin logo on you. He smirks pridefully and all that, but that's not enough for him. He needs everyone to know that he's your favourite. During dinner, he'd brag in a not-so-subtle way. Everybody hates him for it, but he's just that happy. How can you blame him?
#dc comics#batfam#platonic yandere#x reader#platonic batfam#yandere batfam#jason todd#tim drake#dick grayson#bruce wayne#duke thomas#damian wayne#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#yandere cassandra cain#yandere stephanie brown#yandere duke thomas#yandere damian wayne#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere x reader#yandere#batfam x reader#batfamily#batfamily x reader
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