#five days from me own b-day
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spiralling 🎉
#(using they/them for anonymity reasons)#first i told a friend i would read their fic and i really did want to!! and their fic was genuinely really well written and they're an-#amazing writer but i just COULDN'T FOCUS i couldn't get through it i couldn't FOCUS ON IT#second i misinterpreted a message and accidentally mocked someone for making a typo#someone else was mocking them first but i missed the message and I thought they were mocking their own typo#(A made the typo & B mocked them for it; I missed the original messages and thought B had made the typo and was mocking themself#so i joined in cause i thought it was fine)#but then A got rightfully upset and I didn't want to explain that I'd misinterpreted things because I didn't want them to be feeling bad-#for ME when THEY were the one hurt#THIRD there's a close friend i meant to make a christmas gift for and now it's the 28th nearly the 29th and i didn't give them anything and#i feel so fucking bad and its just adding to the first two things#PLUS i got like five hours of sleep last night and it's been a long fucking day and im really tired so that doesn't help#sorry i'm#ill probably be fine in the morning. i will finish the christmas gift & try to focus on the friend's fic and move on from the typo#(i don't think that would have bothered me if i wasn't already feeling bad)#the otter splashes#the otter ventposts
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HANDS OF AN ANGEL ! — RAFE CAMERON (18+ smut mdni)
in which, washing rafe's hair didn't go as you planned.
you looked up slowly from your book to the sound of your bedroom door opening roughly, rafe trudging in lethargically. your eyes followed him around the room as he threw off his clothes one by one, a trail of fabric following him until he was just left in his boxers.
you rolled your eyes at his unnecessary messiness and let your eyes travel back down to the off-white pages of your book.
you could only read about three words before rafe huffed rather dramatically across the room.
you ignored his annoying sighs and groans until it was physically impossible to not pay attention to him, slamming your book closed and looking at him from the bed.
"what is it rafey?" you asked sweetly, even though you knew what he was gonna ask. "shower" he said simply, nudging his head towards the bathroom from where he stood right outside it. "can't baby, i already put all my lotions and oils and stuff, you're gonna have to have one without me" you answered, watching his face turned into that of a five-year-olds if they were just told they couldn't go to disneyland that day.
"ok" he huffed, turning around and entering the bathroom, but leaving the door open so you could see everything. you giggled softly, turning your attention back to the book in your hands.
you only perked up when you heard the tap of the bath turn on, not the shower. rafe was having a bath?
if there was one thing you had to know about rafe cameron, is that he hated baths, more than an average human being did. he only tolerated them because he could feel you up more in the bath than in the shower because of the close proximity.
but he always took a shower after because he doesn't like 'bathing in his own filth for half and hour'
you itched to get up and hop in the bath with him, but that's what he wanted, because why else would he torture himself like that?
after about 5 minutes of reading the same line over and over again, you untangled yourself from your bedsheets and made your way over to your vanity. reaching your hand into the brown paper shopping bag, you pulled out bottles of shampoo, conditioner, hair masks and hair oils, making your way over to the bathroom with an arm full of hair products.
he heard you from a mile away, staring straight at you as you walked into his trap. "got you baby" he said, hinting at the fact that he was having a bath, for you.
"nope" you said, padding your way over to the bathtub. he looked at you quizzically at the new products you had with you.
you were glad that even though he was very very naked, there were mounds of bubbles covering him, his face and shoulders the only thing showing above the water. because after you spent nearly an hour after your shower rubbing oils and creams over your skin, you really didn't want to end up in the bath with rafe
"what've you got there bug?" he asked as you dragged your soft bathmat to the edge of the bathtub so you could have something to kneel on, placing the products softly on the floor.
"gonna wash your hair rafe" you state, reaching over and running your hand softly through his wet hair. "yeah?" he asked, tilting his head softly in admiration. "i went out and got some stuff for your hair type, not that you need any help with your hair at all! i just wanna do stuff for you like you do stuff for me." you quickly got quieter by the end of your sentence, avoiding eye contact with him.
"c'mere baby" he whispers, matching your soft tone. you hesitantly look at him, biting your lip nervously. your chin felt wet as he gripped it softly, bringing your lips to touch his as he kissed you. he pulled back first, resting his forehead on yours as he looked at you. "thank you, baby. i don't do the stuff i do for you to get repaid, but i love that you think of me"
you beam at his words, leaning down again and placing one last peck on his lips.
you pull up the sleeves of your long-sleeved white pyjama shirt before you lean over to squirt a generous amount of shampoo on your palm.
after rubbing your hands together to create a milky white texture in the shampoo, you leaned over the tub. the white acrylic made contact with where your bra wire would be had you been wearing one, oblivious that as you were reaching your arms to rafe's hair your tits were being pushed together, his eyes immediately staring holes into your cleavage.
"your hair is gonna be so soft rafey!" you exclaimed, using your acrylics to massage the shampoo into his scalp, making his eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure.
you pulled back after sudsing up the liquid, biting your lip in concentration as you placed your hands on the side of his head and lowered his hair in the water.
he looked up to you, your hair hanging over him, your stare so concentrated, and your tits fully in his face.
rafe knows you didn't notice how much harder it was getting to hide his hard-on under the now less soapy water, the combination of you scratching his scalp and your cleavage fully on view making him spiral.
"ok, all done! once you get out, ill-dry it and put some oil on the ends." you voiced after raking the conditioner and leave in treatment through his hair, leaning down to kiss him after he made a come here motion with his fingers.
what you were unaware of though, is that as rafe was deepening the kiss between you two, he was pulling his hands out of the warm water and straight to your chest.
"rafe!" you gasped, pulling back instinctively as his hands made your once white shirt now see-through at your nipples.
"shh baby, c'mere. don't make me ask you again" he groaned, sitting up straighter so he could use his hands to pull your body towards his.
as he began another steamy kiss with you, he traced your nipples through your shirt, making you shiver. "rafe... i don't wanna get all wet" you whined, pulling back for a moment, giving him a chance to latch his mouth onto one of your tits.
"ill help you put more cream on later, now let me fuck that sweet pussy of yours" he rasped, pulling your shirt and shorts off as you came to a stand in front of him.
"can't believe my baby would think that i would let her win and sit out there reading her book. so naive" rafe cooed, his soft mannerisms of holding your hand until you made it safely in the tub being a complete juxtaposition of the nasty words he had uttered before.
you melted in the somehow still-warm water as he sucked at your neck, his hands roaming all around your body until he made it to your core.
"you're lucky we're in the tub bunny, because i'm gonna make you cum so hard you're gonna make a mess" he whispered into your ear, bringing a strong hand up to rest firmly around your neck, and the other now making circles on your clit.
you looked up at him in a daze, you're eyes already glossed over as you laid your head against his chest. due to the confined space, you could already feel his hard length resting below your ass, making you squirm.
he entered one finger into you without warning, making you gasp. "shhh, quit whining. you're alright." rafe commanded, beginning to pump his finger in and out of you. he placed soft kisses on your head, his hand on your throat providing a comforting presence to you somehow.
rafe always made sure that during these times you felt loved and appreciated by him, knowing that your mind had the tendency to roam with thoughts 24/7.
"ready for another baby?" rafe asked, your walls somehow still tight around his finger. your hum in reply earned rafe to tighten his hold around your neck, urging you to use your words.
"yes rafey, please" you replied, snuggling more in his chest and looking up and him with glossy eyes. "ok, are you sure you can take it?" he teased, earning a whine to come from your chapped lips.
he slipped another finger into you, pumping them in and out as you squirmed. "good girl, such a good girl for me" he praised, beginning to pick up speed as you gleamed at his praise.
"g-gonna come rafey" you whined, gasping as he quickly pulled his fingers out of you. you immediately turned your head to look up at him in shock, annoyed that he wouldn't let you come to his reach.
"don't look at me like that brat, you can cum on my cock" he remarked, placing another kiss on your head as you whined once more.
he pulled his hand cock to line up with your entrance, stroking your cheek as he slid into you softly. "shh, your alright sweet girl. i got you" rafe reassured in response to your gasp.
he groaned as he bottomed out inside of you, stalling for a moment to look at your expression before beginning to pump in and out. "shit, most perfect pussy i ever had. taking my whole cock like the perfect girl you are, love you so much" he rambled, his mind in a haze as you squeezed around him.
he began picking up his pace, slamming into you from below as the water rippled from his movements. you were to cock drunk to worry that the water could splash out of the tub, gasping as he brought a finger down to circle your clit.
"rafe" you whined as you tightened around him, signalling to him that the knot in your tummy was about to burst. "i got you baby, milk my cock"
you squeezed your eyes shut as you came around him, hearing his groan echo in your ears as he shot his load inside of you. you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as he worked you through your orgasm, slowing the circling of his fingers as he stroked your hair as whispered in your ear
"so perfect for me baby, so so perfect"
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 7 : Sweet Strawberry
Summary: You're not a soldier, you're just an omega. You shouldn't have to remind them of that, yet you find yourself needing to. Price makes it up to you in the best way possible.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, fluff, suggestive content, terrible flirting
A/N: Not entirely happy with it but it's done and I can move on from this one. I struggled so much with this chapter omg. Also, I just wanted to make it clear that I am not from the UK, I've never been to the UK, I'm simply going off of prior knowledge and what Google can tell me. So, if there's any inaccuracies, I am so sorry.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
You’re expecting the knock when it comes. You’d been standing in front of your door for almost five minutes, and you get it open almost before he’s finished, hand still raised. He gives no sign that betrays his surprise, if he feels any at all, instead he simply looks you over before turning on his heel and marching towards the door.
You close your door behind you, slipping down the hallway after him. It’s raining again, though you had prepared for that, flipping the hood of your jacket up as you hurry after Ghost. He threatens to disappear in the darkness of morning, slipping between the street lamps like a specter. It’s not often you get to see the true danger in them, the threats that they pose, the things that make them good at their job. You can imagine how many on his opposing side have been caught unawares by the way he seems to flow with the darkness around him.
You are significantly less graceful and quiet, feet slapping the wet pavement as you speed walk to keep up with the giant alpha. You can almost imagine the look on his face as you plod along behind him. If your lives depended on your silence at this moment, well, it wouldn’t entirely have been your fault. If he didn’t walk so fucking fast...
He’s at least courteous enough to hold the door open for you, though perhaps that was simply something that was deeply ingrained in him. Manners that become unconscious practice, even when you despise the person you’re with. He leads you down the hall towards the practice room again, unlocking it and flipping on the lights. He empties his pockets and removes his shoes and sweatshirt, before moving to one of the punching bags.
You can already predict what your lesson today will entail. Your knuckles have almost completely healed since your little fit a week ago. You quickly strip off your jacket and toe off your wet shoes, moving to join him without having to be told.
“Do you know how to wrap your hands?” He asks, holding out two rolls of hand wraps.
“No.” You shake your head. It’s not entirely true. They had shown you once while you were with the CIA, but that had been weeks ago and you’re sure you’ve forgotten the right way to do it. Even if you tried, he’d likely sigh and do it himself anyway.
He lets out a breath, pocketing one of the wraps before grabbing your right wrist. His hands are just as rough as you remember them being the day you punched Corporal Allen, calluses dragging against your skin as he meticulously wraps the fabric around your fingers. You watch him, trying to memorize how to do it in hopes that maybe, eventually, you’ll surprise him and manage it yourself.
He finishes your hands quickly before wrapping his own. You flex your hands, trying to get used to the feeling of the wraps. They’re not too tight, shockingly. You had half expected him to choke your fingers until they’re purple just because. But, you also know Price will be looking for any mark or sign of injury as soon as he sees you at breakfast. The thought of him laying into Ghost for even a bruise as your stomach twisting, and not in a bad way.
“Make a fist.” Ghost says, crossing his arms as he stands in front of you.
You stare at his bulging muscles for a second too long, quickly curling your fingers as your face warms.
He takes hold of your hand, inspecting your fist. “Not bad.”
“I did grow up with brothers.” You murmur.
“Did they ever hit you?” He asks as he turns you to face the boxing bag.
“Only playfully.” You say, missing the subtle edge to his voice. “Dad would have caved their heads in if they ever tried.”
You can’t see the way he’s staring at you as he stands slightly behind you, but you can feel his gaze as it lingers for just a second longer than you expected it to. You’re not sure if maybe he doesn’t believe you, or maybe he knows there’s more to the story. You’ve hardly spoken about your family since your arrival, but they seemed to accept the fact that they haven’t been your family for years now as a valid reason.
“Get into your fighting stance.” He finally says, moving around you as you take the stance you had perfected last training session. “Good.” He says, looking you over. “Now throw a punch at the bag.”
You squeeze your fists, imagining Corporal Allen’s face on the bag before you throw a punch, barely managing to move the bag.
“Punches like that are what will get you hurt.” Ghost says, extending your arm. “You can throw your weight, which is good. That’s why you were able to throw Allen off his feet. You’re asking for a broken arm, though. Keep your arm flat and facing downwards through the entire punch. Aim with the knuckles and twist your lower body for support.”
He throws a punch at the bag, the sound of his fist hitting it loud, and you watch the bag swing back and forth violently. He could probably punch through you if he wanted to. Your pitiful punch wouldn’t even stun him.
He stops the bag from swinging, having you throw repeated punches at it. He fixes your form and technique as you go, teaching you different kinds of punches. Your arms quickly get tired, and you know you’re going to be sore again. Maybe you should take up some weight lifting or something. You could ask Soap to help you.
You go until your arms feel like they're going to fall off, your shoulders burning. “I can't anymore.” You whine, breathing heavily from the exertion of throwing punches for 30 minutes.
“You have to learn to push through the pain.” He says, looming over you. “You think in a fight, everyone will just stop because your arms are tired? Or you're a little sore?”
He has a point.
You take half a step back as he invades your space, leaning down close to you. “If they're out for blood, they won't even stop even as you're bleeding out in front of them.” His eyes are dark, biting into you, speaking volumes of his knowledge and experience. You wonder how many times he's been in that situation, how many times he's had to fight quite literally for his life. He steps away from you, moving towards the center of the mat. “Come on. I'll teach you some combinations.”
You don't want to follow him. You want to curl up in a corner and nap for the next four hours. You don't doubt he'll find a way to force you, though, so you move to the center of the mat with a sigh.
He teaches you different combinations, working through them over and over. You're sloppy, mixing up which punch is which, which move means what. It only gets worse as you get more and more tired, but Ghost is relentless.
Finally after almost an hour and a half of training, he calls it. Your legs are shaking and you can barely lift your arms to unravel the wraps from around your hands. You sink onto the floor, laying out flat on the padding as you try to catch your breath.
“Come on.” Ghost says, lacing up his shoes. “You'll have time to shower before breakfast if we get back now.”
“Wait. Just gimme a minute.” You breathe, not even sure you have the willpower to get up from the floor, much less the muscle power.
He lets out a sigh before approaching you, bending down to slip his hands under your arms. “On your feet, soldier.”
He lifts you easily, far too easily. Your legs shake, nearly giving out as you're forced onto them. You pout, ignoring the ache in your bones as you're forced upright.
“‘M not a soldier.” You murmur.
“In here with me, you are. You want to learn to fight, you get treated just like everyone else I've taught.” He says, glowering down at you. “Now get your shoes on and let's go.”
Your brows pull into a frown, but you do as he says, slipping your shoes back on and your jacket. You had hoped perhaps he would have a little mercy, given your status and inexperience, but it seems you're not even being awarded that. You know part of it is his revenge for you invading his protective circle around Soap, for kissing Soap in front of him.
The frown doesn't leave your face as you follow him back to the barracks, having to almost run to keep up with him.
“You look tired.”
“I am. I had training with Ghost again this morning.”
“How is that going?”
“It's hard.” You admit, sinking back in your chair. “He's hard on me. He sees me as a soldier, not an omega.”
“Have you brought this up to him?” Dr. Keller asks, crossing her feet as she relaxes on the couch across from you.
You nod. “Yeah. He said I have to push through it, because if I wind up in a real fight, they won't go easy on me.”
“Well, I can’t say he’s wrong about that. But, that’s still no excuse.” Dr. Keller tilts her head at you. “You could bring it up to Captain Price. He is your pack alpha, and he’s also Lieutenant Riley’s. I don’t doubt he’d bring it up to him on your behalf.”
He would, but you don’t really want to stir the pot in that way. The last thing you need to do is become a tattle-tail. It’s quiet between you for a few moments, Dr. Keller shuffling her papers as you mark a clear end to that conversation.
“How did you do on your assignment? I see you’re wearing a different sweatshirt this morning.” She says, eyeing you.
You’re wearing Price’s sweatshirt, the one he gifted you. You’ve been wearing it almost every day, his scent still clinging to the fabric. Your face warms as she stares at you, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, but...I didn’t ask for this one. Price gave it to me after I told him about where my other one came from. I uh...I kissed Soap. And Gaz.”
“Oh?” Her brows raise, and she writes something down on the paper. Your face warms even more as you watch her pen move with every letter. You can only imagine what she’s putting down. “Is that something you wanted? I know we talked briefly about it last time.” She says.
You nod. “Yes. I did want it. I...I also...kneeled...with Price...Did a couple times actually...”
Dr. Keller’s mouth opens in surprise, her eyes shining as she looks at you. “You did? That’s huge! That’s an incredible development! Did you initiate, or did he?”
“I did.” You say bashfully, sinking back further into the chair. “Both times.”
Dr. Keller smiles at you, looking almost proud. “This is a big step in the right direction. How did it go? Were you able to relax?”
You nod. “Yeah. It was nice. He was...gentle. He did it right.”
“Good. How did you do coming down from it? I know it can be intense and difficult for some omegas.” She asks.
You shrug. “Fine. I felt it a bit the morning after, but it wasn’t too bad. I fell asleep on him both times.”
“Oh?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Did you stay with him?”
You shake your head. “No, Gaz took me to my room both times.”
“Good. That’s good practice, for when your heat comes. Shows how much trust they have in each other.”
You hadn’t really thought of that. There was a lot of trust involved in omega’s heats. Omegas have to trust their alphas to take care of them while they’re blind with insatiable need, but both alpha and omega have to trust a beta to keep them alive. Your heat will trigger Price’s rut and make him lose control for a while, and it will be up to Gaz to keep you both fed and hydrated. He’ll be the one to help you both afterwards as well.
“Have you started nesting yet?” Dr. Keller asks.
You shake your head. “No. Don’t feel any drive to either.”
Dr. Keller hums as she writes something down. “Well, it has only been two weeks. Though, perhaps if you can manage to ask for some things to make your space more comfortable, that might help ease you into it.”
You chew on your lip, tugging at the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You know she’s right. Until you’re comfortable and feel safe enough, you won’t feel the drive to nest. You’ll need to nest before your heat arrives. Otherwise, it’ll cause issues for both you and Price.
“When...when should I be worried?” You ask.
“Hmm...” Dr. Keller looks at her calendar. “If you’re not feeling any sort of drive to nest by our next appointment, then I’d say we may need to consider using some exercises to help jump start it.”
“Exercises?” You ask warily.
“All easy things.” She reassures you. “Things like scent introductions, tactile explorations, and some bonding exercises might be helpful as well.” She writes something down on a sticky note. “I’ll explain everything in detail and you’ll get to choose whether you want to do any of it or not. No one’s going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, alright?”
Tears prick your eyes at her words, and you furiously blink them back. It’s a little late for that kind of sentiment. Your presence here alone was thanks to a long line of people forcing you to do things you’re not comfortable with. It was easy to get lost in the excitement and the emotions of bonding with a pack, easy to forget that you would never have chosen this place had you ever been given the option to choose.
You would have gone far from the military, far from this kind of life. It’s your duty to bond with an alpha, but what if you don’t want to? What if it’s all a front, and as soon as you’re claimed the curtains rise and suddenly everything is different? What if Price isn’t as kind as you’ve come to believe him? Just one squeeze too tightly around the back of your neck while you’re kneeling and everything would change.
How easily he could take everything from you.
“You want to talk about what’s going on in your head right now?” Dr. Keller asks, breaking the silence between you two.
You hadn’t even noticed you’d been staring off into space, lost in your thoughts. Of course she knows something’s changed. She’s spent years learning the ins and outs of omegas and all the secrets you can only imagine. She’s probably just as in tune with subtle changes as the four well trained soldiers that make up your new pack. Maybe even more in tune with them.
You shake your head, keeping your gaze on the floor.
“Remember nothing shared in this room leaves this room. It’ll always only be between us.” She says softly.
You’re panicking. You can feel the pressure rising within you. You’re like a grenade and someone is about to pull the pin. You’re afraid you’ll spill everything to her, afraid you’ll let out things you’ve successfully kept buried for years and years. Things you’ve left behind, things you’ve had to move on from. Things you can’t afford to let out now.
“I’d like to be done now.” You silently curse the way your voice shakes.
Dr. Keller’s brows pull into a frown but she nods. “Okay.” She slips her papers into her notebook before standing. “Let me grab my keys.”
You stand as she moves to her desk, grabbing her keys from the drawer. She leads you from her office, thankfully staying quiet as you walk through the rain towards the barracks. You’re still panicking, the turmoil inside you probably projecting the sour scent across the entire courtyard but you don’t care. You can’t.
“Remember, if you ever need anything, I’m usually in my office.” Dr. Keller says as she drops you off at the door.
You feel guilty as you hurry to your room, shoes squeaking on the tile. You feel bad for cutting the appointment off early, you feel bad for feeling the way you do. Later you’ll be grateful for Dr. Keller respecting your boundaries and not pushing, for following through with her promise and letting you be in control of the appointment.
Right now you don’t care. Right now you can’t care. You’re too lost in your turmoil, the bitter scent of your distress seeping out from under the locked door.
“...can ye talk tae me, hen? Let me know yer alright?”
The soft voice coming through the closed door pulls you out from your burrow under the thin blanket. You blink blearily at your phone, trying to see the time. It’s just a little past the normal time you go to lunch with them. How long have they been knocking on the door?
“Come on, lass.” Soap’s voice comes through the door again. “I dinnae want tae have tae kick in the door.”
You force yourself out from under the blanket, pocketing your phone before quickly moving to your door. You throw it open, Soap’s eyes immediately scanning you as you rub tiredly at your eyes. You don’t doubt he’d kick in your door if he felt he had to.
“Sorry,” You yawn. “I was asleep.”
His eyebrows raise as he stares down at you. “Ye were asleep? Ye weren’t kidding about bein’ a heavy sleeper.” He leads you from the barracks, crossing the courtyard towards the mess.
“One time, when I was about two or three, my dad took us to some demonstration on base.” You say as you begin walking to the mess with him. “I fell asleep about halfway through and slept through a howitzer going off.”
Soap lets out a laugh so loud it echoes in the courtyard. “Ye slept through a howitzer?”
You nod. “Yup. My dad never let me live it down. I heard it all the time. ‘You’ll have to try hard to wake her, she slept through a howitzer once.’”
Soap chuckles, leading you into the mess. “Ye are a deep sleeper.”
You shrug. “I did say so. My phone will wake me up though. Alarms, calls.”
“I’ll keep tha’ in mind.” He says as he guides you through the line, making your tray for you.
You sit between Price and Gaz as usual, feeling a bit on edge still despite your nap after your appointment. You hadn’t gotten to sleep for very long, not nearly long enough to clear your head completely. You know they can tell, Gaz slowly shifting closer and closer to you, Price’s gaze flickering to you out of the corner of his eye every so often. Even Ghost’s eyes pass over you every so often as they sweep across the mess.
You wonder if he feels responsible.
You hope he does.
Soap walks you back to the barracks after lunch and you spend the afternoon burrowed under your blanket again. You’re exhausted and sore after a long morning of training and your appointment. You wish you could sink back into sleep, let the emotions pass without you having to feel them, but you’re too awake now. Too aware of them as they prickle in the back of your mind.
Dinner passes without incident, but you can’t ignore the feelings still stirring within you. You feel agitated and on edge, not even pacing your room helping you. You let out a breath before you put your slippers on, slipping out of your door. You make your way down the hallway, turning right instead of left like you would if you were heading for the rec room. The door is cracked open and you pause just before you reach it, suddenly feeling nervous. You shouldn’t really. There was no reason to be nervous, yet you can’t help the urge in the back of your mind to turn tail and race back down the hallway to the safety of your room.
“You can come in, unless you’d prefer standing in the hallway all evening.” A voice calls from inside the office.
Your face warms a bit at getting caught, but he could probably hear you coming down the hallway. He could probably smell you too.
You push open the door, slipping inside before closing it behind you. Price stares at you from his desk as you stand there, shifting nervously on your feet. You feel agitated, on edge still. You’re worked up, and you don’t quite know why.
“Everything alright?” Price asks, likely picking up on your nervous energy.
Yes. You want to say, but then you’d have to come up with a reason as to why you sought him out, why you feel so worked up. You could just kneel for him. It’s what you should do, let yourself be eased into a peaceful state of mind. Let him take care of you.
“I don’t know.”
The words are hardly more than a whisper, your voice trembling just as much as you are. Your chest feels tight, your breaths becoming shallow. You're not sure when he got up, when he even moved. His scent wraps around you, warmth encompassing your being as your face is pushed against his chest.
“I need you to breathe for me.” Price says, pressing your ear against his chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart, the air flowing in and out of his lungs.
You close your eyes, trying to match your breaths to his. It's hard, your body fighting your attempt to regulate it. You close your eyes, focusing on the soft fabric of Price's shirt against your cheek, the warmth of his hand on your head as he keeps you pinned against his chest. It's not constricting or suffocating. It's grounding, keeping you from drowning in your own thoughts.
He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to as he holds you there, letting you calm down. You begin to slowly relax, your arms wrapping around his waist, fingers gripping the back of his shirt.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” He murmurs, lips brushing the top of your head.
“I don’t know.” You whisper, still clinging to his shirt. “I’m just...I feel off. Ghost was being hard on me this morning and then I got upset during my appointment and I’ve just felt on edge all day and I can’t relax because I can’t get comfortable!”
Price tightens his grip around you just slightly. “What do you mean?”
You huff out a breath, squeezing your eyes closed so the tears don’t escape as the words leave you in a flood before you can stop them. “The blankets aren’t soft enough and the pillows are too thin and it’s too dark and I’m tired of smelling like bland soap!”
Price hums quietly, squeezing you gently as a tear slides down your cheek. “Then we should do something to fix that.”
“But I shouldn’t need it!” You cry, trying to push away from him, but he keeps you tight against his chest. “I’m supposed to be a good omega and adapt and learn to be comfortable where I am.”
“That might be what you were taught,” He says, letting you push away from his chest, but he wraps his hands around your arms, keeping you in front of him. “But things don’t have to be that way. We should have taken care of something like this sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t even think of it. You shouldn’t have had to ask for it.”
You blink up at him, genuinely surprised by his words. “I...what?”
“We all have our own little comforts that we keep. Soap sleeps with a stuffed bear. Don’t tell him I told you that.”
A small smile tugs at your lips at the mental image of Soap snuggling up with a teddy bear.
“You deserve some comfort too.” He says, squeezing your arms.
“But, it’s not...regulation.” You say.
“Doesn’t have to be.” He says. “You’re not a soldier. Even then, the only ones going in there are us. The only thing I can’t approve of is painting the walls. Unfortunately the prison grey has to stay.”
You can’t help but laugh, wiping the tear from your cheek. “I suppose that’s alright. Just...as long as it’s not as dark and maybe a soft blanket or something. That’s really all I need.”
He hums, staring down at you. You can’t quite figure out the look on his face, something shining in his eyes. “We’ll get it figured out.” He says, squeezing your arms again.
“Get some shoes on. We’re going on a trip.”
You look up from your book, staring at Price as he stands in the rec room. He’s dressed in civilian clothes, arms crossed as he stares down at you on the couch. You mark your place in your book, pushing yourself up to sit. It’s a Saturday afternoon, and unlike last week they had the day off, which means you do as well.
“Are you going to make me hike through the woods for two hours again, sir?” You ask, pushing yourself up to stand.
“No. We’re going into town.” He says.
You blink at him. You haven’t been off base since you arrived, and you figured you probably wouldn’t be getting that opportunity any time soon. “Can I ask why, sir?”
“We’ve got some shopping to do.” He says simply, turning and leaving the rec room.
You stand there shocked for a moment before you’re following after him, slipping into your room to put comfortable shoes on and grab your phone and a jacket. You don’t even have a wallet to carry around to make yourself feel better.
Price is waiting by the door for you, a car parked outside. You’re slow to approach him, suddenly feeling a mix of emotions. He’s doing this for you. He’d really taken your conversation last night to heart and now he’s going to go spend money on you that he doesn’t need to.
“What’s that look for sweetheart?” He asks, standing in front of the door.
“You don’t have to do this.” You say, staring up at him. He seems so tall like this, so...imposing.
“Course I do.” He says, his gaze softening just slightly. “Should have done it sooner. You deserve to be comfortable too.” He says, turning to open the door.
You follow him out, climbing into the car when he opens the door for you. He gets in the driver’s seat, the car rumbling to life. He drives to the front gate, passing off two ID cards to the guards. He passes one to you when the guard hands them back, the gate in front of you opening.
“That’s your ID card. Gets you on and off base.” He explains as he drives away from the gate. “I doubt you’ll be leaving on your own, but just in case.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say, slipping the card under your phone case for the time being.
He glances at you, a small smile on his lips. “You can call me John, if you'd like. You don't need to be formal when we're in private.”
“Yes, sir.” You make a face, biting your lip at your automatic response. “Sorry. Old habits.”
“From the institute?” He asks.
You shake your head. “My dad, actually. He was a firm believer in respecting authority figures. All ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ by the time we were old enough to know the difference.”
“Sounds like my father.” He says, staring out at the road ahead. “Old grizzled military man.”
“Do you still have contact with him?” You ask curiously. You don’t know much of anything about their families, their backgrounds.
“Not really. Beyond holidays, neither of us really make an effort to talk to the other. After mum passed, there wasn’t much to talk about.” He says.
“She was the glue.” You say, watching the trees pass by the car.
“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “As betas usually are.”
“Do you have any siblings?” You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. You know next to nothing about them, while they likely know your entire life story.
“No,” He shakes his head. “Just me. You have a lot of siblings.”
You nod. “Seven at the time I left for the institute. Could be more now.”
“They never tried to keep contact with you?” He asks.
“Nope.” You turn to look out the window. “The institute didn’t really encourage it either, because we were being prepared to join new packs. That’s hard to do when you still have bonds with your old ones. I think they might have forcibly ended some. I know there were some omegas that tried to keep contact, but it became less and less until eventually it just stopped.”
Price’s hands tighten around the steering wheel just slightly. You wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention. Silence settles in the car as he drives, farmlands passing until the houses start getting closer and closer together. You stare at the buildings as he drives through town, a blend of historical and modern.
“It’s beautiful here.” You say, watching people and cars pass by.
“I suppose so.” He says, glancing at you. “I grew up in this area.”
You turn to look at him. “You did? I didn’t know that. Then again, I don’t know much about any of you.”
“You can ask us, you know.” He says. “We don’t have to be that secretive with you. At least not about ourselves.”
He pulls into a parking lot, opening your door for you and helping you out of the car. You slip your hand into his, holding it as you cross the parking lot. You stare up at the store. ASDA. You’ve never heard of it before, though you suppose the stores would be different here too.
Price drops your hand to grab a cart, the store bustling with people. You hang onto the edge of the cart, staying close to Price’s side. “We’re here for you.” He says, guiding you through the aisles. “Get whatever you want.”
He’s led you to the homegoods section, your eyes widening at the entire aisle of blankets and bedding in front of you. You try to take it all in, but you feel a bit overwhelmed. There’s so many choices, so many options.
“Pick out as many as you want. Don’t worry about the price.” He says, before you can protest. “We get paid decently, but don’t have many chances to use it. Let me do this for you.”
You stare up into his eyes, the sincerity in them, before you nod, turning back to the wall of blankets before you. You study them, running your hand along them to find the softest ones, doing as he says and ignoring the price tags. You settle on a couple soft ones, grabbing a throw blanket as well that you can pack around to the rec room if you want to. He takes you to the pillow aisle, and you settle on a pair of fluffy pillows, as well as a couple decorative ones as well.
“Here.” He slips a big plush strawberry into your arms before you leave the aisle, your cheeks warming as you look at it. “Makes me think of you.”
You preen at his words, holding onto the strawberry as you make for the lamps and nightlights, settling on a cat shaped one that will sit on your desk and changes colors. You pick up a few other items before heading for the toiletries, finally setting the strawberry in the cart as you zero in on the soaps and body washes. You smell all the strawberry scented ones, trying to find the perfect one.
“Why strawberry?” Price asks as you put a strawberries and cream scented body wash in the cart.
“Compliments my scent.” You explain as he leads you to the shampoo and conditioner. “We had a scent specialist come to the institute one time as an activity. We all figured out what our scents smell like and what notes compliment them the best.”
An arm wraps around your waist before you can look at the shampoo, pulling you back against a broad chest. Price’s nose presses into your neck and he inhales deeply. He lets out a content hum, his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your neck. “I think you’re right.”
Your face burns hot as he presses a gentle kiss against the side of your neck before releasing you. You stand there for a moment, trying to calm the heat rushing through your body and focus on the shampoo. You hear him chuckle as you shuffle forward, your face still burning as you smell the shampoo bottles.
You settle on one, holding onto Price’s arm as you continue around the store, picking up a few other items and a couple for himself as well before heading to the checkout.
You hold on to Price’s arm as you leave the store, sticking close to him as he loads the bags into the trunk. You can feel the slight tension in his body, the way his eyes scan the parking lot every few seconds. You can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must be for him to relax, especially out in public. How fast his mind has to be running, how alert he is to everyone and everything. A threat could come out of nowhere, could come from anyone.
It must be exhausting.
“Hungry, sweetheart?” He asks as he buckles his seatbelt.
“Always.” You answer, leaning on the center console.
He smiles. “What are you in the mood for?”
You blink at him. Most of the restaurants you know probably don’t exist in England. “Fish and chips?” You offer, pulling up the one British food you’re confident in naming.
“Fish and chips it is.” He says, turning on the car.
“I have yet to have real fish and chips.” You say, settling into the passenger seat.
“Well, I know the perfect place.” He says, pulling out of the parking lot.
You don’t have to go far before he’s parking on the street and helping you out of the car. His hand settles on your lower back, guiding you down the street to a fish and chips shop.
It's too early for the dinner rush, the shop mostly empty and quiet. Price orders for you before guiding you to a table, and you let him sit facing the door and front window. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. They seem so relaxed on base, though you suppose that's the place they feel the most comfortable. You can't even imagine the kinds of things they've seen, the horrors they've been subjected to.
You don't want to think about the things they've done.
Your eyes snap downwards as Price's hand slides across the table, closing around yours. You don't want to think about the things he's done with those hands. The lives he's taken, the people he's tortured. Will he ever turn those hands on you?
They've given you no reason to fear them yet. They've all been kind, polite. Even Ghost hasn't truly given you a reason to fear him, despite his obvious disapproval and hard exterior.
You know nothing about them.
You've known them for just over two weeks. You can't possibly have any understanding of who they are, how they express their emotions. What if they get upset? What happens when they get angry? What if you anger them?
“I know this hasn’t been easy for you. Any of it.” Price says, drawing you from your worried thoughts. “I know you were taught to expect this, perhaps not this exact situation, but something like this. Being sent off to some strange alpha to join their pack, bonding with complete strangers. None of us were expecting this either. It’s been an adjustment in a lot of ways, but I want you to know that we’ll take care of you. You need anything, you tell us. You want anything, we’ll do our best to make it happen. We’ll keep you safe.” He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I promise you that.”
You want to believe him. You really do. They haven’t given you any reason to not believe it.
It’s only been two weeks.
You continue to talk with him as you eat, making light conversation, getting to know him a bit more. Despite the trickling uncertainty in the back of your mind, it feels good. It feels like a date, something you had dreamed of before you presented, something you had imagined happening when you finally got old enough to start looking for potential mates and packs.
Of course, back then, you had thought you’d be an alpha.
It had been expected of you.
Price has his arm wrapped around you as you walk back to the car, his hand on your hip. It’s possessive almost, and it makes your stomach flutter. Price is the only one you haven’t kissed yet, well, besides Ghost, but you’re certain you’d wind up through a wall if you even thought of trying. It’s almost ironic that Price would be the last, considering he’s going to be the one claiming you, the one you spend your heat with.
You stare out the window as the buildings fade into farmlands again. The sun is setting, painting the world in oranges and reds. You still feel a bit warm from Price’s possessive hold on you, his teasing in the store. You can still feel the tickle of his beard on your skin, his lips pressing against your neck.
You jump when rough fingers trail down your arm, pulling it from where it had been resting in your lap.
“You were right.” Price says as he lifts your hand to his face, pressing his nose against your wrist and inhaling for a moment. “Strawberries are the strongest note in your scent.” He lowers your hand again, lacing your fingers together. “What’s got you all worked up over there.”
You stare at him, your face getting warm again. Of course he can smell it. You can smell the muskiness beginning to form around the edges of his scent. Desire. “You haven’t kissed me yet.” You say, moving his hand into your lap. “You're the only one that hasn't...well, besides Ghost.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh. “You sound disappointed.”
You untangle your fingers with his, letting his hand rest on your thigh. “What if I am?”
His fingers flex against your leg, the muskiness of his scent strengthening. “Then maybe we should fix that.”
The cocktail of scents in the car is intoxicating, and you feel bad for the poor beta soldier at the gate when Price rolls down the window to hand off your IDs.
Price is out of the car as soon as it's parked, moving around to your side to open the door. He pins you against the side of the car as soon as you're out, caging you in with his arms.
You stare up at him, head swimming with the musk laced in his scent. You can see his eyes shining in the light next to the door of the barracks. He looks like a hungry wolf, the back of your neck prickling with excitement.
He leans down, breath fanning your face as he gets closer and closer to you. You press yourself against him, hands gripping his shoulders as he presses his lips to yours. His lips are surprisingly soft, his beard tickling your face. He growls quietly against your lips, pushing you harder against the side of the car.
You let out a quiet sound in response, hands gripping his jacket. His hands slide from the car to your sides, sliding down to grip your hips. You can feel the muscle hidden beneath his jacket and shirt, the strength that he possesses. He may not be purebred like Ghost, but he’s still every inch an alpha.
You let out another quiet sound as he pulls away, pressing a caste kiss to the corner of your lips. “Bloody hell, now I know what those boys were on about.” He breathes, leaning his forehead against yours.
“They were talking about me?” You ask, pulling back slightly.
“Only good things.” Price grins, leaning down to kiss you again. “Sweet as sugar.” He breathes, kissing you again. “And just as addicting.” He pulls away from you, his hands resting on your waist. “We should get your stuff inside so you can get it all set up. Want me to fetch one of the boys to help?”
You bite your lip. “Or you could just do it.”
He stares down at you, something flashing across his face but you can’t quite make it out in the low light. “You’re sure?” His voice is quiet, taking on that soft tone it often does when he speaks to you.
“You’ll have to eventually.” You shrug. “Might as well start now.”
He leans down, kissing you again before pulling away, opening up the trunk. He grabs most of the bags, only leaving the pillows for you to grab before he leads the way into the barracks. You open your door, stepping in first before he follows. You dump your pillows on the bed, and he sets the rest of the bags on your desk.
“Blankets in the wash.” You say, digging them out of the bags, pulling the tags off.
“I’ll take them.” He says, fishing out his stuff from the bags before taking the blankets from you.
You switch out your pillows for the softer ones, organizing the decorative ones just the way you want. You squish the strawberry to your chest again, a smile forming on your face before you flop back onto the bed, sinking into the soft pillows. It’s almost perfect, you think.
“Comfortable?” Price’s voice rumbles in the doorway, a smile on his face as he stares at you.
“Much better.” You say, sitting up and placing the strawberry in its place.
The two of you finish taking everything out of the bags, decorating the rest of your room. The posters on the walls, and the nightlight on your desk. It feels far more homey already, and you know you’re going to sleep well tonight once the blankets are out of the wash.
“Thank you.” You say, looking up at Price. “This really means a lot.”
“All in a day’s work, love.” He says, pulling you into his arms again.
You lean against his chest, resting your head over his heart, listening to it beat steadily against your ear.
You wake up suddenly, yet you’re not quite sure why. There’s no one in your room, your new nightlight easily showing you that. Your mouth is dry, but there’s a line of wetness down your chin. You reach across your nightstand, your phone illuminating the time.
Just past one a.m.
You smack your lips, feeling thirsty after the excitement of the day. You’d forgotten to grab water when you left the rec room and you huff out a sigh. You don’t want to get up, but now that you’re aware you’re thirsty, there’s no stopping those thoughts.
You don’t even bother with slippers as you pad to the door, opening it up. You leave it cracked as you sleepily shuffle towards the rec room, the barracks almost dead quiet this late. You grab a bottle from the fridge, unscrewing the top before drinking a few gulps. It’s cold and tastes divine, soothing the dryness of your mouth. You screw the top back on, closing the fridge before heading back towards your room.
You turn the corner, still half asleep, nearly yelping as you slam into a chest. You stumble back a couple steps, staring up at the covered face looming over you. You gulp, holding the bottle to your chest.
“S-Sorry.” You stutter.
“You’re out of bed.” He says quietly, voice rumbling in the silence.
“Thirsty.” It’s all you can manage as you hold up the bottle.
He stares at you for a long moment, eyes flickering all over your face. His chest is heaving, almost as if he had been running before you ran into him. His hands are closed into fists at his sides, knuckles almost white with how tense he is. You think for a moment he might be mad, but you can’t catch any whiff of ozone in the air. Your nose prickles at the scent, but it’s not anger.
Your tired brain can’t make sense of it, yearning to sink back into the softness of your bed again. You slowly shuffle around him, taking cautious steps, waiting for him to reach out and stop you, but he doesn’t. He simply watches you go, standing there in the hallway as you slip back into your room, not moving until he hears the click of your lock slipping into place.
NEXT ->
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#x reader#john price x reader#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#poly 141#task force 141 x reader#omegaverse#a/b/o#alpha/beta/omega dynamics
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TOUCHY M.S.
Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader
Summary: in which Matt is extremely touchy.
A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)
It's not an unknown fact that your boyfriend Matt's love language is physical touch. Any chance he can touch you in any way, he will find a way. Whether it be holding your hand as far as him or even putting his hand in the back pocket of your pants.
Fortunately for me today was one of those days that his physical touch need was on a max requirement, the only problem is we have a fully busy day.
"Matt come on we have to get up we are filming today"
"nooo just five more mintues"
he states bringing your body closer to his in his warm bed
"matt i gave you like 10"
you huff out, trying to wiggle out of his tight grip around you. Eventually, succeeding which resulted in a groan from your boyfriend admitting his defeat.
"come on move your butt"
you state playfully ruffling his messy brown hair, and heading into his bathroom to get ready for the day.
You finally got out of the shower, walking back out to the main room to you and Matt's shared closet, trying to decide ultimately what you wanted to wear for the rest of the day. In doing so, your back was turned to the bed not realizing that your boyfriend, with his clingy self, making his way to your figure only covered in a towel.
Matt finally reaches you standing in the closet, proceeding to grip your hips suddenly, yanking you backward and colliding with his crotch and chest.
"MATTT I DONT HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON YET"
you squeal giggling. As he wraps both of his toned tattooed arms around your chest, squeezing your breasts, as you place your hands on top of his arms around you, nuzzling his head in your neck.
"You dont need them for what we are about to do"
he states smugly as he leaves kisses on your neck, as you giggle in the process through the fact his kisses tickle your skin slightly.
"Mattheww, you are going to get us in trouble"
you exclaim leaning your head back against his shoulder.
"So.."
he trails off as you turn around in his arms, staring seriously into your boyfriend's blue orbs.
"So, we have to leave in 20 minutes to get to our meeting with Laura"
you state as your boyfriend gives you a unphased look.
"so get in the shower"
"Are you lovebirds ready yet we are going to be late, LET"S GO"
We all finally managed to get to our meeting with Laura and during the meeting, Matt couldn't keep his hands off of you still. Whether it be gripping your leg under the conference table or even slightly touching your shoulder as he reaches to grab something on the table.
Once our meeting was over, we headed to Target to refill our groceries in the house.
"Chris do we really need that much Pepsi"
he exclaims already ready to go home after a long day, wanting to just finally have his girlfriend close to him.
"yes what kind of stupid fucking question is that"
Chris argues with his brother.
"Chris just put them in the cart please"
you state simply trying to avoid an altercation. Heading out of the aisle with the triplets following behind.
After a little while you wandered off with Matt into the makeup aisle of Target. Matt bored out of his mind lets out a deep sigh, gaining your attention.
"you okay"
you simply state still focused on finding the products you were out of at home. As your boyfriend makes his way closer to you, slipping his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, slightly gripping your ass through them.
"how much longer till we go home"
"almost done my love then you can have my full attention"
you state as he sighs patting your ass lovingly, and proceeding to go look for Nick and Chris.
You guys finally get back home, you and Matt wandering back into your shared room in the house.
"Oh my hi"
you exclaim quietly as Matt lifts you off of the ground kissing your supple lips as you place your hands on the sides of his face, deepening the kiss.
" hi.. i missed you"
matt says finally breaking the kiss.
"i was with you all day baby what do you mean"
you giggle out, caressing his cheeks in your hand looking in his blue orbs filled with love.
"yeah but i just wanted to be close to you"
he states simply giving your lips another quick sweet kiss as you giggle into his lips.
"just touchy today hm"
you state back, finally wrapping your arms around his neck tightly as he hugs your waist in the same position you were currently in.
A/N: leave requests in my inbox if you want a specific type of story 💗
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#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo#chris x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#cute#matt sturniolo imagine#sturniolo#matthew sturniolo
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ᡣ𐭩 。ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა
PICTURE YOU ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
♩chappell roan — picture you ♩
pairing: pervy pope, jj, john b x reader
cw: sexual fantasies, the pogues being peeping toms, masturbation.
you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day five. better late than never!
pope knew was he was doing was wrong. you were his neighbour for christs sake.
at the end of the day, he was but a man— and whilst he had no intention of stooping to full pervert level like this, he had slipped up and bragged to the wrong people, AKA — jj maybank, about how his fine ass neighbour had a certain… routine, every friday night… and would leave her bedroom blinds open for it.
the regret fully kicked in when he opened his front door, seeing the excited expression on his two best friends faces.
“no. i shouldn’t have told you.” is how pope greets them.
“dude it’s fine,” jj reiterates, easily moving past him in the entrance to his house with a clap on the shoulder, an only slightly less enthused john b following closely behind with an awkward but willing smile. “we’re not gonna watch. we’re just gonna… like — happen to glance out the window. while she’s flickin’ the bean.”
“thats — that doesn’t make it any more okay.” pope stresses, following his friends up to his bedroom.
“look, she leaves her blinds open right? isn’t that what you said? have you maybe considered that… possibly, and hear me out on this… she wants to be watched?” john b, usually the voice of reason finds it in himself to convince pope just that little more, wide puppy-like eyes doing most of the convincing. he’s probably the only reason pope hasn’t grabbed them both by the scruff of the neck and hauled them out.
the night goes on, and honestly — the perverted plan is nearly forgotten about until their attention is brought to the window just across from popes, the lamp switching on as you arrived home from work. john b swivels on popes desk chair, nodding his head toward the sight with a whistle.
“oop, shows starting.”
“honey, i’m home.” jj sings out in a high pitched voice, excited for what’s to come.
“you’re so much better than this, john b.” pope deadpans, double taking at jj as he switches off the lights to the bedroom sending them all into darkness. “what the hell?”
“do you wanna get caught creepin’ on your neighbour? no? didn’t think so.”
“you done this before jayj?” there’s a lilt of teasing to the brunettes voice as his blonde counterpart grabs a seat and drags it up beside him, the young adults gathered as they watch your figure dart around the room going about your nightly activities.
“shh.”
the boys curse, ducking down slightly when you suddenly appear at your window, fingers grazing the blinds. they stay deadly still in the dark, barely even breathing as to not draw attention to the fact they’re gathered round to watch you. you look pensive, hesitant, like you’re about to draw the blinds and shut the world out and yet… you don’t. you back away, leaving them open.
“huh.” pope breathes, glancing at his wavy haired friend.
“likes an audience. interesting.” routledge hums, voice deep and breathy.
you begin to undress, and they swear the air in the room gets thicker. peeling your leggings down your legs like they’d been painted onto you for the day creates an audible reaction from your neighbour and his friends, jj even going as far as to stick his knuckle in his mouth.
“god damn.” he garbles, earning a hum of agreement.
“oh you really lucked out here pope. the only neighbour i ever had was a 70 year old woman. trust me when she left her blinds open you look the other way.” john b doesn’t remove his eyes from the scene as he recounts the anecdote, causing pope to screw up his face.
the truth was, pope did have his own fantasies and perversions. he told himself time and time again, he wasn’t watching. he was at his desk first, you left your blinds open. visions of you at the library you worked at, helping him with research in that little mini skirt he saw you wear once. bending over to rummage shelves, sweet fat crescent of your pussy on display through your panties. pope would have no choice but to take you right there on the table behind the bookshelves, the two of you trying to stay quiet as he disappears between your thighs, seeking out that sweet nectar…
when he snaps out of it, you’re already on the bed, in perfect eyeshot of the window. just you, that dim lamp that made your skin seem to glow, an oversized tshirt and some panties.
“you guys don’t feel wrong doing this?” pope speaks in a hushed voice like you might be able to hear.
“how could something so right be so wrong, my friend?” jj pulls out a joint to stick into his mouth, only to have it plucked from his lips and tossed aside by the heyward boy.
“i’m drawing a line.”
“alright, that’s fair.”
“you guys are missing it.” john b hums, entranced by the way you palm at your tits through the top, eyes fluttering shut as your body starts to relax into the bed. “putting on a show for us.”
silence falls upon them finally as they stare, your hands trailing down to lift the hem of your shirt up and over your breasts, massaging the fat and plucking at the nipples.
“oh wow.” pope breathes, jj breaking out into a grin.
“this is some american pie shit right here.”
“grow up.”
“i’m just saying.”
it seems like forever before your hands reach down to your panties, fingers gingerly dusting over the thin fabric of what appears to be baby blue panties with a pink bow at the top centre. jj even swears he can see the gloss of your arousal on your open thighs from where he’s sat. you begin to rub yourself through the material, teasingly and you pull your bottom lip beneath your teeth, sucking in a breath.
“th’atta girl.” john b murmurs, and the air in the room suddenly feels too hot, too stifling. it wasn’t this hot five minutes ago.
“its like i… can’t look away.” pope justifies in just above a whisper, finally perching down to a more comfortable view, watching the way your head tosses side to side, back arching just that little bit as you try and find a better angle. patience leaves you, and you’re pulling the panties off all together.
“would you look at that.” jj marvels, before glancing at his two friends. “y’all mind if i jerk off real quick?”
“what?” pope screws up his face, and john b glances at him.
“yeah, uh. i mind.”
“it can’t wait?” pope adds, shaking his head and jj throws up his hands.
“i thought that’s what we were doing’ here alright my bad!” he dodges john b’s disapproving swat, eyes wide. “oh that’s where you draw the line? y’all are not real freaks.”
“no.” john b shakes his head, pope chiming in with a “thank god.”
but as their attention lands on you once more, your fingers sinking into that glossy hole — they begin to really reconsider their choice.
#jj maybank prompt#john b prompt#pope heyward prompt#thought we could use something light hearted on the blog#kinktober 24 ≽^• ⩊ •^≼ ₊˚⊹♡
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when the two hour journey back from a failed mission had all five of you on edge, especially with you as the driver 🤭
price usually was the one to drive but he'd been caught in a bomb that had been too close, catching the shrapnel in his thigh and arm preventing him from using it too much. luckily he'd been fine, gaz and ghost safely removed the debris and bandaged him up. but now it meant that you were the next designated driver, not trusting gaz/soap especially simon to make it to the barracks safely. and poor price was all too stressed, brows furrowed as he rubbed the back his neck slightly in dire need of his bed and a drink
so it left him in the back seat with soap and gaz
soap who's absolutely restless and fuming and gaz who's brooding, eyes ticking when soap keeps squirming, "jesus just stay fuckin still for one fuckin sECOND!" "what tha FUCK did you just say??"
so now you have a brawl taking place and your hands are clenched so tightly around the wheel you're contemplating dumping them all on the side of the road and driving off
"enough! can you both just stop" you snap back lugging the empty gum container at them, it hitting the back of soap's head and bouncing off of gaz's forehead. cue another few grumbles as they finally separate, muttering curses and scowls
price decides to sit in the middle of them, to ease their tension and play mediator,"no more fighting lads. you're grown men. act like it" "i am! he's started it" "fuckin' boot licker"
unfortunately price's beautiful broad frame blocks the mirror and you need to see behind the car. so it leaves you back with the decision you hated
"gaz d'you mind sitting back in the middle?" "i do mind" "but-" "i. do. mind."
ego has absolutely crumbled 6 feet under from your comment, already on top of a failed mission it doesn't seem to be kyle's day at all. price sighs heavily, one minor inconvenience away from calling laswell and transferring to a new team as he grabs the back of gaz's top and pulls him back in the middle. soap is busy snickering away in his seat, thumping the back of his comrade's shoulder
"aye that's not so bad. plenty o'birds go fer tha small men" "yeah, you'd know from experience"
another fight breaks out and this time price steps in, snapping at them both. watching both seargents fall into their respectful seats after getting an earful from the captain with a matching glare
and ghost? oh, he's sitting all cute in the passenger seat like the little princess he is <3<3<3
that is, until he's suddenly become an expert driving instructor. telling you not to go too fast/watching out for the cars, "hey hey, watch out for the stop sign-" "coming from the same guy who almost crashed us in the heli several times??" "still got your arse from point a to b so what's the issue?"
and then soap has the bright idea to start pissing off the lieutenant, leaning forwards behind his seat as he starts sticking his fingers into ghost's ears
learns his lesson very promptly when said finger is grabbed and bent at an awkward angle threatening to break
it's silent for a moment as you drive, taking out a soft breath finally. it's then very quickly broken before ghost complains, moving in his seat annoyed
"you got any snacks? m'starvin" doesn't wait for an answer, already rifling through the glove compartment. pulls out a snickers bar brown eyes glinting, turning behind his seat to eat it and show off to the three in the back "oi you share some with me", "greedy bastard, give some over", "where did you get that??"
you have to stop at the convenience store to appease the rest of them
but at least the driver has full control of the aux and you play your own songs, a beautiful symphony of groans and complaints around you. but hey, it's nothing the music can't drown out
and finally it's quiet after an hour and half, turning around in your seat when you're in traffic. price is asleep, arms crossed over his chest, head leaning slightly with his bucket hat falling half off. kyle's head is on price's good thigh breathing softly as he remains relatively still eyes closed peacefully. soap is pressed into his back snoring softly, a very active sleeper you've learnt throughout your time being with the 141. and simon's head rests delicately on centre console, breathing gently as his balaclava is pushed up around his nose fast asleep.
with all four men finally knocked out you thank the universe, as you continue to drive a little gentle this time all the way back to base
not before taking a sneaky pic for memories, of course ♡
#cod 141#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon riley#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#john price x reader#kyle gaz x reader#gaz x reader#141 x reader#task force 141
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{overview} A doctor mistakes you for something you're not
{warning} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141, panicking, MDNI mentions of masturbation towards the end
Chapter 16 <- Chapter 17 -> Chapter 18
Priya was waiting for you when you got to the bottom floor the next day. When you woke up that morning the last thing you wanted to do was get out of bed. You had slept in Johnny’s bed, well not really slept. You drifted in and out waking up every half hour from some creak in the floor, or the sound of the refrigerator making ice. When the sun started to come up you finally felt comfortable to sleep- that was cut short by your alarm.
“I know it might not sound fun, but it is,” she smiled. It felt wrong going someplace without Anais. You pushed that thought away. Surely she does things with Jane and her other friends.
The walk was nice. The weather was starting to heat up for the start of summer. You were mostly excited to tease your pack with your summer dresses.
The thought sends a pang through your heart. God you missed them.
The rec room was nice and nearly empty. A few older doctors seemed to be taking their breaks in there, playing a round of ping pong. You and Priya settled on checkers.
You had grown bored after the third round, even though you had won two of them. Priya was still invested, making the game drag on for another five rounds. She won most of them.
“Hungry?” you asked, already standing up to push your chair in. Your lower half had grown numb, the tingling verging on painful as you began to walk around the room.
“There's a vending machine in the hall,” she stood as well. Luckily your pack had left you with some money.
“What are you thinking about?” Priya asked, making you jump.
“Just miss my pack,” you sighed.
“Mmmm. I remember those days. You'll get used to it and then pretty soon you'll be wishing for some space,” she chuckled.
You couldn't imagine wanting space from them. Especially when they seemed so far away.
You bought a bag of chips- or crisps as your pack would say.
“I'm going to run to the bathroom quickly,” Priya excused herself, dodging away before you could say anything. You shrugged plopping down in a hard blue chair. This reminded you of when Simon was in the hospital. His hazel eyes droopy from all the medicine in his system. You wished you committed them to memory more, now all you got were his sharp calculating eyes.
“There you are! Come, you are needed in room B17,” a doctor- seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He reached down grabbing your arm, pulling you up from your chair. “You omegas are always taking breaks,” he growled, pulling you along. Your phone slipped out of your pocket, clattering against the tile.
“No! I'm here with a friend I'm not here to”-
“Keep your bloody voice down. People are trying to sleep,” he chided. You wondered why he was so angry. It made your stomach twist in knots, your throat running dry.
“Stop,” you growled back, pulling yourself away.
“I’ll report you if you don't knock it off. Damn holding houses always sends the difficult ones,” his grip on you was tight, too tight. You will undoubtedly have bruises tomorrow. Everyone seemed to disappear as you were tugged along the seemingly never-ending hallway.
‘Just remain calm. This is just a misunderstanding.’ you told yourself.
“Sir, stop. This is a mistake. I have my own pack here on base, you need to let me go,” you tried your hardest to keep your voice calm. He didn't seem to be listening. He opened a door and pushed you inside. “I’m not here as a healer,” you insisted.
“Stop your whining and get on with your job. You all get sent out here and then come up with every excuse to not have to do anything. I saw you playing checkers,” he spat. “This isn't a vacation.” he began to shut the door, your hands reaching forward to keep it from shutting. You quickly lost. The door locking into place. What kind of place has locks on the outside of the door?
“Fuckfuckfuck,” you repeated, surveying the room you were tossed into. There were two large men hooked up to various machines. You knew what you were sent in here to do. The same reason you were sent here for Simon. One man was sleeping peacefully and you couldn't quite grasp what was wrong with him. The other man had been beaten to a pulp. His face was black and purple. You couldn't bear to look at him for more than a few seconds. You approached the other bed cautiously, looking for a call button on the side of the bed. You found it, digging your thumb into it like your life depended. It very well may.
After a minute of pressing no response.
Two minutes passed, your eyes trained on the clock above the door.
“You,” a low voice from the other bed alerted you. Your blood ran cold. Your eyes quickly fled to the bed, you couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. “Don't hurt me anymore. I payed enough.” your brows furrowed before the realization hit you like a bolt of lightning.
It was him. One of the men who attacked you. The one who pulled the other one away.
The one that was missing.
You backed up heading towards the door. You needed out. You needed out right now.
“I only did it because Lieutenant Hale asked me to. We weren't going to hurt you,” the man practically whimpered.
“What did Hale want?” you questioned, trying to hold steady.
“I don't know. I didn't know who you were when he asked me to get you. He just gave me a description of what you smelled like. I didn't even know you were 141 till you turned around. I would've never done anything had I known,” he was shaking more than you at this point, his heart rate monitor going off the charts.
A sudden heat filled you. You couldn't tell if it was rage or fear but there was no stopping it.
“You shouldn't have done it anyways,” you snarled. You held all the power. You alphas had protected you. The evidence was right in front of your face. You were a part of their pack- it was time you started to act like it. “Fuckin disgusting,” you spat. You turned back around pounding on the door with all your might.
The door unlocked and you pushed it open before the person on the other end had time to think.
“Get back in there and stop”- it was the same doctor from earlier, his grip on your arms returning.
“I’m not a freelance omega,” you snarled. His eyes widened at your disrespect. “You know who my Alphas are? Captain John Price and Lieutenant Ghost. That ring a bell?”
It was cliche but the results were immediate. His hands left you, instead resting against the wall, the other one patting his chest.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I had no idea”-
“Instead of thinking you know everything, how about you listen to people. Especially omegas. We don't owe you anything and deserve to be treated with respect,” you chided. He quickly nodded his head, too panicked to disagree. “You put my life at risk.”
“You're absolutely right. I'll start”- you didn't wait for him to finish turning on your heels walking back down the hall, and grabbing your phone.
You breathed in the fresh air like you had been under dense smog for years. You leaned against the building, quickly texting Priya.
I'm outside by the door we came in. You aren't going to believe what happened
I went home! You disappeared… wanna hang out tomorrow?
You rolled your eyes, already heading back home.
You left her on read.
You slept peacefully that night.
Your phone ringing woke you up. Your heart pounded at the sound.
“Hello,” you answered quickly.
“Hey, peaches,” Johnny’s voice went in through your ears all the way down to your toes.
“Mac,” you whined.
“None of that,” he snipped gently. “I wake you up?”
“No,” you lied. “I am in your bed though,”
He groaned from the other end.
“What are you wearing?” he purred, making you giggle. You put on your best seductive voice.
“Nothing,” you whispered.
“You’re a new type of evil, hen,” he chuckled. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” you sighed. “Very much.”
“Alpha wants to talk to you. I'll see you soon, Bon,” Johnny ended. You heard a bit of shuffling your heart rate picking back up.
“How you doin’ pretty girl?” the muscles in your body went lax at the sound of John’s voice. He'd only been gone for about four days and you had already forgotten the effect his voice had on you.
“John,” you breathed into the phone. “I miss you.”
He sighed heavily into the phone- bordering on a growl.
“We’ll be back in three days, pretty. Finishing up here early. Then we’ll be all yours, okay?” he eased.
“Okay,” you agreed. Your head felt light. If this was how you felt now you could only imagine how bad it would be when you were finally marked. “Be safe.”
“Always.” he lied, hanging up.
You stretched out under the covers. Your body was warm and tingly, with a tight constriction in your lower abdomen.
You don't get “excited” often. Unless it’s your heat of course. You had little to no interactions with suitors, only being constantly surrounded by your peers. When you were around “potential” mates you never felt much desire towards them.
Your pack changed that.
You've suddenly found yourself in a puddle most of the time, your thighs clenching at the most inopportune times. Kyle and his feathery touches, the way his lips always skimmed your neck when he would whisper to you late at night. Johnny and the way his hands seemed to be permanently glued to your hips, squeezing your soft flesh. The way John’s beard scraped against your cheek or your lips. It was easy to imagine what it felt like against your thighs. Then there was Simon. He wasn't incredibly physical with you, but that left even more to the imagination.
You groaned, rolling over onto your back.
You did have the place to yourself. Your finger danced across your stomach, trying to imagine they were Kyle's instead. You slowly slipped them under the waistband of your underwear, moving to where you felt it should go.
You were pathetic. You hardly even knew how to touch yourself.
A few minutes later you had dried up, frustration the only thing on your mind. You growled rolling back over to bury your face into Johnny’s pillows.
Maybe when your pack got back they could help you with your problem.
Hi friends! Short chapter today! I'll see you in two days for chapter 18! The boys come back! 🧡 I wonder how they’ll react to your little run-in with the doctor……
#novemberheart#captain john price#gaz x reader#ghost x reader#kyle gaz garrick#poly141#price x reader#simon ghost riley#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish#captain john price x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#poly141 x fem reader#poly 141#poly141 x reader#cod a/b/o#a/b/o dynamics#as needed#ghost cod#soap cod#price cod#Gaz cod
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The Window (6 of 7)
Ch 01 // Ch 02 // Ch 03 // Ch 04 // Ch 05 // Ch 06 // Ch 07
AO3 Link
TW: lactation kink
The house is lonely without your boys, especially when your breasts are so full and achy. If only there was someone home to help you…
You settled into the house almost too quickly. You each had your own space, but the main bedroom was where you all spent most of your time. The bedroom was huge — one of the reasons John had picked this house — and the en suite bathroom could more than accommodate all five of you, if need be. But, when the boys were away, the sprawling, expansive house was… lonely.
They tried to leave you in shifts, but it wasn’t like they were logging hours at a normal job; it was war. War didn’t have a schedule. So, you padded around the house, trying to play some music or keep the television on, but it wasn’t the same. It was just you and… who?
You’d asked the doctor not to tell you the sex of your baby at your ultrasound appointment, and none of the potential fathers had been around to go with you. So, you were in the dark. You’d thought about names, and Johnny had offered a good many family names to keep you busy for a while. But, even though you had plenty to think about and plenty to do – you were still working remote on recon and data tracking – it was just an empty sort of existence.
To make matters worse, you’d hit a bit of a snare. Right at the sixteen week mark, you’d started leaking more than just a little milk. You’d woken up to a wet, messy situation, and you quickly scheduled an appointment. The doctor had taken some time to assure you all was well, but then, not even a week later, you had swollen, painful blockages and you were back in his office, waiting for more news.
“Looks like you just have tiny ducts,” he shrugged, looking at your scans. His hands were dry but chilly as he peeked under your hospital robe to examine your sore nipples, “You may need to express them. I know it may put you at risk of an early labor, but we can monitor you in the meantime. Try to only pump when absolutely necessary.”
So, you’d followed his orders. Once every few days, you pumped out the heavy, engorged globes that used to be B-cups, watching as your nipples filled jar after jar. There was no use in freezing it this early, so down the drain it went.
Now, at week twenty something, you were a walking milk nightmare. You’d never done so many loads of laundry in your life. The embarrassing thing about it though was that you liked it. Just the thought of attaching the plastic suction cup onto your breast was enough to make you slick between your legs, and the act itself was frequently pleasurable enough to send you over a climactic edge. To say that your nipples were sensitive was an understatement. But still, you tried to only do it when need be. You didn’t want to make a mistake.
When the boys came home, you filled them in on all the updates. Johnny was a little sad he’d missed the ultrasound, but it just added fuel to his fire of picking out names. He seemed even more interested in the pain-relieving, pleasure-inducing qualities of your breast pump, though. At dinner, you caught him staring down your shirt more than once when you tried to speak with him, and when you lay together on the couch, his hand was always massaging your swollen flesh, all under the guise of keeping you from getting another painful duct.
But, you knew the truth. His cock had never been so hard as when you started to leak through your top and had to go change, rushing to wash and find your nipple pads. Johnny stalked you into the large bedroom, thumb crooked in the waistband of his pants,
“You alright, bonnie? Need me to help you?”
“No, yeah. I’m okay. Just… dealing with the dairy farm over here,” you said, exasperated.
He sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, watching you pull out the tubes and machine with all of its parts and cords. His hand fell to your thigh, squeezing you gently,
“Think I could do it instead?”
“You…” You turned to face him, hands still tangled in the pump, making sure you heard him correctly, “You want to try it?”
Johnny adjusted himself in his jeans, his eyes pinned to your cleavage, unable to look away even for decorum’s sake,
“Aye, lass. More than anythin’.”
“Um, sure. I think it’s fine. It all gets thrown out anyway. I’ll get you a towel,” you moved to get up, your belly now at a round enough size to be a hindrance, but he stopped you, pulling you back down roughly.
“Hey —” You protested, but he interrupted you.
“Sit down,” his voice was gravelly and heavily accented, almost like when he was drunk, “Let me…”
“Johnny, wait,” you tried to twist away from his grip, but he was too strong, “It’ll be such a mess. They’re so full right now. Just wait for me to—”
His eyes shot up to yours, pinning you in place, his full lips set in a hungry snarl,
“I dinnae need a towel, bonnie. I’m gonna taste you, messy or not.”
He let his vow sink in, and you could feel yourself melting, literally and figuratively, at his words. You didn’t fight him as he began to kiss you, smearing his mouth all over you, doing his best to shove down your tank top, stuffing the neckline under your tits, fumbling around the back to unhook the clasp of your bra.
“Johnny,” you breathed, your voice giving away the wet rush that was flooding straight to your core, “The laundry…”
“Fuck the laundry. I need to drain you fuckin’ dry. Right now.”
Your whole body responded to that comment. Your skin flushed hot and your sore nipples hardened, eager to experience the way his mouth would feel as he drank from you. You weren’t even sure if he’d know how to draw out your milk.
All of your concerns were cast aside as he settled you in his lap, pulling off your clothes like a much-desired present, tossing your clothes aside like wrapping paper to get to the good part. He fumbled with his jeans, freeing his thick, curved cock from his pants, pumping it roughly to spread his precome over the heavy head.
You helped him, angling your body over his dick and lowering yourself down onto him, as carefully as you could, spearing your pussy with his rod, inch by trembling inch, listening to him try to catch his breath. Once you reached the middle, at the deepest part of his curve, you struggled to fit him the rest of the way in, grinding forward and back, looking for that sweet spot.
Then, impatient and hungry, he finished the job, pulling you down by your hips and forcing himself the rest of the way. It made you cry out from the shock of it. It wasn’t necessarily painful, but his roughness was a stark change from how he had been treating you. When he knew about the baby, he spent a lot of time preparing you, using his mouth to lap at your pussy and prying you apart with his fingers. Always gentle and mindful of your comfort. But, not now. Now, he had his sights set on devouring you in the literal sense of the word.
“Johnny…” You gasped, rocking against his shape tentatively.
“C’mere, lass,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice sharp and commanding.
His eyes were fixated on your dark, round nipples, and as you rode him, grinding yourself down onto his lap, he latched onto your left breast, taking the meat of your peak all the way into his mouth. Then, he began to suck.
You thought it would be gentle and sensual, expecting it to be largely for his pleasure and not effective enough to get the thick, creamy milk out of your poor swollen ducts, but you were wrong. Johnny began to suck and swallow, suck and swallow, suck and swallow; a terrifying, rhythmic feeding, drinking from you like his life depended on it. You peered down at him as he delivered this unknown pleasure to you.
Johnny’s eyes were fluttering closed, the whites of them rolling back into his head, and he began to let out these long, deep, guttural moans. You could feel the relief in your breast the moment he began, and with each suck, you could tell that his mouth was filling with squirt after squirt of warm, sweet milk.
Your hips humped against him involuntarily at this point, too horny to think straight, and you realized that your right nipple had begun to let down, full as it was. You tried to catch it from dripping onto him, swiping away the white rivulets with your palm, but he caught you, realizing you were trying to take what was his.
He moved his mouth from your left nipple to your right, letting his score drip down his chin and neck, caring nothing for the mess. Then, he latched onto your right nipple just as he had the left, sucking and swallowing until his cock throbbed inside of you.
You cradled his head as he drank from you, using his neck and shoulders to keep you steady as you rode him, feeling him suckle against you over and over, your hot milk filling his belly.
“Havin’ fun without us, Johnny?” Price’s voice rumbled from the doorway, startling you. You tried to turn around, but Johnny had you in a vice grip, and all you could do was ride and whimper from his fucking and his feeding.
“John…” You moaned, and he stepped around to sit next to his sergeant on the bed, smiling at the two of you, admiring the mess you were making.
“Can I try, love?” Price asked, leaning forward to drink from you without waiting for your permission.
All you could do was moan, high and helpless, your pussy so wet that it was practically gushing over Johnny’s thick cock. As soon as you felt John’s mouth on you, suckling from you just as intently as Soap’s, you started to come. You felt yourself clenching around your hungry lover, flooding him with your orgasm, wrecked by their insistent mouths.
“Tha’s it, bonnie,” Johnny pulled away, white streams of cream falling from his lips, looking like he was drunk, “Come for me.”
Price was greedier than Soap, even though you weren’t sure how that could be possible, and he used his strong hand to knead and squeeze your tits, forcing your body to drop even more milk for him to drink. His mustache tickled your sensitive flesh, and you couldn’t see it but you could hear the twisting, slapping wetness of him jerking his fat cock as he drank from you.
“Fuck, she tastes so good, hm?” Prince crooned.
“Hngh, Johnny… I can’t…” You whined, feeling yourself start to become overstimulated, “I can’t…”
“You can, lass. And you fuckin’ will,” Johnny grabbed your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks, forcing you to kiss him. You could taste your own milk on his tongue. It was warm and a little sugary, like the dregs of a bowl of cereal, thick and creamy.
He released your jaw and went back to work, suckling from you with a relentless vacuum, making your head spin. You didn’t know how you were able to make so much milk, but it seemed endless. You were hypnotized by the way his throat bulged as he swallowed gulp after gulp of your body’s gift, sucking you down.
Price seemed just as hungry, and you saw how, from the corners of his mouth, tiny droplets of milk would escape and wet his beard, the white cream staining his dark hair. He teased you with his hand, leaving his cock to fend for itself as he smeared his precome all over your asshole. Then, as you rode Soap back and forth, thrusting against him with abandon, John put his finger against your puckered hole and let you push yourself onto it. As you canted your hips back, your hole would let your captain’s huge fingertip slide inside it. As you thrust forward, you would pull away, losing the feeling of fullness that he was giving you.
It was agony. You wanted him to fuck you on his hand, or to take you with his cock — as painful as it may be without prep — anything to make you feel filled up. But he didn’t; he kept his finger right where he wanted it, letting you fuck yourself with just the tip until you felt stinging tears in the corners of your eyes.
“Please, John… please…” You barely had any words left, but he knew what you wanted.
He met your eyes with his own as he took a particularly long suck from your sore breast, making you watch as he coaxed your nectar into his mouth. Then, he pulled away with a swift pop, licking across your swollen nipple to soothe the pain he had caused. He smiled at you, patronizingly, teasing you still with his finger,
“Does our girl need me to fuck her tight little arse?”
You nodded, barely able to keep your eyes open, overwhelmed by the pleasure,
“Yes, please… I need it. Need to come again. Please…”
“Fuck, bonnie. If you come again, you’ll take me with you,” Soap murmured, unwilling to take his mouth away from your tits too far, talking with his mouth half-full.
Price bent his head, returning to his rough suckling, filling his cheeks with more of your milk. But, this time, as you thrust yourself against Johnny, you felt two, curled fingers shove themselves deep inside of your asshole. Your whole body convulsed, your pussy clenching and gushing with wetness, twisting its muscles around Soap’s dick, trying to get him to fill you with his load. Your legs shuddered, unable to keep from shaking as you rode him, feeling numb as the tantalizing sensation of your stretched holes washed over you.
John fucked you without mercy, pulling his fingers all the way out and stuffing them all the way back into your ass everytime you thrust forward and back. You were screaming, and your poor, well-used cunt was pumping itself against Soap’s rod, making heinous slick noises as you rode him. Beyond any sort of politeness or gentility, your men were noisy in their feasting as well, slurping and sucking loudly, grunting every time you clenched yourself around them.
When Price added a third finger, you came again, your pussy quickly running out of room to accommodate them both. Soap’s hot seed burst inside of you just as he’d promised, burning your core and painting your walls with his come.
“Oh, fuck! Johnny, fill me up. Fill me…” You slurred, letting your head hang back limply, basking in the feeling of his orgasm.
Price took the opportunity to haul you off of Johnny’s lap and onto his own, replacing the emptiness in your pussy with his fat cock, sliding through his sergeant’s come and keeping his fingers in your ass as you rode him.
Even though he was spent, Johnny didn’t let up on his feeding. He’d ripped a page out of Price’s playbook and was massaging your breast with both hands, squeezing out every last drop from your body. When he finally stopped suckling from your bruised nipple, he licked you, over and over, running the warm flat of his tongue across your nipple to swipe up any stray drops, chasing your peaks as you bounced on your captain’s dick.
Price squeezed your tits in his hands, letting the one that was still full squirt all over his mouth and nose, covering himself in your cream. When he noticed Soap’s desperation, he switched positions. The sergeant fell onto his back, resting against the mattress, and the captain threw you on all fours, letting your tits dangle over Johnny’s open mouth. Then, he climbed up behind you, feeding himself back into your pussy.
As Price fucked himself into you, your breasts swayed back and forth, your nipples rubbing across Soap’s mouth as he moved from one to the other. You felt him latch onto the left one, drinking from you in thirsty slurping gulps, his puckered lips pressing onto your flesh with as much suction as he could muster. Meanwhile, your stretched cunt was being stuffed with Price’s shaft, his head invading your deepest parts, filling up your hole over and over and over.
Finally, when you were out of milk and practically sobbing from the brain-breaking orgasms you’d been given, he pulled out, flipping you onto your back and laying you right beside Soap, aiming his load at your bruised tits. His teeth were clenched as he grunted out his climax, painting long, white ropes of come all over your nipples.
You looked down, unable to tell what was his and what was yours, your breasts messy and covered in cream of all kinds. John’s hands came down and rubbed his spend all over your nipples, smearing it around them like a salve. Johnny leaned over you, licking up Price’s come just as greedily as he had your milk, latching and suckling from you over and over, even if you were empty, like a greedy puppy.
Exhausted, and with a belly full of breast milk, Price crashed to the mattress beside you and Soap.
Standing in the doorway, Gaz and Ghost looked down at you with smug, satisfied expressions, and Garrick chuckled,
“Better recover quick, babes. Got me workin’ up an appetite.”
#call of duty fanfic#captain john price#john price#call of duty#captain price#captain price x you#john soap mactavish#john price smut#soap smut#soap x you#sharing is caring#cod#sharing couple#fun for 3#poly tf141#cod mw2#poly 141#the window by the californicationist#the window
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cosmos
18+ nsfw content ahead, approach with caution. if a minor, I ask you to not interact.
🌌𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then? ☄️𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kang yeosang x f!reader ☄️𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17.7k ☄️𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, space travelers, space themes, plot twist, smut with plot ☄️𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, voyeurism, praise kink, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, biting, marking ☄️𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: Interstellar Main Theme (extended version)
🌠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, light violence, existential crisis (me lol), depressing themes, mentions of death, slight blo0d (like two drops), mentions of substances 🌠𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by passengers (2016), i absolutely adore space, i am so in love with it, to the point it scares me how beautiful, enormous and unpredictable it is. i gave my all to this fic, kinda put myself in it, so please do not hesitate to leave a feedback <3 each word means the world to me!
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
"calculating remaining travel time... xjlsdja23ky324xii... updated."
"come on, you piece of shit."
"updated estimated time to reach proxima centauri b is nine hundred and twenty eight years, six days and seven minutes."
"fuck!" the man hits the screen with his fist, but the numbers don't budge. "what the fuck?!"
if the man's relatives and friends were awake around him at this moment, they would've been shocked. kang yeosang never swore, nor did he ever strike anyone or anything. him losing his temper is something that only ever happened once, at the entrance of the very ship he stands in. the captain wanted to separate his mother from his family, claiming there is no space for her and that they have reached the traveler limit. she is the last to board, they said, you'll wait for the next one. yeosang stepped down, letting his mother take his space, and said his tearful goodbyes before clearing the way for the captain and the stewards to close the doors.
however, they did not. instead, they waved their hand towards a group of people, keeping the door open for them. yeosang watched with his jaw dropped as a family of five rushed to the doors, dragging their designer luggage, wheels scratching the uneven concrete floor and making the man's ears bleed. blood boils inside his body, and his mother noticed the popped vein on his forehead from the window. before she can make it to the door to stop him, yeosang throws himself at the captain, hate, cussing and violence taking over his body.
once the stewards separated them and his mother's face appeared in front of him, he realized his mistake. the older man seized the woman by her elbow, then shoves her down the silver stairs. the sound of groans and thumps still echo in yeosang's ears, accompanied by the distant rumble of the luggage wheels that had triggered his reaction.
"you want to get on the ship so bad? go!"
he is forced inside the ship, and moved away from the doors so they can close them. through the window, he looks at his tearful and hurt mother through his own blurry eyes, heart ripping apart at the sight. i'll be fine, she keeps mouthing, forcing a smile.
they say the next ship will be ready soon, but after this, how can he trust anyone? besides, the ship could be ready next week, or next year. the danger is inching closer with each day that passes, increasing in speed and destroying everything in its path, until it eventually collides with the green planet, destroying both in the process. if they survive the impact, they will die of starvation. yeosang's heart clenches at the thought. he didn't want his mother to await certain death on this planet. he didn't want her to eat dust and dig for food in the ashes of those who stayed, willingly or forcefully.
but that might just be the price for his actions. yeosang sobs against the window, clawing at it. his lungs hurt, a new realization hitting him with each second that passes and sending him into another fit of wailing. a soft smile on her face is the last thing the man sees before he is pulled away from the window. he recognizes his sister's voice comforting him, even though she is in as much pain as him.
now, yeosang stands before the screen, its numbers blurred by fresh tears of sadness and anger. he walks over to his sleeping pod, eyes examining it and brain struggling to understand what went wrong. he lays inside once again, then closes the glass door. the white sheets are still warm and as uncomfortable as the first time he laid there. nothing changes, no sound is heard, no matter how long he lays there. he isn't stupid, he knows that the buttons on the outer shell need to be pressed in order for him to go into hibernation again. but maybe, just maybe, a miracle happens.
an hour, a nap, and no miracles later, yeosang is awake again. he sighs, chest swelling with sadness and pain once more. not only did he abandon his mother, but he is going to face his end alone too. the blonde man glances at the nearby pods; his sister, grandfather, and a few family friends all peacefully awaiting the end of the long voyage. hundreds of pods are lined up in the room, each person inside it dressed the same, stripped of any makeup, piercings, and earthly clothes, instead dressed in simple white silk sleepwear. from the richest to the poorest, they all share the same fate now; a plain sleeping pod, with no designer marks or gold pleating, barefoot, barefaced, and a desire to keep living. he is so close to them, yet so far. surrounded, but isolated.
until he hears a crash outside the hibernation room.
his bare feet tap against the cold white tiles as he follows the echo of the noise, heart thumping with fear and hope. is he not alone?
yeosang finally exits the hibernation room, eyes failing to catch an empty pod near the exit. he finds himself standing in the middle of what looked like a lobby. the pale colour of the walls hurt his eyes, along with a big number of white led lights scattered on the ceiling. on the first glance, it looked simple. once yeosang's eyes got used to the light, he noticed a great willow tree in the middle of the room. it is surrounded by a few wooden benches, all facing it. a long table follows the curved walls, decorated with plants of all sorts, protected by glass.
he does not speak just yet, instead he further examines the room. all the windows are shut, and yeosang doesn't think to approach one and remove the shade. he continues the path through the door closest to the one of the hibernation room, not knowing what to hope for. is he alone, or is he not? both possibilities are equally terrifying. if yes, what was the noise? if not, what could he expect from the person that was also awake for some reason?
yeosang seems to have entered a tube that served as a hallway, the walls curved and decorated with thin led stripes. yeosang's eyes shine under the lights, like a baby's on their first christmas. the hallway leads him into a somewhat warmer decorated room, soft yellow lights a contrast to the previous strong white ones. he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the space. it looks like a restaurant, with a bar fully stocked. there aren't many tables, all of them made to fit up to four people.
they are simply decorated, with a single electric candle in the middle. the chairs are all neatly tucked in, except one. the man carefully approaches the table, fingers hesitantly grazing the plush backrest. it is a deep green colour, the velvet material soft under yeosang's fingertips. the seat itself has an imprint, and yeosang's heart seems to stop for a moment. he raises his head abruptly, and his eyes lock with another pair.
he steps back, breath caught in his throat. the figure gasps too, eyes widening, before her legs carry her outside the restaurant and into another room. the man stays still, unsure if he should follow. what if it is a trap? for his misbehaviour? what should he do anyway? hide around the ship until the end of his life? could be tricky, but the ship is enormous. with an equally enormous luck, he might just make it.
his eyes catch a few items on the table; an opened book, a marker, cup of brown liquid and a broken necklace. on the floor is a shattered glass, probably the crash he heard. he takes the book in his hands, making sure to remember the page before closing it to view the title. it looks like a steamy romance, and when he goes through a few pages, he has to set it down before his attention shifts to something else.
"good evening, sir. ready to order?"
yeosang jumps, dropping the just acquired blue marker on the table. the voice is robotic, yet the face is human. it is an older man, with wheels instead of feet. his hands look human too, holding a tray with a single glass of water on it. it is when yeosang takes a sip that he realizes just how parched he was. he downs the glass, a few drops escaping and rolling down his chin and neck.
"what are you?" he finally speaks.
"i am a human made robot, created to be at your service during your stay at the ship. would you like to sit and take a look at the menu?"
yeosang sits down on the other chair, curiosity taking over him. shortly after, a thin menu is handed to him. it has a few usual choices, and a few more fancy ones. his stomach grumbles as he reads the ingredients of a certain dish, mouth almost watering when he sees the picture of it on the next page. but he has other things to worry about.
"made for our service, right?"
"indeed, sir."
"then, can you activate my pod again?"
"oh, sorry sir. that is beyond my program."
the blonde haired man sighs, dropping the menu on the table. he intertwines his fingers and rests his elbows on the edge of the table, his chin on top of his hands. he looks at the robot's smiley face, and then scoffs.
"it's just a few buttons."
"i'm sorry sir, but-"
"you're programmed to make dozens of cocktails, but not to press a few buttons?" he raises his voice, annoyed with the situation.
"it is dangerous, sir. i cannot just press any buttons, there is a whole procedure. your pod might implode, and you might endanger other pods, even the ship itself."
"bullshit."
"perhaps the young lady can help."
yeosang follows the robot's gaze, and his eyes lock with those from moments ago again. a female figure stands at the doors where she once disappeared, with no emotion on her face. at first, yeosang thinks that it is another robot. but all of her seems human enough.
"i'll be at the bar if you need me." with that, the robot slides behind the bar, busying himself with cleaning.
the girl approaches, carefully. when she reaches her once abandoned table, she slowly smiles. the look on the man's face makes her smile fade quickly, pure anger written all over his features.
"you." he says through gritted teeth.
"uh... hi. my name is-" she holds her hand out as a greeting, ignoring the sudden hostile demeanor.
"i don't want to know your fucking name."
"w-what?"
yeosang replays the image of the captain pushing him out of the way, only to invite a whole family inside after he said there is no more space left. he saw you, carrying that foolish designer bag over your shoulder, the weight of it pulling your body to the side. he remembers locking eyes with you for a split second, just before he went berserk on the captain. you looked like you hadn't worked a single day in your life, and like your world was only flowers and waterfalls.
"you're holding me accountable for your mom, aren't you?"
"do not talk about my mother."
"you know, before assuming something, you should try thinking a bit harder. how do you-"
"i don't have to- no, i don't want to think harder. you rich bastards waltz in here like it's nothing while us poor people have to scrape every corner of our house for the last penny to get a chance for a ticket." he stands from the chair abruptly, making it fall on the floor and you flinch.
tears gather in your eyes, and you feel frustrated that you cannot control it. why do you always have to cry, no matter the emotion? who cries from anger, for god's sake?
"oh, no no. you do not get to cry. that is my mother that stayed down there, and-"
"you think i just��waltzed in here? just like that? you think i didn't pay for my own goddamn ticket? you think they let us in just because of our status and wealth?"
"you paid for your ticket? who told you that, your daddy?"
you stay silent for a moment, before confirming. yeosang laughs sarcastically, offending you even more.
"right." he scoffs.
"you think he would lie to me?"
"did you see the tickets? do you know what they look like? how much they cost? where they're taking us? do you even know where you are going? tell me any of these things, and i'll believe you."
you sit down, staring at the broken necklace. you did not know any of those things. you did ask your father to show you the tickets multiple times, you were excited. but he delayed it, even at the entrance, he didn't have to show it to the captain.
"that's what i thought."
"but... why would they let us board?"
"because your daddy is an important minister. you should try thinking a bit harder." he repeats your sentence from earlier.
you sit still, anger stirring inside of you. anger no longer directed at the gorgeous man, but at your family. your father specifically. the stranger picks up the chair, then sits on it. he sighs, shoving his face in his hands.
"what happened to your pod?" he asks, not yet looking at you.
"i don't know. i suddenly woke up, couldn't breathe, and had to break the glass to get out. next thing i know, it had smoke coming out of it so i pressed a bunch of buttons until the thing shut down completely. what about yours?"
yeosang removed his hands from his face, finally looking at you properly. he feels his ears and cheeks warm up, noticing just how beautiful you are. he looks at your book instead, unable to maintain eye-contact.
"no difficulty with breathing as far as i remember. i woke up like i did on earth every day, and it felt natural too. the lid was open, no smoke or cracks. the digital board seemed normal, the vitals still showing up until i had to rip the cables from my wrists." yeosang looks down on his hands, remembering how gently he yanked those tubes from his flesh. "then i was confused as to why i was the only one awake. i went to the main screen in the hibernation room, might've hit it, and then heard a crash. you, assuming?"
"yeah. i knocked it over while trying to fix the stupid necklace."
yeosang nods, eyeing the necklace that now rests in your fingers. it has a simple butterfly pendant, and yeosang fights the urge to ask if it holds any meaning.
"how long have you been awake?"
"about three weeks."
"it doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're alone, assuming it feels like three months?"
you laugh, "more like three years."
"have you tried sending a message back to earth?"
you frown, remembering all the video and voice messages you have sent the first day you woke up and met your new fate. you abused the poor system, sending a tearful plea for help almost every hour.
"i have."
"and?"
"it takes approximately nineteen years for them to receive it, and more than nineteen for me to receive the reply, depends on the speed we are moving at. in that time, the asteroid is expected to strike. they'll have it worse than i do, so i am at least grateful that i get to live to an old age. hopefully."
silence envelops both of you for a while. he seems to be thinking, eyes squinted and nose scrunched cutely.
"do you think... you can try activating my pod again?"
he sees your smile fade. must be horrible to be all alone, especially knowing that you won't reach the set destination. nine hundred years is a long time after all. barely any human lives past a hundred.
"i can try."
yeosang beams, excitedly standing up. he misses the way your eyes become glossy again, tears threatening to spill any moment. you trail behind him, using the chance to examine him. he is taller than you, with soft blonde hair that falls over his almond eyes, and bright skin. he looks like a prince, more beautiful than any man you've been with or had a crush on. he looks over his shoulder, checking to see if you're following him. his eyes are a warm chestnut brown, and his lips a pretty pink shade. you're jealous of his cheekbones and lashes.
soon enough you stand in front of his hibernation pod, the lid opened and the sheets inviting, no matter how uncomfortable.
"right, then. lay down." you say with a heavy heart.
he wastes no time, laying in the pod with his eyes closed and rolling up his sleeves. you take the discarded tubes, poking the tiny needles back below his wounded flesh and taping them back together. he closes his eyes, and his lips twitch in a smile. you bite the inside of your cheek, wishing for nothing more than for all of this to fail.
you're horrible, yes. but if you have to spend another day alone here, you might just toss yourself out in space without a suit on and die. robots are a good company only for a limited amount of time, before their answers start becoming repetitive and predictable.
"you never told me your name." you mumble, getting ready to close the clear lid.
"yeosang." he says, opening one eye to look at you. "yours?"
"y/n."
"beautiful." he compliments.
"bye, yeosang. i hope a better life awaits you." you say before your voice starts cracking, and a tear escapes your eye.
"bye, y/n." the man says his final words before closing his eyes again and relaxing.
you close the lid, then make sure his vitals are showing on the tiny screen. once everything seems ready, you follow the steps on the screen, pushing the buttons in the right order, until it asks for an authorization code.
"shit."
he seems to hear it, because he opens his eyes to look at you with his eyebrow raised. "what?"
"uh, i'll be right back. i just need the authorization code."
"oh. alright, i hope you find it."
"it should be on the main screen."
after a long time of fooling around on the screen, you do not find the code. if you were to start guessing, you wouldn't know where to start. the keypad offers both numbers and letters, and it could be any combination.
"yeosang?"
"yes?"
"i'm so sorry, but... i couldn't find the code."
yeosang's world shatters once again. it seemed way too easy anyway.
"help me out."
a week later, you still find the man in the same spot. he sleeps in his hibernation pod, and when he doesn't, he sits on the floor beside it and stares at the ceiling. the glass of water you had brought him last night, just like every other night, was empty beside it. it makes you feel relieved that he drank. you don't want him to die like this. you aren't sure how you would handle that, both emotionally and physically.
"yeosang?"
you call, hoping to convince him to come outside today.
"want a tour of the ship? you haven't seen anything yet. besides, don't you have to piss from all this water?"
"thanks for reminding me. my kidneys will kill me." he groans. "which way?"
you lead him out the hibernation room and into the lobby again, only this time you take a different path. there is a door near the restaurant hallway, and you playfully open it up for him.
"my lord."
he rolls his eyes, not yet in the mood for jokes. you lean your head against the locked door, hearing a soft sniff from inside.
"the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you. i promise."
"you say it like it's easy."
"it's not. i still cry myself to sleep. but i like to pretend that i own the ship, and that all of those people in those pods are my peasants who are coming to serve me on my new planet."
you hear a faint chuckle, and your heart feels lighter.
"besides, once i show you everything, you'll see just how irrelevant our lives are compared to the whole universe. it's beautiful, yeosang."
"you can see outside?"
"yes. i'll take you to the cockpit, if you promise to have a proper breakfast."
you hear water running, and you assume he is washing his hands. "how do you know it's morning? isn't it always dark out there?"
"funnily enough, my digital watch still works. the battery did not run out yet. currently, it is ten in the morning on earth. i even let you sleep in! how generous of me."
he opens the door, causing you to stumble forward into him. he catches you before your head can hit his chest, and it is then that you realize just how big his hands are. you smile awkwardly, stepping back.
"let's go."
yeosang chooses a simple breakfast; cereal and a banana. you order your usual, the blueberry muffin and chocolate milk having you in a chokehold since the first day you woke up. you feel like a peasant who was allowed into his lord's house, eating like a starved farmer while yeosang eats like a sophisticated prince. he taps the napkin on the corners of his mouth every few moments, doesn't graze the spoon against the bowl and doesn't slurp the milk. you, on the other hand, have made a mess not only on the table, but on your lap and floor as well.
"so, uh..." he trails, moving the emptied bowl aside and reaching for the yellow fruit, "what's the plan?"
"are we talking short term or long term?" you also finish the muffin and set the paper wrap aside.
"let's stick to short for now."
"i thought i'd give you a tour of the ship. find you a room, spare clothes and such. the ship is like a city floating through space. my childhood town didn't have this many things to do."
the man laughs lightly, fidgeting with the banana. he doesn't peel it yet, his thoughts so intense they're almost audible. you call his name, once, twice. he doesn't respond. hesitantly, you reach over to put your hand over his. he ceases his fidgeting, his gaze locking with yours. the whites of his eyes are red and glossy again, and being the sensitive person you are, your eyes start burning too. you let out a shaky sigh, trying your hardest not to break down in front of him. he avoids your gaze again, seeing what he did to you.
"i'm going to sound mean and horrible. i know you might have a spark of hope left, and i want to tell you that you should get rid of it right away. hope will only worsen your pain. there is nothing we can do, yeosang. we can't turn the ship around, we are already years away. we will make it just in time for us to die of old age. we can't wake up any of the crew or loved ones, who would put them to sleep again? one of us would have to stay back again. and if you're thinking of the worst... well, i can't stop you there. i'll try, but the ship is huge. i won't be able to keep up with you if you do decide to take that step."
the blonde man sniffles, wiping his cheeks with the back of his free hand. his other one still subconsciously holds onto yours, thumb lightly caressing your skin and comforting you.
"if you, however, do decide... please let me know. so i can prepare to be alone again." your voice trembles, and tears finally set themselves free.
yeosang squeezes your hand, then put his other one over it and keeping it warm. he just now realizes how hard you also have it. he feels selfish, dumping all his sadness on you and not thinking about your feelings at all. you are a stranger, but if you are going to live on the ship with him, might as well try and make friends with you. otherwise, it would be awkward to coexist together.
"so, the cockpit?"
"woah, take me to dinner first."
as you help ryan, the robot you both named, clean up the table, yeosang takes the time to examine the bar.
"so he makes all the food too?"
"there's a couple machines back there, not humanoid though. enough to know a medium rare steak and fries. you'll need all the protein you can get."
he hums, then gets out of the way so that ryan can get the dishes cleaned. you wait near the table, not rushing him yet. he needs time, as much as you still need it. but one of you needs to be the tough one, or you won't last. as soon as he makes his overthinking face, you are quick to grab his elbow and drag him with you.
"there's more to the ship than the bar and the lobby."
when back in the said lobby, you release his elbow and continue down a different path. the short, tube-like hallway is the same as the one before, this time leading into a different room.
"this is the storage. spare clothes, towels, hygiene supplies and such can be found here. further down, see that door? those are the showers. but there is a shower in each of the vip rooms. you can pick whichever room you want when we get there."
"sounds nice."
you show him the gym and the small terrarium, before continuing through the main door of the lobby. yeosang watches in awe as you take out a silver card from the pocket of your sleepwear top and scan it.
"where did you get that?"
"found it in the hibernation room when i woke up. it was locked in a little glass box, it said something like break in case of emergency. seemed emergency enough for me. sadly, it did not have any codes to operate the pods."
the circular door opens smoothly in a spiral, opening a whole new hallway. this one isn't like the previous ones. it is wide, and it rotates around its axis. and it doesn't have a floor. it is simply a tube. the door closes behind you when you step over threshold, and yeosang flinches.
"uh..."
"trust me. take my hand."
everything yeosang does recently is with hesitation. and you understand him, truly. but at least he has someone to guide him. you had nobody. once his hand slides into yours, you don't give him time to ask anything before jumping inside the tube. his heavy body floats in the air, following after you. you can't help the smile that spreads on your lips when yeosang looks up. his jaw is dropped, and his eyes shine orange under the sunlight.
he is speechless, face pressed against the rotating glass like a child against a store window. you swim over to him, also pressing your nose against the cold glass. he is witnessing the first sunset on a different planet, and his heart flutters at the sight.
"it is..." he starts, but doesn't finish.
"i know. there's no word for it, is there?"
"not really, no. beautiful? glorious? breathtaking? none of it seems enough to describe it. it is... strange. different. scary."
you hum, looking down at the dense clouds of the yellow planet. "our earth is so much more beautiful, though. couldn't live on such a dull planet."
"do you think anyone lives down there?"
you shrug, not having thought about it.
"do you think anyone lives on the planet where we are headed? just how advanced is our science and astronomy? for all we know, we could get crushed by a single step from some giant as soon as we land. then all of this was for nothing."
it is the first time you hear him talk more, and you don't dare interrupt him. he has a lovely voice, a deep tone with a soft lisp. you smile to yourself, wondering if anyone pointed that cute trait out to him.
"i guess it doesn't matter for the two of us anyway. not like we are going to live to see it."
"such a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"
he chuckles, sparing you a single glance before flying off to the other side. the planet is enormous, even with the distance the ship keeps with it. their home star seems tiny, but you know that it is just very far away. it might be stronger and way bigger than the sun you know.
"how fun would it be if a fleet came rushing to the ship and they imprisoned us? made us work for them and all?"
"yeosang!"
almost half an hour later, you had to peel yeosang from the windows that were now full of face and finger prints. he whines, but doesn't have much power over his body like you do. you learned to navigate the zero gravity spaces, while he is just getting used to them. you effortlessly pull him through the tube, taking one last glance at the yellow giant below the ship before landing on a floor again. he doesn't succeed, instead landing on his hands and almost his face. the door closes behind you, and smoke fills the small hallway.
"pressure stabilized. you may proceed."
"thank you!" you yell, skipping towards the new doors.
"they can... hear you?"
"huh? oh, no they can't. that's just the automatic system. but it is a habit of mine, to talk to these machines. i had to speak somehow, or to something, otherwise i would've lost it."
"understandable."
using the card, you open another door. each time you do, you are amazed at the mechanics. everything is very futuristic, and no door opens with a doorknob. they are either sensor or card activated, and they always open unusually. from those that spirally open, to those that slide up or down. you love the noises they make when they do so.
"these are the vip rooms. we still have to figure out how we will use the card, since there is only one and you need it to move around. i can unlock the room you want so you don't have to look for me every time you want to go to your room, but that's all the card can unlock. i'll check with ryan if we can duplicate it for other doors."
"he was incapable of pushing a few buttons, think he can replicate a whole card?"
"doesn't hurt to try. anyway, pick a room!" you hand him the card, motioning to the sensors near the doors. "feel free to check out each one of them."
he wants to take the first one, without exploring the rest. but you pressure him into seeing others, claiming there might be better ones. truth is, you've claimed the best one for yourself. but he doesn't need to know that.
"oh, wow." he breathes out, entering the last room at the far end.
it has a simple white bed, already made with pillows and sheets, a desk and a few shelves above it. it has a door that leads to his own bathroom, and a small dresser. a circular window just above the bed takes yeosang's attention again. he smiles, then turns towards you.
"this one."
"you sure?"
"positive. i'd love to wake up to that view every morning."
"then, it is settled. you have your own bathroom and shower, so you won't have to go out all the way back to the lobby. there's also a minibar, it gets restocked once every two weeks for now. but i found a way to change it. it's just a few drinks and snacks."
he nods, still taking in the room.
"anyways, i'd like to call it a day. the cockpit will have to wait. you should refresh yourself, there is towels in the drawers under the bed and spare clothes in the dresser. it's only sleepwear, but fresh. the dirty clothes go in that bin by the door, it gets automatically dumped in the washing machine in the storage room every morning."
"wow, you've really done some exploring."
"guess i have. have fun. i'll unlock the room, then i'll be right across the hall if you need me."
"thank you, y/n."
a few days later, a knock wakes you up. you glance at the watch, and seeing that it is three in the morning, you groan.
"yes?"
"are you awake?"
"now i am."
"sorry."
you stay silent, waiting for him to continue. but he doesn't. you hear shuffling outside the door, then footsteps. you roll your eyes before dragging your body out of the comfortable bed. you open the door, only to find him very much awake and dressed in fresh clothes, on his way back to his room.
"what is it?"
"what's the time?" he turns around at your voice.
"three in the morning."
"oh."
you stare at each other in silence for a few moments. you raise an eyebrow, amused with his behaviour. "well?"
"right. i was bored. i don't know what to do. i can't sleep."
"then... go to the gym?"
"i forgot how to get there. is there anything else to do? where did you get that book you were reading?"
"ah, the library"
"there's a library?!"
"um, yes. not many books, though. mostly classics, only a small young adult and fantasy section. a few comics here and there. it is on the other side of the ship, though. want to borrow mine until tomorrow?"
his cheeks flush at the sight of the book, remembering the themes of it. a little reading can't hurt. besides, he hasn't had any activity in a while. not with himself either.
"sure."
"want to hang here while you read? if you start feeling sleepy you can just sleep in that other bed." you offer, gesturing towards the bed across the one you have occupied.
"sure, if you don't mind."
"make yourself comfy. the minibar is still stocked, feel free to take anything."
it doesn't take long for you to jump back into bed, warming it up and scrunching the pillow beneath your head. it is just not high enough. with your head turned towards the window, you can see yeosang's reflection. he sits cutely on the bed, back pressed against the slightly curved wall and knees pressed to his chest. his blonde locks fall over his eyes, and he blows upwards every now and then to remove them. you smile to yourself before dozing off.
the second time you are woken up, it is by soft whimpers coming from behind you. a wave of heat washes over your body, seeing the reflection in the window. yeosang lays on the bed, the book halfway finished but discarded on the floor next to the bed. he bucks his hips into his hand, which is wrapped around his pretty pink cock. the veins on his hands are bulging, like the ones on his cock, and you have to fight every urge in you to not jump on him.
you shiver at his moans, getting louder and more... pathetic. carefully, your hand slides from under the pillow and under the blanket, reaching the heat between your legs. he chokes on his own moans, gasping and whining more as he works his way to an orgasm. your other hand sits on your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping. you don't tease yourself, there is no need. you are wet enough for your fingers to slide inside of you easily, and you immediately start pumping.
light squelching is heard in the small room, and you are not sure if it is him or you. either way, the noises are driving you insane, and you hate that you cannot quicken your pace.
yeosang is a gorgeous man, and you found yourself having a crush on him the moment you saw him. but you never thought of him this way. he was just too sweet and innocent looking. now? seeing his veiny hands work on himself, pretty lips creating noises you didn't know men could make, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his face and neck, you might just be in trouble.
"fuck-" he whispers, hips becoming sloppier with each thrust.
you use the last few moments of his lack of attention before his orgasm to speed up your fingers, inching yourself closer and closer, until a wave of pleasure washes over you and blurs your vision for a moment. you bite into your hand, legs squeezing shut from the intense pleasure. you did touch yourself occasionally during these few weeks, but nothing was as strong and intense as this. and none of it was because of yeosang.
you realize you missed his orgasm, and can't help but frown. you would've loved to see it. his pretty eyes rolling back, and his breathing getting shallow as he loses himself to pleasure. he has already composed himself while you were still getting down from your high. he stands up, puts the book on the nightstand near your bed, then makes his way back to your bathroom.
by the time he comes back, you are already asleep from exhaustion.
"tell me about yourself." he says the next morning.
"ask away." you respond, already out of breath.
the treadmill was never your friend. yeosang had joined you right after you warmed up, and you were the one blushing this time. every time you look at him, you see his sweaty face from last night. not a sight to complain about, but you could've done without it.
"i don't know. favorite colour? movie? song? are there such things on the ship?"
"there is a selection of songs. a couple from each period, as samples to show if there is anyone where we are going. well, they. and a few movies, i think. also some popular ones from each period. they have game of thrones, too."
"ah, i never watched it."
"really? i started it on the ship. didn't know what else to do. i am not watching the godfather or star wars again. so far it seems good. jon snow is to die for."
yeosang looks at you, confused. "i don't know who that is."
"if you want to watch with me, i'll show you. i haven't shown you the theater yet anyway."
you stop the treadmill, jumping off it and sitting on the floor for a moment. your legs burn, but it is satisfying discomfort. you wait for yeosang to dismount the stationery bicycle, not looking at his bottom whatsoever. not fair how it is better shaped than yours. he is speaking to you, but you are busy admiring his body. he always hides under the loose sleepwear, this is the first time you see him properly. he wears a tight athletic fit, showing off his broad shoulders and thin waist.
"is that okay?"
"what?" you accidentally yell, then slap your hand over your mouth.
he laughs, running his fingers through his damp hair and glancing at you over his shoulder. "i asked if you want to have dinner? i know we usually skip it from lack of moving during the day, but i am going to be here for a while. i'm going to need some food before bed."
"of course. i was thinking the same. any dress code?" you joke.
"i mean, you can dress fancy. why not? who's stopping us?"
"what, are you going to wear, like, a tuxedo or something?"
"i'll figure something out." he gets off the bicycle, sending you a playful wink.
you find yourself blushing under his gaze, but you do not look away. he is just too mesmerizing to look at. where has this man been hiding down on earth?
"need help getting up?"
"uh, i think i might skip the bike. my legs are too shaky. i'll stay on the floor for a while."
"you'll catch a cold. come here."
without a warning, his hands position themselves on your waist, and so effortlessly pick your aching body up. you hold onto his shoulders, flabbergasted. there is no motive, other than being helpful, but you can't help the sudden rush you feel between your legs. imagining him manhandling you, throwing you around as he likes, wrapping his hand around your neck as you struggle to breathe and beg him for more.
"i'll help you." he sets you down on the yoga mat, then gently pushes you to lay down. "you have to warm up more and stretch yourself."
"if i start warming myself up more, i won't have the energy for a proper exercise."
"come on, don't be dramatic. i'll show you now, alright?"
"fine."
you lay back, eyes looking up at the open ceiling. millions of white and yellow dots glimmer all across the dark void. yeosang's hands slide from your waist to your leg, gently rubbing the thigh. he puts light pressure on it, and it only increases the muscle pain. but you trust him, so you let him continue. he does the same to your other thigh, and repeats the process with your calves. he then sets his hands on your ankles, slowly pushing your feet across the mat until your knees are propped up. he doesn't stop there, picking your ankles off the floor and slowly pressing your knees to your chest.
"oh, fuck me." you gasp in pain, shutting your eyes and reaching for something to hold onto.
your fingers can't grasp the tight fabric of the athletic shirt, so you resort for digging your nails into his shoulders. he holds you in that position for a few moments, then slowly releases and straightens your legs out again. then again, and again, until you are sweating with pain.
"you're doing good," he hushes, "just a bit more. you can handle it for me, can't you?"
"i guess, yeah."
"good girl."
before you can respond with anything other than a grunt, yeosang presses your knees against your chest one more time, this time leaning his body against you. his body is firm, and big. he hovers over you, his crotch dangerously close to yours. if you moved just a few inches, you'd be grinding on him. he stays still for a moment, not breaking eye contact as he causes delicious pain, and you can't help but think about other ways he could stretch you.
"does it hurt?" he whispers.
"a little." you respond with an equal quiet voice.
"i'll get you used to it, don't worry."
it doesn't feel like he is talking about the warmup anymore. but you decide not to risk it. he could really mean it in an innocent and helpful manner, and you would be the lust driven fool who has ruined the only friendship you are going to have in your life. you remove your hands from his shoulders, then gently press them against his chest to push him away. he doesn't budge, but takes the message and moves himself. he is so much stronger than he looks, and it drives you crazy. such an angelic face, with such a sculpted body.
"i think i'll finish early today. if i continue, i won't have the strength to even dress for the dinner, let alone reach the restaurant."
"alright, then. eight tonight?"
"sounds good. got your card?"
he retrieves the shiny item from his back pocket and flashes it your way. "right here."
"great. i'll see you tonight, then. with my fancy clothes." you laugh, picking up the items you have scattered around the gym.
"ditto."
you raid the storage room, looking for anything that is not gym clothes or sleepwear. roaming around the ship, you find the luggage room. hundreds of bags, all full to the brim. you're sure they won't mind if you borrow something. not your fault your father made you pack simple childish clothes and only a handful of makeup.
eight o'clock rolls around quickly, and you may or may not be running late. your room is a mess, makeup scattered all over the desk and nightstand, and clothes piling up on the bed. you do not know what you've pulled from what bag. it's not like you'll be alive to hear them confront you anyway. you had heard yeosang's door shut ten minutes ago, and no matter how much you rush, it seems that everything is working against you. your hair was frizzier than ever, and you hated having it any other way than down. tonight, however, you do not wish to look like you just woke up and forgot about the dinner. you resort for a simple hairclip, pulling out a few strands of hair to frame your face. finally, you feel decent enough to leave the room.
yeosang hears the clicking of shoes, then stands up. his jaw drops at the sight, and he almost forgets to talk. he hasn't seen you with your hair up, ever, not in the gym either. you had some sort of a loose braid, but loose and messy enough to look how you normally do your hair. your face is exposed completely, along with your neck. yeosang was never one to gawk at a woman, but the way the deep red colour of the evening gown complimented your skin and the fabric hugged your curves had him stuttering. your lips had a red tint, with a hint of glitter, both matching the dress. the dress sparkles under the lights as you walk over to him, like the stars yeosang looks at all day and night.
"don't you look handsome." you smile.
he wears a loose, slightly see through black shirt, with nothing underneath. your mouth waters at the sight of the outline of his chest and abs. you so desperately want to run your nails down his torso. he also wears black slacks, and polished black shoes. his hair is tamed, falling in soft blonde locks around his face and showing his eyes properly.
"you look... uh-" his gaze roams your body, up and down multiple times. it lingers on your lace up heels, and if you looked at him for just a bit longer, you would see the way he gulped and licked his lips. "you look dashing."
"thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet."
he pulls out the chair for you, and that simple act already gives you butterflies. as you sit and look at the menu, as if it's your first time seeing it, you can't help but think whether this is a date. you fear to ask. two people looking good and sitting down for dinner doesn't always mean a date, right? even when they keep blushing at each other every few moments?
"are those your clothes?" you ask, chewing on the appetizer.
"no, actually. borrowed them from some guy named seonghwa, i think it said on the bag. he has good taste. i might borrow more things from him once in a while. what about you? that dress has to be yours, it looks like it was made for you."
"i borrowed it from some lady. seems that she only took evening gowns with her. from all of this, only the hair clip is mine."
yeosang nods, shoving a bruschetta in his mouth. "you look pweffy wif your hair up."
"what?" you laugh, taking the last appetizer from the sharing plate.
"i said..." he swallows, "you look pretty with your hair up. you should wear it like that more often."
"will do, sir."
two hours of eating, conversing and laughing later, you drag yeosang from his seat to dance. it has to be the prosecco speaking, because you would never ask him such a thing sober. especially because you can't dance.
"there is no music," he stands in front of you, hands resting on your waist.
he is slightly tipsy, but the sober one between the two of you. you wrap your hands around his neck, and call ryan.
"yes, miss?"
"put on some music, please."
"right away, miss. do you wish for anything specific?"
"play something by elvis."
even though you claim you can't dance, your body moves itself to the soft rhythm of the music. you sway your hips and move your feet to match the blonde man. both of you still have hands firmly planted on the others body, and eyes locked with each other. this time, neither of you look away. something about this moment is so beautiful, and so sad. you have each other, but are alone. you try to make the best out of the situation, but both of you are terrified. you have only learned to mask it well so you can keep each other strong.
but tonight, neither of you holds back tears. you let them freely spill, feeling vulnerable in each others arms. you tremble under his touch, afraid to let go. his thumb grazes your cheek, wiping the new tears away and caressing your skin in the process. this time, it is his turn to comfort you. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug while still swaying to the rhythm of the music. his head rests in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your exposed skin. you have your head buried into his chest, while your hands rest on his back and fingers scrunch the light material of the shirt.
"you smell nice." he compliments softly.
you scoff through tears. "it's a new shampoo."
"macadamia?"
"yeah. was feeling like autumn today."
"i like it. better than my old spice supply."
it feels comforting to silently cry into his chest. after being the one comforting him and staying strong for a long time, it is his turn to cheer you up. he holds your face in his hands, thumbs relentlessly wiping tears away.
"as beautiful as you look even when you cry, i'll have to interrupt with a fun discovery i've made a few days ago."
your cheeks heat up at the compliment. nobody has ever told you anything like that. even at your lowest, he makes you feel pretty.
"a discovery?"
"yeah. i saved it for tonight. come with me." the brown eyed man smiles at you before offering his hand for you to take.
"but slow down, these heels are quite uncomfortable." you accept his warm hand, taking it like you were made for it.
he stays still for a few moments, gaze locked on the black platform heels. a squeal leaves your lips when yeosang takes your body in his hands, carrying you bridal style. you hold onto his neck, and press your head against his shoulder for support.
"wait, the card! i left it on the table."
yeosang makes his way back to the table, then lowers you enough for you to grab the card. you playfully put it between your teeth, then wrap your arms around his neck again. as he walks, you nearly drift off on his shoulder. the soft clicking of his shoes against the floor, his scent, and his occasional humming gives you a sense of serenity. he smells of vanilla and bourbon, and it is a big refreshment from all the ocean breezes and sport rushes. seeing him order the glass of bourbon made your stomach flutter, as you were used to men only ordering beer or a rum-coke. he took small sips of it, a complete opposite to you who finished two glasses before getting to desert. the third one we shall not mention.
you feel him stop, and you open your eyes. you look at a door you've never seen before. looking around, you notice lockers lined up on the wall and a screen hanging in the middle of the room.
"i'll put you down now."
he sits you on the bench under the screen, then crouches in front of you and reaches for the card still nestled between your teeth. you move your head away, sitting on your hands. he scoffs, then reaches again. but you are stubborn. you move your head away once again, causing him to sigh and rest his hands on your knees for support.
"can i have the card please?"
you finally lean in, getting to his eye level. his eyes watch your lips sparkle, just like the card that is stuck between them. the tips of his ears become hot again, and he is glad that his hair is covering them today.
finally getting the hint, the man sighs, playing annoyed. he leans in, hands squeezing your knees, before he takes the other end of the card in his teeth. you almost giggle out loud, not actually expecting him to do that. he takes his sweet time retrieving it, slowly pulling it from your mouth and keeping his gaze locked with yours. you finally let go, accidentally leaving a red lip stain on your side of it.
he then transfers it to his hand, while using his other one to poke your forehead. "you really are something."
"that's right, poke the weak."
"you're going to have to take your heels off for this."
you groan, throwing your head back dramatically. "do i have to?"
"why, too lazy?"
"maybe."
yeosang rolls his eyes, then takes your leg and places it over his lap. his fingers place the card back between his teeth, this time the side with your lipstick on it. something about the whole situation is insanely intimate, and you might beg him to just chain you up on the side of the ship so you don't do anything. he begins untying the laces of the heel, making sure to graze your skin accidentally with his knuckles. you feel his warm breath on your skin, and can't help but squeeze your thighs together. it is only then you realize that he can see up your dress. but he chooses not to.
"you do it so naturally. do you usually take girl's heels off?"
a pinch to your thigh causes you to jump and yelp, and you use your other leg to gently bump his shoulder with the tip of the heel. he doesn't react, only smirking to himself while still looking down and working on the halfway undone lace. you repeat the action, feeling mischievous and set on seeing what he'll do. on the third bump, yeosang grabs your ankle, yanking it forward along with your body and looks up at you.
your legs are now slightly spread, and he can easily look if he wanted to. but he still doesn't. his eyes stay locked with yours, no longer a playful glint in them. his pupils are dilated, causing his eyes to appear darker than usual. a gulp goes down your throat painfully slow, realization hitting you. he might not like this type of teasing and joking, and you might've pushed it too far. after all, he is trying to do a nice thing for you here. he is crouching on the ground for you, for god's sake.
"stay still." he almost growls, voice low and stern.
you nod, your eyes falling down on the leg in his lap. then, you notice the bulge in his pants. he might not be as angry as you thought after all. you stifle a smirk and decide to sit still and make it easier for him.
the man finally takes off one of your heels, and when you want to set your bare foot on the floor, he keeps it still in his lap. the tiles are cold, he says. he works on the other one, taking his sweet time while you admire the room.
you wonder what it is, and where he is taking you. the room gently sways in your eyes, or it might just be you. whatever it is, you trust him.
"feeling better?" he rubs your red and bruised soles. as comforting as it feels, you have to remove them before you drip through your dress and on the bench.
no man was ever this gentle and caring with you. yeosang doesn't even have that kind of relationship with you, and he is already way ahead of all the men you've ever been with. you might've just hit the jackpot with him. spending your life on this ship alone with him doesn't seem like the worst way to live.
"yes, better. thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet. who taught you how to be a gentleman?"
"my sister. that dumbass." he scoffs.
he then proceeds describing how he learned from her horrible boyfriends. they were always selfish, and she always felt alone even when she was in a relationship. she mostly felt used, ignored, and a second choice. yeosang would witness them coming home, doing the deed, then leaving because they had plans with the boys. she cried often, and even though she always slammed the door in yeosang's face whenever he wanted to comfort her, she was grateful that he won't grow up to be like them.
"your sister sounds nice. i've only had asshole brothers."
"well, none of them are in our way now. my sister won't suffer for another nine hundred years, and you won't see your asshole brothers for the rest of your life."
you continue rambling about how strict your father always was, how your mother only listened and rarely ever defended you against his accusations and your brothers' bullying, and how you had to hide every relationship and never got to enjoy them properly. although, now that you think about it, you had the same experience as his sister. you are glad not to be stuck with someone like them.
"now, wear this for me. there's a changing room right there. and don't ask. i promise, it will be worth it."
you feel like a child after coming out of the dressing room, standing up when he tells you, turning around and facing a certain direction. you both wear tight black clothes, and he checks the screen every now and then. once he makes sure that you are wearing the clothes properly, he opens one of the lockers.
"no." your jaw drops in disbelief.
"yes." he says, happily pulling out an astronaut suit.
"yeosang, that- is that safe? i mean, you're not thinking about leaving the ship, are you? this is just dress up, isn't it?" you ramble.
"it is perfectly safe. you told me once to trust you. now, it's your turn to trust me. why do you get to show me the cool stuff around here, but i don't get to do that for you?"
"yes, but... this is outside the ship. it's open space!"
yeosang helps you put the suit on, despite your ranting. you hold onto his shoulders while you put your legs in the boot part of the suit, then your arms until yeosang zips it up. it feels like you already have dozens of layers on you. he stifles a chuckle, and you squint at him.
"what is it?"
"you look like a penguin."
"yeah, well, so do you."
"i know. you just look cute."
he turns around to grab the gloves and helmet, leaving you to blush by yourself while he finishes zipping himself up. he brought back the fear you had forgotten about; fear of the unknown and stranded. at least if something happens, you are not alone.
"head up." you do so, and he connects an oxygen and communication system to the suit, then rolls up the collar of the undersuit so that it protects your neck and head, leaving only your face visible. "good girl."
"you need to stop saying that." you blurt out.
"and you need to stop teasing me every few minutes. there is only so much i can take."
"you're the one to talk! you always-"
"hey." his hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at him and stopping your complaining. "behave. or else."
"or else...?" you whisper, the prosecco still pulling the worst in you.
he leans in, noses almost touching and lips close enough to feel his warmth on yours. he looks into your eyes, then down at your lips, still holding your jaw in his hand. "or else i might just have to tame you somehow."
you gulp audibly. he smirks at that, then lets go of you and proceeds to put your helmet on. you feel frustrated. he is playing your game, and he is winning. you are supposed to make him blush and stutter, not the other way around.
"there, all fixed. can you breathe?"
"yes."
"can you hear me?"
"duh."
"through the system, dummy." he laughs, tapping on the wire that connects inside the suit.
"ah, yes. i can."
"good. i hope you don't have to pee."
"don't remind me of that! i had half a bottle of prosecco and am wearing like a hundred layers."
"good. no more pee talk. let's do this."
yeosang slides the card on the door, and enters the small space. when it closes, the space fills with smoke and lots of lights start going off and on.
"pressure stabilized."
"thank you!" he yells, playful smile dancing on his lips.
with a frown, you hit his arm for mocking you. he gently nudges you, as if pushing you away. you both know that if he wanted to, he could've pushed you way harder. and it makes you a little horny.
just in time, yeosang slides the card near the other door, then puts the card safely in the suit pocket and zips it. the round door opens, sliding up and revealing the dark void. instinctively, you grab his hand with two of yours. clinging to him like a sloth, you stand on the edge of the spaceship and look down. it strange that when you step over the threshold, no gravity will pull you down.
"wait!" you stop him before he steps over. "have you done this already?"
"uh... yes? i mean, i didn't go far or stay long. i think i hung for a few seconds from that handle and rushed back in. was scared shitless, honestly."
"you fool!" you hit him again, multiple times.
"ow! hey, what, what?!"
"you went to test it alone? you could've- you could've injured yourself! or worse! something could've gone wrong, and i would be all alone again!"
"you didn't think i'd bring you here before seeing if it's safe, did you? what if only one of us survived, the other would have to live with that guilt until the end of their life." he explains, holding you by your shoulders and gently shaking you as he speaks. "i know we've known each other only for a little over a month now, but i'd never do that to you. we only have each other, and i'd never do anything to leave you alone on this thing. i promise."
"promise?" your bottom lip quivers.
he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his helmet against yours, as if leaning his forehead. "i promise."
"i believe you."
"good. otherwise, this would be a very bad idea."
with that, he pulls you over the edge, holding onto the handle on the outer surface of the ship. you squeal, legs wiggling in the unknown and arms firmly wrapped around his free one. he holds you close, not yet moving until he is sure that everything looks fine.
"i'll let go now, alright?"
"what if we drift away?"
"we won't, i tied us up to the ship. we can get back whenever we want."
you give yeosang only a few minutes of silence, before bombarding him with questions again. he answers every single one he knows, assuring you that he has everything under control. using the moment when you are focused on something on your space suit, he slowly lets go of the handle. as soon as you feel yourself drifting away, you glue yourself to his side, even going so far to wrap your legs around his.
"y/n, you'll have to let me go. i can't move like this."
"i'm scared."
"you want to go back?"
"no."
"then," he peels you away from himself, instead holding your hand properly in his. "let go."
you now float in the void, holding his hand and admiring the ship from the outside.
"you're looking the wrong way, doll. turn around."
due to the strange and spine-chilling situation you are in, you miss his little nickname directed at you. with his help, you slowly turn your back to the ship, and focus on the newfound space.
"look, down there." he points to the side.
"oh my god!" you exclaim, fear and excitement mixing inside of you. "what is that?!"
it is a bright, giant cloud of shiny dust. it has a light pink hue and a faded purple in the center.
"it's a nebula." he simply says.
"aren't they more colorful? i mean... that's just looks like a space cloud. it's nothing like the photos they send to us."
"ah, those images are taken with long exposure to capture all the lights, and edited later. our eyes cannot process all of those colours, so they sometimes add them on later."
"oh. well, nevertheless, it is stunning. it looks so glorious. i want to touch it."
"no, y/n, you can't touch the remains of a dead star."
"but why not?" you play along, acting like the spoiled child.
both of you laugh, holding onto each other and staring at the beauty of this frightening place.
"how did they calculate the trajectory? what if they missed some asteroid or something?"
"please don't talk about asteroids while we pathetically hang from a space ship in the void. i beg."
"sorry," you smile sheepishly.
"had enough? want to go back?" he asks, checking on your suit.
"not yet."
"want to go a bit furth-"
a snap interrupts him, coming from the ship. before you can look that way, yeosang pushes you away from him just in time, and you scream. a white object passes between the two of you, close enough to hit you. another snap is heard, then another. you finally look at the ship, right before more objects start flying at you. one of the smaller debris hits you, right in the helmet, sending your body further away. a few moments of silence pass, both you and yeosang going through shock. until you hear slight wheezing, and feel cool air on your face.
one of the boards on the surface on the ship must've come loose and broke into pieces. you gasp, body and soul reaching for the man now far away from you.
"i'm coming!" he man yells, panicked. but the communication starts glitching. it cuts off his words, and soon enough, you can't hear him anymore.
the air becomes harder to breathe, and lack of oxygen could kill you, if fear doesn't do it first. your vision becomes spotty, and yeosang's figure slowly starts blending in with the nebula behind him. you try covering the crack with your hand, and it helps for a short amount of time. you accidentally apply more pressure on it, causing the helmet to further break and wheezing intensify. the system begins to go crazy, sending you signals and urging you to get back on the ship. dozens of beeping noises, red lights and whatnot going off in your suit, yet all you can focus on is yeosang's failed attempts to reach you.
"yeosang..." you call, hoping he might answer.
but he doesn't, instead working with his arms and legs to get to you.
"keep... eyes... open... please..." his voice echoes inside the helmet, broken and mixed with robotic sounds. "take... hand... try... reach..."
"i can't," you breathe out, eyes closing. it is the last thing he hears from you.
"no!"
your vision blackens, and you stop the squirming, instead letting your body in the control of the cosmos. maybe that's how it was supposed to be from the beginning. no escaping doomsday, no ships, no wandering in the void, no claiming other planets. maybe humans were supposed to be the ones with limited knowledge. they weren't meant to go this far. or maybe the human race is simply that insignificant, compared to everything else. just a small, useless percent among the stars. the universe will stand, and continue being terrifyingly beautiful and endless, with or without us.
it feels like the right way to go. a punishment, for escaping your fate and leaving others to die a terrible death.
"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, god i'm so sorry."
you couldn't have known, yeosang.
"i should've known, i should've stayed inside."
there was no way for you to know, yeosang.
"i should've died the first time i went, so you know not to do that."
don't speak such things, yeosang. maybe it was meant to be this way from the beginning.
"you don't deserve this, i do."
if you knew what i did, you would know that nobody deserves this like i do.
"please don't die on me, please. what do i do without you?"
you'll make it. you'll just have to do what i did. but you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life.
"none of it makes sense without you."
you'll hate yourself every time you look at their face. like i hate myself when i look at you.
"i- i think i love you. i don't think i'll make it without you."
i wish i could say it back without the guilt eating up my heart. i wish i could say all of this out loud to you, and not in my head. and yes, you will make it, yeosang.
kang yeosang hasn't eaten in days. the restaurant remains empty, as does the gym, and the discovered library, although with a few empty shelves. he sits on the cold floor of the emergency room, books scattered around him and one nestled in his hand.
"it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. however little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." he reads, voice raspy and tired.
there is a pile to his right, and a smaller one to his left. he reads from morning to night, even though the stars and moons do not show it. he sits there, reading page after page, all to you who lay on the bed in the middle. he lowers the book after a while, glancing at your sleeping body.
"you know, if you've already read pride & prejudice, i can skip it. now that i think of it, you might've already read everything i read to you these days. sorry. must be torture."
already used to not getting replies from you, he sets the book down with a sigh. he folds the corner of the page, marking where he stopped reading. if you were awake, a poke to his forehead would be guaranteed, if not worse. he laughs, remembering the first time you discovered he did that.
"i'm sorry, are you ill? what the hell are you doing to my books?!"
"first of all, they're not yours. second, it's just a book. and third, to answer your question: i'm folding the corner."
"my lord, i have just lost all my respect for you. please exit my chambers."
"gosh, stop reading game of thrones already. if i get called lord one more time, i'm jumping into the nearest black hole."
"i am the queen of the ship, i do as i wish."
"and what does that make me?"
"you can be my queen hand."
"not your king consort?"
"ha! you wish. your house and blood is no match for mine, yeosang of house kang."
"whatever you say, your grace."
yeosang had forgotten about his own room. he hung out with you all day, and slept in the bed opposite to yours. for the first time in a while, he didn't think about what's outside, and what fate awaits him. he enjoyed the moment, enjoyed making you laugh and pissed. he loved how you could switch from giggly to angry in a split second, only from him tickling you too much.
now? he can tickle you as much as he wants, but you won't budge. you breathe, but you don't show any other signs of consciousness. he has raided every room there is, looking for any medical help in any form. he asked ryan, though he should've known better than that. i am not programmed for that kind of procedure, sir. yeosang already knew that sentence before it was said. it took everything in him to not smack the robot, but he heard your voice in the back of his head, defending the soulless thing.
he stands up, setting the book aside on the pile that is waiting to be read. he approaches the circular table, where he has laid you, stripped you of the heavy spacesuit and only left the first layer of tight clothes, then covered you with a light blanket. he managed to connect a few tubes to your body, following the instructions on the screen above the table. he can now see your vitals, he just doesn't know what to do with it. he relies on the ai, hoping it is right.
"if you do not wake up soon, my queen, i will take your throne," he jokes, tapping a damp cloth on your forehead. "then what will you do?"
he unbuttons his silk sleep shirt and stays in his white tank top, suddenly feeling hot inside the room. he folds it on the table next to your head, and pushes the hair out of your face. the system beeps above his head, showing increased heartrate. he looks down at you, searching for any sign of consciousness other than breathing.
"can you hear me?"
your heartrate goes back to normal, dimming yeosang's hope. he finishes wiping the sweat off your forehead and neck, then gently squeezes your hand before sitting back on the floor and resuming his reading.
when he wakes up, he finds himself in his own room. how he got there, he could not recall. but he left your side, after he promised himself to not do that ever again. almost jumping out of bed, the man dashes down the halls, the shiny card in his hand still holding your lipstick stain as he presses it against the various door sensors. he reaches the emergency room in record time, and his heart almost stops. you aren't there.
the tubes once attached to your body now lie on the floor, and the blanket is neatly folded on the table. his sleep shirt is gone, along with the book he wasn't done reading to you. hands hurriedly rubbing his eyes, yeosang fails to process what happened. he rushes through the rest of the ship, searching every nook and cranny in hopes of seeing your face. even going to the place he has been avoiding for the past few days. the spacesuits and helmets still lay on the floor, forgotten. the cracked one delivers a pang to the blonde man's heart, a painful reminder of his careless acts and their consequences.
hopeless, he reaches one final spot. the cockpit.
he had promised you not to go there without you, and the other way around. both of you were waiting for a perfect opportunity, when both of you are sober and wide awake. that never happened.
yeosang breaks his promise, holding the card to the sensor. the doors slide open, revealing the long awaited cockpit. two tall chairs stand side by side, separated by a narrow control panel. in front of the chairs is a wider and more detailed control panel. and above it all, a panoramic window. the ship is flying through a nebula, its vivid colours taking yeosang aback. bright shades of orange, yellow and blue envelop the ship, reflecting in yeosang's wide eyes.
"you said that the colours are edited on photos. how dare you lie to your queen?"
the man steps back, recognizing your voice.
"y/n?"
"yes?" one of the chairs turns around, and you sit in it. with a smile on your lips, the lost book in your hand, and his sleep shirt hanging from your body. but all he sees is your face.
he exhales, relief washing over his body like never before. not able to control himself, he rushes towards you, picking you up from the chair and enveloping you in his arms. the book falls to the floor, your arms flying to return the hug. it never felt as right as now.
"gosh, how did you get here by yourself? are you hurt?" he sets you on the floor, cupping your face in his big palms. "are you alright?"
"i'm fine. a little dizzy."
"i thought i lost you."
not able to stop himself, yeosang presses his lips against your forehead. he stays there, inhaling your scent and listening to your breathing. your hands slide down from his neck and find their place on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. it beats fast, almost matching yours. he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours properly this time, not through a helmet.
"how dare you leave me alone?"
"is that a way to speak to your queen?"
he chuckles at your jokes, even in such moments. he should get used to it by now. his thumbs rub your cheekbones, soothing you and making whatever worry you had left perish. you can't help the tears that prickle your eyes when you look at him. his are as red and glossy, and it takes you over the edge.
you climb on your toes, properly reaching his face. his heart beats faster under your palm, as if threatening to jump out. slowly, and with a bit of hesitation, you press your lips against his. it is a mere two second kiss, before you pull away. you search his face for any emotions; disapproval, disgust, discomfort. yet none of those are present.
he has his eyes shut, still taking in the kiss. you want to pull away, to give him space. but his hands slide down to your waist, pressing your body against his. he leans in again, capturing your lips with his. his kiss is an opposite to yours: confident and sure. he pecks your lips once, twice, again and again, until you finally relax in his arms and let your hands roam his body. fingers finding comfort in his blonde locks, and body pressed firmly against his, you kiss him like it's your last.
his grip intensifies, his fingers buried into your sides as yours gently pull on his hair. he picks you up, only to set you back into the chair you've been sitting in all this time. he easily finds the button to lower the backrest and turn it into a temporary bed, then climbs on it with you. his lips are hungry for yours, and even though you could use a moment of breathing, you do not stop him. allowing yourself another moment of bravery, you gently lick his bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss. and the man listens. he opens his lips, tongue in search for yours while your hands play with the collar of his tank top on his back. you slide one hand underneath, feeling his hot skin on yours.
gently, yeosang grazes your tongue with his, and you taste salty liquid on his lips. tears fall down both your faces, drops rolling down your cheeks and mixing in your mouths with the kiss. it is emotional, passionate, and intimate in every way. he pulls away for a split second, only to take a breath and look at you.
his chest rises and falls heavily, and his lips are plump and a deep pink. his hair is ruffled, your doing. he already looks breathtaking.
"is that... my sleep shirt?" he finally notices.
"oh, yeah. i was feeling a bit chilly, i borrowed it. want it back?"
"no, you can- oh."
you sit up, enough to let the white silk material slide off your skin and pool on the chair. you had stripped yourself from the tight undergarments yeosang had left you in, instead wearing a white bralette and matching lace panties. from the size of his sleep shirt, he didn't even notice that you weren't wearing the short bottoms you usually do.
the white has never complimented your skin as beautifully as today, right in this moment. yeosang can't help but remove your hair from your chest and neck, letting it fall back and exposing your body to him. you let him, taking your time in examining him as well. he runs his knuckles down your wet cheek, wiping the tears that decorate your face, and continues down your neck. his forefinger takes the lead, caressing your collarbones and making a path between your breasts.
you take his hand, guiding it to the outline of your panties. his breath seems to stop for a moment, but a gentle smile on your lips assures him that everything is alright. he groans, slamming his lips back on yours, this time sloppier and rougher. noses brushing against each other, teeth clashing, and hands hurriedly getting rid of clothes, it is all you've needed all this time.
him, all of him.
a thin layer of sweat coats his body, making his pale skin shine under the lights of the nebula. he peppers kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and settles on your collarbones.
"my queen," he whispers, then runs his tongue along your collarbone.
your fingers play with his damp locks, gently pushing his head towards you and inhaling his scent. he seems to have a fixation on the certain part of your body, because he can't help but mark it with purple spots. you hiss at the sweet pain, and yeosang is quick to lick your fresh wounds, as if apologizing for what he did.
he lingers around the area a bit more, switching between the crook of your neck and the collarbones, until he finally dips his head down to your breasts. a shiver runs down your spine when he cups them, giving them a gentle squeeze before kissing all over them. you tremble under his touch, hips desperately searching his for friction. but he lowers your body back on the chair, limiting your moves.
you forget just how strong he is, and him holding your body in place with a single hand reminds you how much he works on himself, even when his life has completely changed. a gasp escapes your lips as you feel the tip of his hot tongue circling your tense nipple. he catches it between his lips, gently sucking it while his other hand travels down your body. his short nails graze your skin, and you've never felt this sensitive in your life.
he pays attention to every inch of your body, showering it with love and passion, marking your skin as he goes and making you his in every way.
"yeosang-" you choke out, feeling him bite your lower stomach.
"yes?"
"please," you beg, running your nails down his bulk arms and shoulders.
"patience, love. you'll get where you want to. what's the rush? we have our own eternity."
the way he speaks in a hoarse voice has you seeing imaginary stars beside the real ones out the window. he pulls away from your body, just enough to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. he pulls you in for a kiss again, sighs of pleasure leaving both your mouths as you kiss and feel each other. his bare body finally leans against yours completely, and you instinctively spread your legs. his arm hooks under your knee, bending it over and caressing your thigh in the process.
"you're everything i've ever wished for." he whispers between kisses. "i just failed to see it. it took me losing you to understand that."
"yeosang..." his name rolls of your lips so sweetly in a light moan.
"i'm so sorry for what i did."
"don't apologize."
"i will. you almost died because of me."
"don't speak of that now," you hush him with another kiss.
he listens, putting his other hand on your other leg and gently spreading them. he falls to his knees, hands still firmly planted on your thighs. you try pushing them together, instinctively, but you should've known better than that. they stay in place under his grip, exposing your glistening core to his hungry eyes. it's almost like he can see the colorful dust cloud down there, the layer of arousal mimicking his sweat and reflecting the blue of the sky.
yeosang isn't in a rush, unlike you. your hand pathetically grips his hair, pushing his head towards your pulsating and burning core. he chuckles between your legs, cool air hitting your clit from the proximity.
"please?"
"what do you beg for, pretty?"
"don't tease me, i've waited long enough. please, yeosang."
"oh, but i've waited long too. and now that i am here, i want to take my sweet time. i want to devour you, feel all of you, to mould you so that you fit perfectly in my hands. i want to make love to you among the stars, and i want to make you feel like a real queen of the skies."
it's like he fell out of a book. he knows all the right words, all the right gestures, and all the right touches. his tongue dips between your folds, plush lips following and lazily caressing your clit. your fingers tighten their grip in his hair, and your other hand digs its nails into his shoulder for support. settling for soft and gentle licks, yeosang truly takes his time with you. he makes out with your folds, as if they're your real lips, sucking on them, grazing them with his teeth and kissing along your clit. you squirm under his painfully slow moves, grinding your hips on his face in hopes of getting more friction.
tired of your disobedience and impatience, yeosang places your legs over his shoulders, burying his head further into your core and switching to rougher moves. lewd noises escape your lips, and you do not try to conceal them. he should know what effect he has on you.
he slurps up your nectar, coating his lips in shiny fluid and enjoys your core essence. he eats you like a starved man, not bothering to take a proper breath. he sucks harshly on your clit, drawing moans and gasps from you. when he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips plump and glistening with your arousal. a thin string of saliva connects his mouth to your core, and you almost black out at the sight. you pull him by his hair, crashing your lips on his again. you taste yourself on his tongue, and even though you never liked reading about it or seeing it, it is something that you were truly missing out on.
you nudge him, asking him to switch positions. he smiles into the kiss, but turns you over so effortlessly. he is now the one laying down, and you are the one to break the kiss and get on your knees. you see him clearly for the first time. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, by taking it slow and teasing him. you kiss his thighs, ignore his aching area, and continue kissing his lower stomach. he can't help but reach for your hair, softly caressing it as you try your hardest to hold back, but seeing that he doesn't mind the delay, but rather enjoys it, you stop the teasing.
your tongue doesn't hesitate to lick a stripe up his hardened cock, circling around his tip and collecting the precum. he hums with pleasure, but doesn't close his eyes. he wouldn't miss this for anything. you take his red tip between your lips, slowly pushing until you almost touch his stomach. he twitches inside your hot mouth, the tip caressing the back of your throat and making your eyes tear up. finally, crying for a different reason.
unlike you, he doesn't buck his hips to speed up your moves. he is perfectly obedient, petting your head and muttering words of praise.
"that's a good girl," he whispers.
you bob your head up and down, testing the waters. he only sighs and hums, not yet moaning. your impatience wins again, your body eager to extract more dramatic sounds from him. you pull away from him, but not without a teasing kiss to his tip, before climbing into his lap.
"how do you want it, my queen?" he cups your face, and you're quick to nuzzle your cheek against his warm palm.
"i want it just like this. me on top."
"oh? didn't take you for one to be on top."
"i'll surprise you with so many things, kang yeosang. you just wait."
"that's my girl."
driven by pure lust and euphoria, you do not care about protection, or the aftermath. you simply raise your hips and align his cock with your clenching hole, then slide down on it. he slides in, inch by inch, deliciously stretching you and filling you to the brim. when you finally sit on it, both of you moan out, hands reaching for each other. his hands help you roll your hips, while your hands feel his torso and chest. you move, slowly, just the way he likes it.
the moans and sighs leaving his lips are the prettiest sounds you've ever heard. you stay silent, wanting to hear more of him. his eyes are fixed at the point where both of you are connected, pupils dilated as he watches your wet hole swallow him whole. the room is filled with squelching noises, the creaking of the chair, passionate kissing here and there, and neverending exclamations of pleasure.
you find yourself whining for release pretty quickly, the buildup already more intense than any of your previous orgasms. yeosang seems to be reaching his end as well, seeing his head hanging from the chair and exposing his pretty neck to you. you can't help but snake your hands up his torso, fingers finding the key pressure on his neck and gently pressing. he chokes out with surprise, sending you a single glance of pure ecstasy before letting his head fall back again.
the dried tears on his glowing face look majestic, along with his eyes rolled back and his hair a mess. he looks glorious under you, especially as his moans get more high pitched and needy. you feel yourself becoming tired, but you love the position too much to change.
"come on, love. fuck yourself dumb on my cock."
such vulgar words from such an angelic face make your insides quiver. it gives you a boost of energy, and you quicken your pace and bounce just like he told you to. he doesn't break eye contact with you, nor does he let you do all the work. his hips meet yours, reaching deeper inside and making you finally moan out loud. he sits up straight, pulling you close to him and holding your body in place so he can collide his hips with yours quicker and with more accuracy. you are a drooling mess, forehead pressed against his as you shamelessly moan into his lips.
"come on, angel. milk me dry like the good girl you are."
your walls squeeze around him, moans becoming whines and mewls.
"fuck, love- i'm going to fill you up-" he grunts, lips desperately chasing yours.
but both of you are too lust driven to kiss properly, so you settle for moaning into each others mouth and bite each others lips, all while chasing the sweet pleasure.
"my love..." he moans.
"yes-" you choke out, feeling the buildup getting ready to errupt.
"my fate..." he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.
"yeosang-" you sob, pathetically grinding your hips on his.
"my queen of cosmos."
the orgasm tears through you, erupting in your lower stomach and spreading to the edges of your body. warm liquid shoots inside you, and yeosang keeps rocking his hips to the point where he has your eyes rolled back and jaw dropped, no sound exiting your mouth. your nails leave marks on his back, shoulder and neck, just like your lips do on his. you bite down on his bottom lip, accidentally making it bleed. he hisses at the pain, but doesn't forget to help you ride out your orgasm. your moans bounce off the walls of the cockpit, filling yeosang's ears like heavenly music.
the man doesn't seem to get enough of you, because he lays you on your back and slides back inside you. you don't protest, instead relaxing your body and throwing you head back, much like he did. you let him praise you, use you, worship you. you could never handle more than one orgasm, yet kang yeosang has you moaning on the third one already. by the fourth one, you feel like you're drunk or on some kind of substances.
the vivid colours of the nebula never stop, dancing with each other and illuminating your bodies. yeosang kisses you, over and over, whispering sweet things into your ear and asking if you're good. you don't reply with words, but with a kiss to his forehead, nose, lips, whatever you could.
yeosang makes love to you until the ship swims out of the dust cloud, revealing the void littered with millions of glimmering dots once again. you've stopped counting after five, and let yourself go in his arms. maybe this was your fate after all.
or maybe you were kept alive just to confess to your wrongdoings to the man that has proclaimed his love to you. maybe your punishment is his kindness towards you, when you know you don't deserve it.
"i love you."
"i love you too, yeosang." you say it back, guilt still eating up your heart like the first time he said it, unaware that you could hear him.
the blonde haired man didn't have to try hard to get used to waking up beside you. it was his favorite part of the day for months now: waking up to your kisses, or the other way around. having breakfast together, going to the gym, then showering together. perhaps it was repetitive, but to yeosang, it was everything.
today, however, he woke up way before you. he has raided the luggage room, and created a mess until he found what he was looking for. you did your usual routines alone today, with yeosang busying himself with something else all day.
"i'd like to finish that book today, if you don't mind? i'll see you for dinner tonight."
"alright then. i'll miss you." you pout.
"i'll see you in a few hours, darling. fancy dress code?"
"sure! we haven't done that in a while. i can't wait."
and that's how yeosang found himself in the restaurant, spending two hours decorating the place with ryan's help.
"is the rose too much, ryan?"
"depends on the occasion, sir."
"let's say... proposal."
"i believe it is too little, sir."
"yeah, well, unless you can shit out a rose right here, i don't have much choice. i stole this one from the little terrarium in the lobby."
ryan doesn't respond, in his true robot style. yeosang sighs, lighting the candle on the table. you should be here any minute now.
"maybe i should've done it in the big terrarium." he overthinks.
"if i may, sir, the hibernation room would also be a meaningful place."
yeosang raises an eyebrow, amused. "hibernation room?"
"it's what started your new fate."
"ah, the broken pods. i guess i have to visit the engineers on board once, to thank them for that malfunction."
"oh, no need sir. you can thank miss y/n."
yeosang stops arranging the cutlery, looking at the humanoid robot. "what do you mean?"
"well, she is the one behind the malfunction. at least behind yours. so she is the one to thank."
"what?"
"oh, i thought you knew. apologies sir-"
"explain." he walks towards ryan, brows furrowed and hand fidgeting with the jewelry box in his pocket.
"i really shouldn't, sir. apologies, i-"
"you'll tell me," yeosang reaches for a glass of water, ready to pour it over the machine, "right. fucking. now."
"her pod was the only one that malfunctioned. yours was perfectly fine, sir. miss was lonely, and sad. she spent a whole week looking for a perfect match, and found you. she opened your lid, and rushed back to her room."
a crash, similar to the one on the very first day he woke up, echoes through the restaurant. yeosang turns around, finding your startled face looking at him and a broken bottle of wine by your feet.
you don't dare move, afraid of what he'll do. you have no excuse. and no shame.
he slowly steps towards you, causing you to step back. unlike the first day, his face doesn't give away anger. he is calm, and it scares you more. you wish he'd yell, push, throw. yet he doesn't, simply walking into your direction and stopping right in front of you, separated by a broken bottle. he steps in dark red liquid, the ruined shoes being the last thing on his mind.
"yeosang-" you whimper, his still face torturing you.
"don't."
"b-but-"
"do. not."
"you have to understand- i- i was just-"
his hand wraps around your neck, putting light pressure on it. "you took everything from me."
"yeosang, please."
"you do not get to cry. you do not get to feel my pity. you do not get to feel my mercy."
"please, understand me!"
"no!" he drops you on the floor. "i won't fucking understand you! i'd never do such a cruel thing to someone! have you felt no shame every time you looked at me? kissed me? comforted me when i cried about it?!"
pieces of glass tear your palms as you try to stand up, but fail. you sob on the floor, chest hurting from intensity. the glass shards dig into your thighs, and your dress soaks up the wine. you wipe your cheeks with your bloodied hand, accidentally smearing a few red drops on your face.
"here." he throws something in front of you before storming off.
you wail on the floor for what seems like hours. with your knees pressed to your chest, and your head resting on top of your knees, you cry. your dress is soaked with alcohol, tears and snot. you have no dignity left at this point. once you finally start calming down, you notice the plush box that lays discarded on the floor.
it reveals a stunning ring, with a simple stone in the middle. it looks like it was overgrown by vines, and is a rose gold colour. guess you can add it to the box with the broken necklace now. another relationship broken because of you.
days are longer than ever, with you waking up alone and eating alone. that is all you do, besides an occasional visit to the terrarium. when you hear his doors open, you do not dare exit your room until you hear them close. with each day you wake up, you love him more. your body aches for his, and soul yearns for his. maybe if you told him right away in the beginning, this wouldn't have happened. maybe he would've accepted it, he would have more time to understand.
you're a crying mess, from morning to night, until you pass out of exhaustion.
today, you woke up with a hoarse voice and painful chest. you desperately needed to get out the room, no matter if you heard yeosang's door or not. you might faint if you don't leave.
you limp through the hallways, holding onto the walls. you make it all the way until the rotating tube. why was there no other way to get to the other side?
you sit at the edge, head leaning against the stationary wall and legs hanging above the space. you watch the tube rotate, not brave enough to jump in today. but if you don't make it to the terrarium, you might stay here forever.
the doors open behind you, the familiar voice of the system echoing through the tube. you gulp, his scent enveloping you. you expect him to walk away, or simply jump in the zero gravity space and continue his path. but he holds out his hand for you to take.
you look up at him, eyes tired and bloodshot red. he spares you a single glance, before furrowing his eyebrows and looking away. your hand slides into his, as if made with his measurements in mind. he pulls you up slowly, then presses your body close to his. it is as if you were never separated. his vanilla scent fills up your nostrils, and soft breathing soothes you. you hold onto him, like you did when he took you space walking.
he moves through the tube effortlessly, stopping for a while to gaze at the planets below. they are as breathtaking as the previous ones, and the ones to come. yeosang never ceases to be amazed by the beauty of the universe.
upon reaching the other side, you clutch onto him, knowing that this is going to be a rare occasion now. maybe it was just you, but his breath hitches, as if he wants to say something. no sound leaves his pretty lips, not even when you land in the hallway and he helps you find your balance.
"thank you." you whisper.
he stays by your side, eyeing you up and down. "are you alright?"
"uh, yeah. aside from... you know."
he presses the back of his head against your forehead to feel your temperature. "you're a little hot."
a smile creeps on your lips, and you are desperate to make a joke. typical you, making jokes in situations that are serious.
"go on, say it." he sighs, his lips curving up as well.
"no, the moment is gone now."
"want me to repeat it?"
you roll your eyes, then become serious again. he stares at you, an unexplainable emotion on his face. disgust? maybe.
"where are you headed? you should lay down if you're feeling sick."
"terrarium. i need... fresh air."
"i was headed there too."
"oh. sorry, i'll just go somewhere else." you start turning around, and he grabs you by your elbow.
"you don't have to. come here."
before you can protest, yeosang picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style once again. while he is focused on the path, you take the time to admire him. he is beautiful. his eyes also seem to be a reddish pink shade, and he has slight bags under his eyes. but before a hope sparks inside your heart, you remind yourself that he does not weep after you. he does it after his family, and after his changed fate.
after the life you stole from him.
"i can hear you thinking."
"sorry."
"stop apologizing."
"okay, sorry."
he looks down at you, amused. "you haven't changed a bit."
"uh... sorry?"
for his own sake, he decides to ignore you. when reaching the terrarium, he sets you down on one of the swings. your head feels lighter already, but your voice stays the same. you aren't used to being this silent, despite being alone for almost a month. you steady yourself, holding onto the chains that hold the plank you call a swing. yeosang stands behind it, putting his hands over yours and gently beginning to push it.
"i understand." he starts.
"you don't have to-"
"no, let me." and you do let him. he lightly pushes you on the swing, taking his time to form sentences. "while you were passed out... i wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. if you didn't, i'd probably do as you did. humans aren't made to live alone, and i never believed it. until i got in this situation. thus, i understand. what i did not understand though, why me? hundreds of men and women in those pods, and you chose me. what made me stick out? what made you come over and open the lid? it's not like there are any personality traits written anywhere. i could've been a douchebag, and you wouldn't have known. then what? would you have gotten rid of me? locked me somewhere?"
"you were simply... angelic." you don't have to think long to give him an answer. you did the thinking before opening his pod.
"angelic?"
"you had this beautiful face, serenity painted on it. true, i did not know anything about you. you could've been short tempered, violent, or worse. after all, i'm a girl. alone, with no protection. yet i took my chances. and you turned out to be perfect. i fell in love with every part of you; with your soul, brain, body. you were my dream partner."
he is speechless. for the first time ever you speak openly about it, and you do not stutter.
"and i wanted to be your dream partner. i tried my hardest to be perfect, but my previous doings kept coming back and haunting me. that night... i wanted to tell you. i truly did. but that stupid robot beat me to it. i mean, seriously, he can't push a few buttons but he can gossip?"
yeosang snorts, then nods in agreement.
"i'm sorry."
"what?" you whip your head around to look at him. "no, i'm the one who should be apologizing. you did nothing wrong!"
"i've been thinking. i apologize for what happened on the space walk. and i apologize for getting violent with you. i just felt... cheated. and stolen from. i felt betrayed. and all that by the person i love with all my being."
"but, yeosang-"
"look, y/n." he walks around the swing and crouches in front of you, stopping your swinging. his hands rest on your knees, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing your skin. "for all we know, they could all be headed to a different type of destruction. maybe they miscalculated. maybe the planet already has life on it, and they see humans as threat. they won't hesitate to exterminate them in order to protect their planet. or maybe it is a higher, more advanced civilization. i don't know about you, but i'd rather live my life on a sized down earth than live to see my own species die out or become slaves to someone else. so, in a way, thank you. for saving me."
"oh, yeosang." you exhale, falling on your knees and into his arms. "i love you. i love you so much."
"i love you too, princess. say..."
"yes?" you pull away, wiping your upcoming tears so they don't fall.
"can you give me my ring back so i can propose? but please act surprised."
you laugh, and he laughs with you. you pull it out from your pocket, and he looks at you with a wider smile.
"i can't believe you had it right here."
"had what?" you shove it into his hand.
"what do you mean? the ri- oh. right." he catches on.
you stand up, pretending to look at the plants while he shuffles behind you. he clears his throat after a while, making you turn around. you fake a shocked expression, putting your hand over your open mouth after seeing him on his knee. the box is opened, and the ring is as beautiful as the first time you saw it.
"will you marry me, my queen of cosmos? and rule the cosmos with me by your side?"
"i will, my queen hand."
🌠 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first of all, omg a happy ending?? is this a first for barbz? i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)
🌠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥/𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬)
@kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @devastateed
#ateez#ateez imagine#ateez smut#ateez imagines#kpop smut#ateez x reader#ateez x y/n#ateez x you#ateez oneshot#ateez oneshots#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#yeosang#kang yeosang#yeosang x reader#kang yeosang x reader#yeosang smut#kang yeosang smut#yeosang x you#kang yeosang x you#kang yeosang x y/n#yeosang x y/n#yeosang imagine#yeosang oneshot#yeosang fanfic#yeosang fanfiction#yeosang oneshots#kang yeosang imagine#kang yeosang oneshot#kang yeosang fanfic
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The Best News of Last Week
1. A branch of the flu family tree has died and won't be included in future US vaccines
A type of flu virus that used to sicken people every year hasn't been spotted anywhere on Earth since March 2020. As such, experts have advised that the apparently extinct viruses be removed from next year's flu vaccines.
The now-extinct viruses were a branch of the influenza B family tree known as the Yamagata lineage. Scientists first reported the apparent disappearance of Yamagata viruses in 2021.
2. Hospitals must obtain written consent for pelvic and similar exams, the federal government says
Hospitals must obtain written informed consent from patients before subjecting them to pelvic exams and exams of other sensitive areas — especially if an exam will be done while the patient is unconscious, the federal government said Monday.
New guidance from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services now requires consent for breast, pelvic, prostate and rectal exams for “educational and training purposes” performed by medical students, nurse practitioners or physician assistants.
3. Germany approves new law that will allow adults to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption and store up to 50 grams at home.
Germany's upper house, the Bundesrat, cleared the way to partially legalize cannabis on Friday. Adults aged 18 and over will be allowed to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption.
4. Tick-killing pill shows promising results in human trial | Should it pan out, the pill would be a new weapon against Lyme disease.
Tarsus Pharmaceuticals is developing a pill for humans that could provide protection against the tick-borne disease for several weeks at a time. In February, the Irvine, California–based biotech company announced results from a small, early-stage trial showing that 24 hours after taking the drug, it can kill ticks on people, with the effects lasting for up to 30 days.
5. Thailand moves to legalise same-sex marriage
Thailand has taken a historic step closer to marriage equality after the lower house passed a bill giving legal recognition to same-sex marriage.
It still needs approval from the Senate and royal endorsement to become law but it is widely expected to happen by the end of 2024, making Thailand the only South East Asian country to recognise same-sex unions.
6. French Revolution: Cyclists Now Outnumber Motorists In Paris
Official measurements have found that Paris is rapidly becoming a city of transportation cyclists. In the suburbs, where public transit is less dense, transport by car was found to be the main form of mobility. But for journeys from the outskirts of Paris to the center, the number of cyclists now far exceeds the number of motorists, a huge change from just five years ago.
7. 'Miracle' operation reverses blindness in three-year-old girl giving her 'promising' future
A three year old with a genetic condition that causes blindness is doing incredibly well after unique pioneering operation to restore her sight.
The UK is the only country performing keyhole eye surgery to inject healthy copies of a gene into sufferers’ eyes. It is being used to reverse blindness in children born with a rare condition which means they can only distinguish between light and dark. And it has given little Khadijah Chaudhry, born with Leber congenital amaurosis-4, a chance at seeing properly again.
---
That's it for this week :)
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submitted 11:59 pm
— alternatively, enhypen maknaes as your typical high school crush!
PAIR. high school! enhypen maknaes x gn!reader (rest under cut) GENRE. fluff, high school au, bullet points WORD COUNT. 1.8k total HYUNG LINE VER.
김선우 — kim sunoo
candy hearts, spotify playlists, good morning texts, easy laughter, crescent smiles
in high school, sunoo's known as being super friendly and sociable
and because of that, he has a ton of friends
like he basically knows everyone
you and sunoo have definitely talked before, and you may have had a teensy tiny crush on him from your... downward of five interactions
he's kind of like your hallway crush!
however, you DON'T know that he has had a crush on you for FOREVER
like a MASSIVE one! SINCE MIDDLE SCHOOL
and his friends are SICK AND TIRED of hearing about it
man's dedicated because he really saw you in every single one of your phases and STILL decides to like you. he's a real one
he's so whipped like he's hitting up the group chat (named "en- gang" by riki btw) at 1 in the morning being like
"GUESS WHAT?!!! she smiled at me today ☺️ i forgot to tell you all"
everyone is so done
"did you talk to her though"
"NO. i'm getting there"
"all you did was make eye contact for the past month be srs rn"
so one day jay and jungwon (your mutual friends), who were in the same english class as you both, were feeling DEVIOUS
it was the fall semester final project, and it was supposed to be worked on in teams of 2 to 3
"bro you are NOT working on it with us the love of your life is literally RIGHT there"
jay and jungwon took matters into their own hands and forcefully excluded sunoo ("you guys are so fake")
so now, with no other option, he had to approach you!
"do you have a group already? if not, we could work together?"
wait wtf he didn't say that
hey....
it was YOU???
you approached him first??? he was SHOCKED
tried to play it cool but his smile gave away how happy he was
"yes!!!! let's work together!!!!! :)"
the project actually went so well he has literally never been happier typing away on that document every night
updates the group chat periodically too
"when we were working on the google doc at 2 am in the morning our cursors went over each other’s & it was like we were holding hands :>>"
"how do i unsubscribe"
"you're just mad because you've never been in love <333"
secretly sunoo's thanking his friends though because now you guys are basically close friends!
while doing the project together you started talking about school, friends, life, and everything in between
talking with you just seemed so natural, and sunoo wonders why he was so afraid of it before
i'd like to think that with you, sunoo doesn't feel the need to always put on the bubbly and outgoing side of him
sometimes, he can just be quiet and calm sunoo with you, and the silence feels so comfortable and safe
you start hanging out more and more, and soon you've met so many people through sunoo that they think of you whenever they think of him too
it's like a package deal!
throughout this time he's still madly in love with you btw
he just wants to take things slow! he didn't want to scare you away or anything
and yes, the gc is STILL getting their daily sunooyn Down Bad News Network
"today during lunch she gave me a yakult bottle, i think she’s starting to like me back! :D"
he does Not know you've liked him all this time
the mutual pining is crazy
he (finally) confesses after a whole YEAR
he's super nervous about it, has possible plan b's scripted and sat through 30 minutes of youtube subliminal audios the day before for extra good luck
after he says his whole heartfelt confession, he gives you this handwritten letter with all of his favorite moments with you in the past year, complete with spotify codes next to each one that links to a specific song he thought of at the time
you teared up a bit because oh my gosh it was so cute he was so cute and your heart just melted
you told him you've liked him since forever too and he was FLABBERGASTED
you both also reveal that you've BOTH had hidden spotify playlists dedicated for each other???
let's just say that even years later, the 'en- gang' group chat would NEVER let sunoo live down his digital footprint
양정원 — yang jungwon
strawberries, honors classes, coming of age, familiarity, inside jokes, paper rings
your childhood best friend
who just so happens to also be mr student council president, king of extracurriculars, resident academic powerhouse
and also a LITTLE SHIT about it
since elementary school, you've got some friendly (and not-so-friendly) rivalry going on
"we both know who’s going to get the higher score for this chem final”
“yeah, and it’s going to be me”
“NAH”
but the drive you get from the competition is really what brought you guys together
it's what keeps you motivated, it's what keeps you going
and he's funny! (though you'd never admit it)
because yes, you're both trying to beat each other for the top spot in class rank
but you also get each other
you've been study buddies since the beginning of time, and he keeps the two of you accountable
sometimes he's TOO responsible
"jungwon don't let the pomodoro timer dictate you life can we PLEASE take a snack break right nowww"
"we literally did that FIVE MINUTES AGO"
outside of studying he's really chill though
one summer he started to get really into alchemy of souls and you binged the series twice together, effectively destroying both of your sleep schedules right before school started
he just loves existing in the same space as you tbh
definitely loves calling you for hours during the school year, whether to review for an upcoming exam or to just have the two of you do your own things while connected on the phone
it's pretty common for the two of you to fall asleep while on call with one another
late night yapping sessions (hello??? his weverse addiction??)
he feels like he can just let his responsibilities go and you're the only person who really understands him and everything he does and why he does it
lowkey.... he also just wants to make you proud :(
he was so happy that one time you offhandedly mentioned how you've seen and appreciated all the hard work he was putting in for one of the school events
when he eventually confessed to you, everything just made sense
like the way your eyes always lingered on his bright smile when he showed up on your doorstep at the crack of dawn
and how even when you tease each other, you never miss how he would reach for your hand with his own before retracting it hurriedly as if changing his mind
now, oh he just makes you feel so loved
texts you at random times of the day just because, sending you the most random images and captioning them with "us"
he's still got the silliness in him though!
"i want to try every strawberry with chocolate combination with you <333"
西村力 — nishimura riki
neon lights, school dances, sunglasses, finger guns, playful banter, shared hoodies
honestly he's just at school for the vibes
however, he DID take homecoming very seriously
with one goal in mind: to DOMINATE the dance floor
and dominate he did.
he partied in the USA so hard that by the end of the night, everyone was talking about that freshman who left everyone speechless at a HIGH SCHOOL DANCE
among those witnesses of how riki out-danced the entire school population, were you
and you thought he was literally the coolest person ever
fast forward two years, and you're a junior now
it's all good! you've definitely outgrown your month-long admiration of the Guy From Hoco
but yo what guess who sits right next to your seat in class???
it's the Guy From Hoco himself
honestly, you're a pretty chill person so you turned to him and were like "hey aren't you that guy that got famous back during hoco freshman year?"
but now? he’s EMBARRASSED to admit it
"oh uhhh that wasn't me haha"
boy bffr you would know his face anywhere
you kind of gave him a questioning look and shrugged
"oh well, i thought it was really cool though"
he instantly backtracks, because you thought it was cool and NOT an aura loss????
"wait i think i remember now haha that WAS me!!!"
you guys match energy so well tbh
he started to catch feelings for you because of how funny you were and how you two just clicked, but he was stuck in denial FOREVER
"I DON'T CHASE I ATTRACT" (desperate)
heeseung also tried to give him "rizz counseling" but that just ended up with them both saying "mb gang" at everything
which was..... not very rizzy!
you had convinced him to audition for the competition dance team at your school, which he obviously made
he texted you the day he got in too, typing in all caps in everything which he NEVER does
"why would you scream about things in caps lock when you can be cool and nonchalant" YEAH SURE RIKI
updated all his social media bios to @[school]varsitydanceteam the moment he got the acceptance notif
“[name] is my instagram bio tuff”
“WHY ARE U ALR PUTTING IT IN YOUR BIO"
"because i’m committed and it lets them know i’m part of a professional community"
(heeseung told him that it would show his commitment to the sport and thus his potential to commit to you.)
at this point, riki was ready to fire heeseung and switch to jake as his ghostwriter 💀
but little did he know, you started liking him too once you saw how genuinely hardworking he was when he has a goal
like those hours he spent on call with you asking if you thought this one move was clean enough?? he really put in his all (he also wanted to impress you)
you kind of had the idea that he liked you back, because let's be honest he was being a bit obvious about it
the way he almost choked when you hugged him congratulations??? he looked DAZED for a whole hour
you had to confess to riki because his heejake rizz courses consisted mainly of heeseung and jake arguing about whose approach was better
even when you two became a couple, you still had teasing as a love language LMAO
"HAHA 🫵🫵 YOU'RE SO SHORT i still love you though <3"
it's just how he shows his love, but he also loves draping his arm across your shoulders when walking around
made sure to emphasize to heeseung and jake that this was all his doing and they did not help him at ALL
but let's be real, YOU were the rizziest of them all
and riki agrees <3
TAGLIST : @star-sim @boyfiejay @jlheon @jwsdoll @dimplewonie @suneng @en-gelic @mygnolia @asteria-wood
#k-labels#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#sunoo#kim sunoo#sunoo enhypen#sunoo fluff#sunoo imagines#sunoo x reader#jungwon#jungwon x reader#jungwon imagines#jungwon fluff#enhypen riki#nishimura riki#riki x reader#riki fluff#niki fluff#niki x reader#ashtxrie#— ash writes!
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: ̗̀➛ ALL OR NOTHING. yan! aventurine / gn! reader
it's a nice feeling to finally be on the winning side, feigning fairness when all the winning cards are in his hand. but it's not like you can fault him for cheating. after all, you who has nothing chose to challenge him, the one who will gain everything.
( overarching theme of sl4very, anim4l cruelty, anim4l death, bl00d, graphic description of violence, hinted obsessive behavior, im unoriginal and stole kafkas spirit whisper for reader ) + 7.5k words
"It's just a bet," he suggests, as if this gamble won't cost you your everything. "Juuust a bet. Exactly what are you so scared of?"
He sits laid back in his plush velvet chair, twirling a cocktail as he enjoys the finest luxuries in life. He is clad head to toe in the finest clothing, dressed like a peacock waiting to impress. You, on the other hand, feel more like the peahen— dreadfully drab in your rags and no choice but to watch as the peacock flaunts his feathers. You are knelt on the ground, but your eyes show no submission.
"I'm not crazy, gambler," you bite. "I know the IPC. They are full of shit. And you, Aventurine." Your eyes set on him with hatred. "You're the smelliest of the lot."
Aventurine, the gem of lies and luck, sighs dramatically. "Pup, you know I don't like it when you're so vulgar, y'know? I'm giving you a chance at freedom, so you ought to at least treat me at least a little bit nicer. I'm not the one who shackled you, so I don't understand what the aggression is all about."
"You're the reason why I'm here in the first place!"
"No, Jade was." He presses a finger to your lip and you'd bite it if it weren't for the annoying bind you were under. "Jade came across you and thought you and your talent would make for a nice gift. You were a gift and I'm just the receiver. So don't go barking up the wrong tree, pup."
"So." He leans back into his couch and shoots you a sly grin. "Up for round one?"
You are lost.
The meaning of Paths and their symbolisms are lost on you. You don't care for Aeons— no one on your home planet was. You were busy diving in dumpsters for a scrape of food, tricking your 'friends' into sacrificing themselves for you, and killing whatever was left of your humanity just to make it to another day. You walk on no Path but yours.
You don't even know which way you're going. So you are lost.
You think Aventurine is lost too.
He has every detail of his facade practiced. His gait is relaxed enough to not be intimidating, but not sloppy enough to be called out as bad posture. He talks in a smooth voice that eases fools and makes enemies wary, his smile is charming to sway the opponent into another gamble, his hair is fixed to frame his pretty face, and he chooses words that cannot be turned into loopholes. He is Aventurine. But he is not himself.
He does not care for the Preservation, but he rejects the Elation. He is on his own Path too, but he knows the destination he must reach— his 'End'. In that way, he is different from you, because you know not your journey or your ending. Still, he is just as lost as you.
But he makes a darn good show of not seeming that way. Right now, you watch as he throws the dice on the table, and the whole table watches with bated breath as they turn. A six and one— he lost the bet to the other's six and five. They cackle gleefully as they collect their earnings from Aventurine. They have chips upon chips on their side of the table while Aventurine's winnings are cut in half.
"I think I'll call it a day, pretty boy," the gambler cackles, greedily eyeing his earnings and possibly dreaming about the cash he's made tonight. "Even a gambler knows when to call quits, right?"
Aventurine pouts. "Aww, so soon? C'mon, the night's only begun! Who knows, play another round and you might just end up with more money than you have right now~"
The man laughs again, obviously not fooled by his pity act. "Boy, I'm not as addicted as you are. I know when to stop instead of letting you bleed me out dry." But Aventurine isn't fazed; rather, he snaps his fingers and you lower your head as you step to his side.
"Well, we can't have that, can we? [Y. Name], be a dear and persuade this gentleman into another round with me."
A glow of your eyes. Then you fix the man with an eerie gaze as you say, bright and clear, "Hey, you: Play another round with my master."
As if in a daze, the man's eyes cloud over and sit right back. Another round later Aventurine wins all his losses back and more, leaving the other gambler's side naked and bare of chips. The man is barely out of his stupor when he realizes what just happened— that he's fallen for a trick and now he's ended up with no money to even cover his lodgings— but you and Aventurine have sauntered out of the casino doors by the time he's begun cussing you out.
"Ha! That was fun." Aventurine shrugs off his jacket now that you're in the car and raises an empty champagne glass to you. "You're a good partner, [Y. Name]. Honestly, that Spirit Whisper of yours is such a nice trick. Just like that Stellaron Hunter, right?"
"... Kafka?"
"Yes, her. Enigmatic woman, isn't she? A bit ironic how those with such a powerful ability ended up as slaves. Her as Destiny's, and you as... mine." He gives your collar a little tug and you growl in warning, but you inch closer to him anyway. "So. Gambling. You up for that round?"
You scoff and grin at him with all teeth and no mirth. "You really think that a Cornerstone would bet on their slave's freedom?" Aventurine's own grin grows wider. "C'mon. Even Pteruges-V has better lies than you."
"Ah, right, your homeworld. No wonder you're so brazen all the time, even to your superiors. I forget that fear is a foreign concept to you people. Still," he raises your chin with a finger. "If you're so fearless, why not bet on a gamble? It's not like you're scared."
"There may be fools from my planet that you can trick with that taunt, peacock, but I'm not one of them. I'm fearless, not stupid. And with the way you're so eager to involve me in this bet, I'm beginning to suspect that you need this more than I do." You push him away. "So, no, master, I won't indulge you. I'll bide my time and look for an escape. Just like I've always had."
"And what?" He looks at you from behind his sunglasses. "Will you kill me to gain that freedom?"
You flash him a sharp grin, now amused. "Of course you'd think that, master."
The smile on his face is wiped clean. You really are a brazen thing, you.
Jade has always mentioned how soft Aventurine is on you. A dog of your attitude should merit a little more disciplinary action and even the good Doctor has told him this once or twice after seeing your arrogance despite the collar around your neck. "Your dog bites more than it deserves," Ratio scoffed while you made an action of biting him behind Aventurine. He frowned in displeasure. "You ought to make it learn a lesson or two."
"Now, now, doctor," Aventurine had laughed. "Not everyone shares the same sadistic tendencies as you." An image of you collared and shaking on your knees flashes through his mind, and he finds himself gulping. Ratio looks at him like he doesn't believe him.
It's not like he hasn't thought of it, of chaining you to the wall and starving you so that you learn that your attitude has its consequences. You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, not when he's been so good to you. But that... that was exactly the line of thought his old master had. That wicked man who put a brand on him and sullied his hands with his wretched man... he couldn't risk turning into a monster like... that.
Aventurine is weak. Unable to let go of past sentiments and memories, he makes it up with his grand display of bravado and high-stakes gambles. He gambles even as he spoils you, laughing at your audacity and even rewarding you for it sometimes, not knowing whether you'll leave him or if you'll stay with him. It is a gamble indeed, but you were worth every risk.
"What do you think of me, [Y. Name]?" The cityscape beyond the window is glowing with Pier Point's nightlife, and his suite provides him a good view of the world beneath him. He glances back at you, stirring his coffee for him. "Your dear master Aventurine. What do you think of me?"
"Annoying, stupid, a fool, an addict, and pathetic." You don't hesitate to badmouth your master. "You lie too well, you think that luck of yours will never run out, and you try to be someone that you can't."
"And who is that someone?"
Your eyes flash. "Someone strong. Someone confident. Someone who isn't afraid to admit his weaknesses and hope that things get better."
"I didn't peg you for an optimist, dear pet."
"Hmph. That's not optimism. I may not know what exactly fear is, but I know that what is holding you back isn't it. You do not fear things, gambler. You stake it all and bet on something so intangible as luck. That can't be fear."
"Then what is it?"
The stare you give him sets his heart off, looking straight into his eyes and giving a grin so devilish and knowing like that facade of his never mattered in the first place.
"You're a coward. A plain, old coward. Nothing more, nothing less."
That conversation had always popped up in his head in the most inconvenient of moments, especially when he was about to get some sleep. His heart beat faster every time he recalled that knowing gaze of yours, invading where he didn't want the world to see and baring his soul right before your very eyes. His facade doesn't work on you.
He could care less. You were the one person he didn't want it to work on, though he'd never admit that out loud.
This meeting with the other Ten Cornerstones could not interest him any less, and it seemed to be that way for the others too. Jade is saying something on behalf of Diamond, again, and everyone is busy doing their own thing. Only Topaz seems to be the one paying at least some attention, and even then she gets distracted by Numby from time to time. Aventurine glances at the clock.
He wonders how his pup is faring while he's away. Ecstatic, perhaps.
"— All evidence leads to an underground network that is scattered among numerous planets, though thankfully all of them are within the same galaxy. I'll be forwarding an email to you all with a detailed report on each of these. Just know that most of us will be likely deported to these countries to break up the—" In the middle of Jade's tiresome monologue, the security alarms start to blare and two officers slam through the doors with looks of urgency. One of them scans the room until his eyes land on Aventurine, and they quickly approach him.
"Sir!" They say, desperate and alarmed. "Your do— I mean, slave! They've– They've escaped!"
Surprise streaks across the faces of the Ten Cornerstones, even Aventurine's. He collects himself when he catches Jade's knowing smile and chuckles to himself.
"Well, I guess this is the master's consequence for not disciplining their pet."
Did he really think you were fucking stupid? Taking on a bet for your freedom... what a bunch of bullshit. He can proclaim about how much he loves a fair gamble, but you know that's only reserved for the people around the table. You are his slave, the one he demeaningly calls 'pet'— you don't have the chance to make your own dealings.
"Halt! In the name of Qlipoth, you better stop while we're giving you a chance." These IPC henchmen were slowpokes, the lot of them. You weave in and between salary workers, crashing trolleys full of wares and coffees and hopping between levels just to shake them off their tracks. By golly, they might be incompetent but Aeons damned they were nothing but persistent.
"Ha, the Devil Hunters were more annoying than them," you mutter to yourself, skidding around the corner only to come face-to-face with two IPC henchmen. They raise their polearms to strike, but with a chilling grin stretched across your face, you say: "Hey, you: Jump."
You don't look back to see whether they made the seven-floor drop.
This reminds you of the nights you spent back in Pteruges-V: making fools out of the prissy rich, jumping across buildings to shake of the Hunters, and using whatever you had to make things go your way. Not everyone had Spirit Whisper, but those who had made good use of it and you sure as hell wouldn't miss a single chance to use it.
Your mind runs with plans as you continue to run away. Maybe you'll find a nice ship to stow away on, hopefully, one that leads to a nice planet that isn't so stuffy and rigid. Maybe like Homberto-σ, out of sight from the IPC and where everyone minded their own business.
For what felt like forever trying to shake your followers off, you finally came to a stop when you realized that only the sound of your footsteps could be heard in this labyrinth of hallways and corridors. Finally having shaken them off, you sigh as you climb up the stairs to the rooftop. 'Just jump down and sneak off to the nearest hiding place you can find.' You tug at your collar and scowl. 'When I escape, not even this collar will matter anymore. Not when I'm somewhere they won't reach me.'
You've escaped so many life-or-death situations before. Escaping slavery is no different.
"Slave [Y.Name], subordinate of Cornerstone Aventurine, you are surrounded!" A voice blares through a megaphone the moment you step onto the roof deck. You hiss as multiple glaring lights settle on you, shielding your face from them and the helicopters' onslaught of wind. "Surrender now before we are forced to take extreme measures."
Through the gaps of your fingers, you can barely make out the men in black pointing their guns at your head, the red hot of the laser making you a point-blank target. You click your tongue. Those bastards tricked you into thinking you were safe. Fuck. You couldn't even be mad. This was all on you.
"Oh, little pup. I guess I really should have listened to them when they told me to discipline you." Aventurine's seedy voice sighs behind you, smirking as he nonchalantly strides up to you. "Did you really have to do all this instead of taking the bet? Do you really hate the thought of playing with me, hm?"
"Fuck off."
"No can do, little one, you know how much I'm obsessed with you, right?" He chuckles, catching your chin between his thumb and index and forcing you to look into his eyes. Those Sigonian eyes are covered by the cloudy purple of his glasses, but even you can tell just how much he's enjoying this mess you've put yourself in. "You know I don't have a need for your skill. I could easily persuade anyone without trying, but I still let you stick around. Pup, I can't just back away from you when you know how much I want you."
You smile darkly. "That's cuz you're a sicko who likes tugging on the chain instead of being in it."
Those pretty eyes of his darken for a moment, embittered by the snarky comment at his past, before his hands trail down to your collar, hooking it with a finger and pulling on it. "Dear, while I usually have the patience for your tirades, I'd rather not do it today. You've humiliated me enough in front of the entire Corporation. So—" Pulling once again on your collar, he starts to lead you to the door. "— Let us depart without much hassle, okay?"
Humiliation sears your nerves like a hot metal, a warning growl eliciting from your mouth as he continues to tug you away from the rooftop. Close, you were so fucking close. Here you are breathing in the fresh night wind, a jump away from freedom, but then these IPC idiots all had you fooled. You don't care how many bullets will embed themselves into your skin, all you just needed to do was get away from this grip Aventurine has on you.
You grab the wrist pulling on you, yanking him towards you. His eyes widen before narrowing again, as if not believing that you still had the energy to fight like you don't have red laser points on your forehead. "[Y. Na—"
"Hey, you: S—"
You couldn't even get another syllable out. Your collar beats a few pulses before it starts squeezing your neck, crushing your windpipes and forcing you down on your knees as you choke on your blood. It sears hot around your neck and you collapse writhing on the ground as you sob and gurgle on your screams and congealed blood.
'WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY ME—' You can only curse and scream inside your head as you painfully thrash on the cement. '— A BILLION BASTARDS IN THE WORLD AND IT HAD TO BE FUCKING ME.'
Darkness is pushing in on you and the pain is making it too hard to go on, but you've always been a fighter. Even if you think that your squirming is pathetic and futile to the onlookers, you continue to tug and pull on the collar like you have a chance. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are too fucking blurry to see with, but the fight doesn't die down.
Aventurine places a soft palm on your hair. Even through the tears stinging your eyes, you can barely make out the faint expression on his face. Damned fucking bastard, damned Signonian, hypocrite and the fucking devil—!
He even has the audacity to look sad for you, as the light slips away from your eyes.
The first round is simple. Play a round of poker with him.
Aventurine hums delightedly as he shuffles the cards with clean and practised movements, looking right at home at the dealer's table he has sitting in his suite. You blankly look at the cards, not even an inch of a reaction from your side. He chuckles as he deals your cards.
"C'mon, look alive, dear." It's almost like he genuinely wants you to cheer up. "Look, I even poured out alcohol for you. It's not everyday that you get to taste Pier Point's most exquisite wine!"
You continue to stare blankly. You haven't given up yet, of course not, but... you can barely bring yourself to move.
When Aventurine is done dealing all the cards, he leans back on his chair and studies his opponent, just like he always has in the past. If you were acting normally, this would have been an easy win. After all, you always wore your heart on your sleeve and abhorred being told to control your emotions. You acted the way you felt— you curse when you anger, you boast when you're feeling smug, and you press your lips together and blush as he praises you for another job well done.
But now. Well. Bandaids cover the seared marks on your neck as well as your head after you've slammed it against the pavement during your delirious fit on the rooftop. Your arms are littered with purples and blues, the aftermath of a disciplinary session that went on throughout the night. Despite the abuse that Aventurine has (rightfully, in his mind) dealt to you, he had made sure to tend to you afterwards.
Settling your head on his lap, combing through the strands as he placed an icepack on your bruises. He hummed you an old children's rhyme from his home planet as you lay limp across the couch. You could barely move, mind unable to process the pain and despair of having an inch of freedom being ripped away from you. He had wiped away the tear that would fall from your eyes.
You couldn't feel comforted at all.
"This will be the first round out of four. Today, we'll make this a bit simple. Five quick rounds of Indian poker. If you're confident that your card is higher than mine, you can bet as much as you like. Not confident? Fold, and that won't count as a round. Loser has the lower card." He raises his glasses to his hair and smiles at you. "Understood?"
"Understood," you grunt. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot."
Aventurine only smirks. It irritates you, but you don't have much fire in you to snap at him.
The room is silent save for the clinking of chips against each other. The two of you cast a chip to the middle of the table. You raise your card to your forehead.
You cast two more chips. Aventurine casts three. You stare at the printed picture on his card and throw in another chip. He throws in another five. You frown.
"Fold."
"Ah~ You should've been more confident in yourself!" Aventurine chuckles as he begins to shuffle the deck to deal another round. You scowl at the Ace of Clubs in your hand, mocking you at your relinquished defeat. "Is a little intimidation all that's needed to make you submit? You weren't this docile before."
"Shut the fuck up and let's play again." He decides to stifle his laugh for the sake of your nerves.
"Raise." Your win, six of hearts to three of spades.
"Raise." Your win, queen of spades to jack of hearts.
"Fold." Could've been Aventurine's, ace of spades to king of spades.
"Raise." Aventurine's win, eight of clubs to six of hearts.
"Fold." Could've been yours, queen of hearts to 10 of clubs.
"Raise." Aventurine's win, nine of clubs to seven of spades.
Aventurine's practiced hands thumb through the cards as he begins to rearrange them again. His glass wine is almost empty, while yours is untouched. The man knows that you don't drink, so why would he...?
"Last round before one of us wins," Aventurine's voice lilts as he throws you your card. "How about we make it exciting? No one is allowed to fold this round." You frown at him but don't say anything. You cast another chip to the table, and he follows suit.
He has a 10 of spades pressed to his forehead, and your fingers dig deep into your skin.
'Oh please, there's other cards higher than a 10.' You remind yourself, but you gulp down your dry throat as your vision zeroes into his card. 'Jack, Queen, King, Ace. Anything. Please.' Aventurine notices your hurried breathing and smiles knowingly. You gulp whatever cowardice is rising in your throat and throw another chip.
"Raise." Fuck it. If this is the last round, then let's just ball.
He cocks his head, finding the motion unnecessary in this last round. But he sighs with a smile and plays along, casting his chips into the fray, "Then I'll raise too."
"This is the last round," you say, more so to remind yourself.
"Yep." He leans forward on the table and the fluorescent lights cast a shadow over those alluring eyes. "Nervous?"
'How could you say that? How could you taunt me like that? When you were just like me?'
You strengthen your resolve and glare up at him, the fire lighting back up in those blank eyes. "I hope you go to hell."
You throw your card to the middle, with the rest of the chips.
Jack of Clubs.
Aventurine cocks his head at you, smiling as usual.
"Congratulations, pet."
One would expect that Pier Point was the peak embodiment of wealth and luxury, being the base of the Interastral Peace Corporation. But the brightly something shone the darker its shadows.
Aventurine just so happened to like those shadows, even shrugging off those fancy clothes of his just so that he could find solace in those sleazy bars and play rounds of poker with dead-eyed salarymen and recently fired hopefuls.
The surroundings didn't fare any better. Amongst the dying neon lights, Pier Point's worst neighborhoods featured a just as nasty environment. Drunkards lying beside dumpsters with shattered beer bottles around them, cats hissing at each other in a fight for survival, and abandoned children peeking at them around the corner as they lay in wait for an opening.
Aventurine has shedded his elaborate peacock coat in favor of a simple white button-down and slacks. Despite the simplicity, he still looked out of place amongst the rags, though it made people think of him as a fearless idiot rather than run away at the sight of the IPC's elite.
"Mmm, that robin is indeed very plump," the blonde idiot remarks out of nowhere. "Quite out of place for this kind of area."
You pay him very little attention, mindlessly kicking the broken half of a bottle with your heel. It bumps into a smelly bastard who shoots you an irritated look, but quickly cowers when you return it tenfold. "Maybe it's been feeding on the leftovers of you prissy IPC folk," you spat, taking a look at the fat robin for yourself.
He takes no notice of the slight towards his kind and instead cocks his head at the cat slinking around the corner. "Well. Its health has attracted a rather unwelcome predator." He turns to you, with a mischievous smile. "How about we make this round two? Who will die first, the cat or the robin?"
Seriously? You were betting your freedom on something as stupid as this? You consider the cat— snarling, insipid thing, balding and thin as a stick— then the robin, tweeting fearfully at its perch on the graffitied wall. "Am betting on the cat. Could eat the fat thing while you go on another gamble."
He laughs, sliding on his shades as he walks into the seedy bar. "Then I have no choice but to bet on the poor robin. Let's have some fun before we see the results of our bet."
The cat is lying on the ground, heaving its last few breaths. Its yellow eyes are barely peeking out from its eyelids, probably delirious and starving in its last moments. You poke it slightly with your foot.
It meows pitifully. You instantly feel bad.
It might just be the ugliest thing you've laid your eyes on, but even the ugliest creatures deserve some sort of companionship in their last moments. It hisses weakly when you draw your hand close, but it can't do anything but relent as you stroke its hairless head. It purrs a bit, ragged and breathy, but the heaving of its ribbed chest slows as it relaxes.
"Don't do that," you murmur. "Just... just be quiet. It's okay."
The quiet steps of leather shoes stop beside you, and Aventurine watches on in silence as you comfort the dying thing. His gaze moves from the cat to the robin, still perched on top of the wall with his fat little chest and beady eyes. It hasn't moved from its position at all, just... staring and staring.
"So—"
"I know," you murmur, focus still on the poor thing. "I know, okay?"
The fat robin chirps again, tittering with its mocking chirp, before it flies away into the sky.
Your cat closes its eyes shut, and its skinny chest finally slows to a stop.
Aventurine stays with you for a while as you find a nice spot of earth to bury it.
No matter how much you want to believe your preconceived image of the blonde gambler— irresponsible, materialistic, money-wasting— you can't just make up lies about him in your head when all of his missions end on a win for him. Right now, he's heading for another mission in a galaxy far away again. And like always, he's dragged you along whether you like it or not.
"Come on, you like sightseeing other planets!" He laughs on the space warp going there. "Makes your blood pumping, scouting out the possible planets you can run away to."
"If I can run away," you grumble, not wanting to acknowledge him as you stare out the window and into the starry expanse of galaxies and space. This sight has always unnerved you— a reminder of how small and insignificant you are. How small and insignificant this collar hand on your life.
"It's not like you to be such a downer," he huffs. He pats the empty seat beside him. "Come, come. Drink with me. Ah, but no alcohol though. Don't want you trying to bite my entourage as soon as we get off." He's referring to the time that you had two sips of the lightest alcohol the ship had in stock before you absolutely wasted and decided that running away to the next planet was a good idea.
You grunt but sit on the floor next to his feet. He doesn't dare to correct you but only regards you with amusement before handing you a glass of sparkling water. You've always had this weird insistence of maintaining your master-slave status quo, despite abhorring your status as a slave. You followed his commands to the tee no matter how dangerous but refused to budge whenever he insisted on treating you like an equal.
"Don't get me wrong," you had snapped at him angrily one time. "As long as I'm in this stupid collar, I am not your fucking equal. So don't go around treatin' me like one, got it?!"
"You got the briefing, right? I'll be dismantling an underground operation on our next planet, so I'll be making good use of your Spirit Whisper." You sip your drink and make no reaction. "I'm sure you have no complaints about that, right?"
"Like I have a fuckin' choice."
He laughs into his cocktail. "Right. How could I forget?" Your eyes narrow into slits when he threads his thin fingers through your hair, but you don't make any move to remove them. "Unfortunately, this isn't an operation that I can just charm and gamble my way through, so you'll be doing a lot of heavy lifting. But so long as I have you, my dearest pet, I'm sure we'll be done before we know it."
You fight the urge to give into his tender touch, massaging your scalp as he combs your strands, though your eyelids are drooping now. He chuckles fondly when you rest your chin on the sofa, right next to his thigh. Adorable, how easily you succumb to the smallest of physical affection.
"Just take a nap," he hums. "We'll be there before you know it."
Aventurine's lavish outfit is a stark contrast against the nitty and gritty environment of the gambling den the two of you are staking out right now. Some of the men leer at him when he passes by, their faces painted by sweat and malice, and the promiscuous women bat their eyes at him with painted-on sweet smiles. No one bats an eye at the collared servant trailing behind him.
You try not to wince as you accidentally make eye contact with another slave, them kneeling on the ground with only rags to cover them and you have the luxury to look away as you grip the sleeves of your ironed button-down. You decide to just fix your eyes on Aventurine's back for the rest of the journey.
The next room you enter— less room to be honest, and more... coliseum-y— features a fighting ring where the crowd cheers on two dogs circling each other under the fluorescent spotlights. The other one, bigger and scarred, is baring his teeth while bearing a deep red gash across his body. The smaller one is shivering but giving the same energy back, snarling in intimidation while also sporting a noticeable limp. Despite the darkness of the room, you don't miss the way Aventurine's face contorts into disgust as he looks at the fight and surveys the crowd of spectators.
"Disgusting," he murmurs. You don't say anything back, though you doubt he could hear you amidst all this cheering. You used to bet on dogs too, back in the day. It was quick and easy money, and you had better things to worry about than the fate of some mutt.
While you're focused on the pathetic dog show in front of you, he steps to your side and nudges you with his elbow. "Willing to bet?" He asks, eyes focused on the show. "As our third round."
"From the look on your face, I thought you hated this kind of thing."
"I do, but I'm not putting money in the pot like the rest of them. This is strictly between you and me with no money involved." He turns his gaze to you. "So, what about it?"
You study the dogs. They've been circling each other for a while now, and the crowd's been growing more and more agitated by the lack of fighting. You think of the dogs you've bet on before, how the smaller ones had just an equal chance of success at winning as the bigger ones. Unconsciously, you tug at your collar. It matches perfectly with the stupid dogs down below.
"Bet," you huff. "I'm taking the smaller one."
You don't know why. It'd make sense to just bet on the bigger and badder, but maybe it's that ferocity in his eyes even if it's overshadowed by the growling menace that has you feeling for it. It's stupid, you know, betting your freedom on a hunch and emotions. But...
If it could have a chance at winning... then why can't you?
...
... Are you destined to die, just like it?
... Are you destined to die as a slave for another IPC slave?
... Will your death be just as morbid and pathetic as the mongrel, his innards spilling onto the pavement while the winner is pulled away by the collar, with no prize but another day of freedom?
This is round three out of four. You've only won one so far.
The very next round could kill you. Could completely sign away your freedom.
Shit shit shit shit shit. Why'd you have to go feeling sorry for the stupid shit? Why'd you have to empathize with its futile fight? Why'd you have to go see yourself in it? Now you could very much share its fate, dying pathetically serving for people who never cared about you in the first place.
Shit shit shit shit shit. The pressure of the bet has always been at the back of your mind, niggling at your brain. But now you can feel its heavy weight squeezing around your heart, in perfect rhythm with the phantom choking of your collar. If you don't win the next, you could very much—
Something light touches your shoulder and you lurch back like you had been stricken there. It disgusts and scares you, sending both repulsion and fear through your body like maggots wriggling into your system.
With a faltering outstretched palm, Aventurine's eyes widen behind his glasses. He sees something on your face, enough to make him bite down whatever cocky shit he has to say, and turns his back towards you.
"Let's go," he says, just barely audible above the crowd. "We still have a mission to complete.
"This is some silly joke of yours, isn't it?" Aventurine maintains his cool facade, but even then there is disgust in his tone as he speaks to Jade. "Giving a slave to another... you must think this is hilarious."
"Amusing, maybe, but this little one is too precious to let loose in the wild." Jade strokes your head, and while you curse in warning, you don't move to attack. "A user of Spirit Whisper, a rarity even among those in Pteruges-V. Don't you think it'd be better if they served the Amber Lord rather than going back to their pretty crimes?"
"Then give them to someone else." Aventurine turns his back on you and Jade. "Since when did I need help closing a deal?"
"Well, I just thought that you were lonely."
"And you think gifting me a slave of all things would help me?"
"Oh, just give them a chance. I'm sure you'll like this one. Look." Jade raises your chin with a finger, lifting your bruised face to the light. You shoot her a glare, plotting murder in your head, but you don't try to fight back. You might have tried once, probably, and learned your lesson. "Don't you love the fire in their eyes, even after being collared and brutally beaten?"
It is sick. It is sick how Jade can just easily muse about your past abuse to his face. To him. It is sick how the IPC thinks that Aventurine would even be happy about this... gift, let alone accept it.
"I appreciate the... thought." Jade smiles at the barely held back distaste in his voice. "But I'd really rather not."
"Oh, I see..." Jade hums, tilting her head to scrutinize you. "But no one else will accept you since you're too feisty for their liking. So I guess..."
"We'll just have to kill you."
Your face pales. Aventurine has never been quick to turn around.
"Fine. I'll accept," he says with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. "I'll accept your gift, so just..." He sighs, massaging his temples and waving Jade off. "Go away and let us be."
"Is this some sort of savior complex you have going on?" Despite being a slave, you haven't really learned how to hold that spiteful tongue of yours. Half of the fault lies with Aventurine, seeing how he's never bothered to scold you for it. He looks away from the reports in his hand and smiles at you.
"Oh, whatever do you mean, my dear pup?" Your bitter scowl is pushed down even further at his sweet tone and you scoff.
"I mean," you say, gesturing all around you. "You never scold me, you give me good food, you do all these nice things for me. You don't beat and lash at me like others do. Are you feeling sorry? As one slave to another?"
"Personally, I've never heard of a slave complain about treating this well."
"It's weird." You frown. "It's weird and creepy. All these niceties yet I can tell that you don't even mean half of 'em. Your heart isn't in it. You're just doing it for the sake of being nice. So I don't get it." You cross your arms and lean on the couch, deep in thought. "If you don't even mean it, why even bother?"
Aventurine hums, studying your silent and pondering figure before returning to his papers. You don't follow up your complaints with anything else, and the two of you are left to stew in the silence.
... Why even bother indeed?
"Last round and you only have one win, pup." His sickly sweet voice croons, tapping his perfect nails on the table as he watches your expression. "Are you excited?"
Normally you'd bite back, but today you thickly swallow. The looming sense of doom continues to hammer into the back of your skull, spiking your nerves with every beat and shaking your senses. You can barely feel your fingers. You can barely feel except for the fear coiling around your heart.
"... Yes." You can't even barely say a syllable.
Through the rushing blood of your ears, you can barely make out the sound of your master rummaging through something. Something metallic clicks into place and he slides it to the center of the table. You will yourself to look up—
A shiny revolver lies on the table.
A surprised cry elicits from your mouth and you jolt back. The sight of a weapon is enough to startle your poor nerves now and even more so the expectant look glinting in Aventurine's eyes. He smirks and leans forward.
"How about I make an offer you can't refuse?" Not that you were in a position to do so. "Since this is the fourth round, how about we go all in?"
"Russian Roulette. Whoever wins stays alive—"
—And the other lays dead in a puddle of their own blood.
It goes unsaid, but the moment you locked eyes with Aventurine, it was clear that the both of you were thinking of the same thing. You could ponder upon why the Aventurine would stake his own life over something so trivial as your freedom, but you aren't thinking anymore. All you want is your freedom. All you want is to get away.
You don't think further as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the gun and press it to your temple. You pull the trigger. Only a clean click follows, the chamber changing cases. You slide the gun over to him.
He calmly picks it up and slots it to his temple too. "Why are you so desperate to get away from me, pup?" He cocks his head. "I would give you everything you ask for, should you just ask. I treat you with care and as a friend. Is being with me so bad you'd put your life on the line for your freedom?"
He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He slides it over to you.
"Even if you go back to your old life, what would be the point? You'll go back to stealing whatever you can off nobles, treating your fellow street rats like fools and pawns before dashing off to your next victim. Would that give you happiness? Fulfillment? Is that the life you prefer instead of being next to me?"
"Sh... Shut up." You sound drained, but he presses on.
"You can have it all, in the price of a collar. Does it not sound good enough to you?"
'Why... Why of all people is he...'
"Do you really hate being owned by me?"
"Why are you..." You choke on your words, grip around the handle trembling. "Why are you saying those things?"
Aventurine has never seen you cry. Not once. Not even when he had to punish you for running away. You could be weak and beaten, but you never willingly cried. But now...
He raises a hand to cover his smile.
"I thought... I thought you of all people would understand." Tears drop to your lap and your hand lowers the gun from your temple. "The pain, the humiliation of being a slave, of being owned. It doesn't matter how nice you are to me. I just want to be free. Shouldn't that be enough?"
Silence overtakes the room as Aventurine takes in the unfamiliar sight before him. Here you were, his greatest treasure, the most vulnerable than you ever were. Sobbing and weeping with a gun in hand, the pressure of the bet finally getting to you.
He moves. "... So this is it? For your pride?"
You wince, looking at him in betrayal. "You... I thought you of all people would at least understand..." You stay silent, the words forming on your tongue but too afraid to sound them out. Then your expression twists into anger, then resolute determination, before you wipe away your tears and glare at him like you always did. "I was wrong. You're scum. Just like the rest of 'em."
The moment the head of the gun points at his head, the collar clamps down and chokes you till your throat cracks and bleeds. The current of electricity crackling your nerves is just as painful and torturous as last time, but you grit your bloodied teeth and press the gun further.
Aventurine looks dazed, staring up into your bloodied face. If you weren't in such agonizing pain you would have laughed at how stupid he looks.
"[Y. Name]..."
"I hope you go to hell," you hiss through the bloody pain. "And I hope that when I get there, I'll never have to fucking see you again."
You pull the trigger to that beautiful face of his, but nothing happens once again. Fuck. It falls to the ground as the pain overwhelms you and you finally stagger. It lays among the specks of blood on the carpet, along with its empty... case...
Your eyes flick to Aventurine, still caught off guard and staring at you with wide eyes. Hesitantly, he reaches out to your convulsing body and cradles your head. "[Y. Name]..." He says, still sounding dazed. "Why would you..."
"Fuckin'... coward..." You grit out. "I was right... from the very start..."
Aventurine watches as you succumb to the pain and collapse in his arms. Despite being unconscious, the collar continues to shock and choke you, and more and more blood spouts from the side of your mouth and into the carpet. He tries to wipe it, despite it continuing like a fountain, before giving up and stroking your hair as the pain continues to intrude on you in your sleep.
"I know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your eyelid. "You know it as well as me." He presses a kiss onto the other.
"You were never a bet I was willing to wager."
#yandere honkai star rail#yandere aventurine#yandere hsr#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr aventurine#yandere x reader#yester.writes
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Bats Need Lives Too
Requested Here!
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x wife!reader
Summary: Bruce and the boys have bad days, and as their mom, it's your job to make them better.
Warnings: Bruce and Damian are on the autism spectrum, Jason jokes about dying, mentions of murder and Joker, fluff and comfort
Word Count: 2.1k+ words
Masterlist Directory | DC Masterlist | Request Info
Photo from Wayne Family Adventures on Webtoon (via Google)
A/N: I don't have autism so I based this depictions off research and common symptoms; if it's inaccurate, please let me know and I'll do my best to fix it!
“Bruce!” you yell from the top of the stairs. “Damian!”
You pause, but there’s no reply. Taking a step down, you hit the creaky stair that Bruce hasn’t fixed (for security purposes).
“Ma,” Jason greets as he comes up the stairs. “I’m going to go get some sleep. I told B and the demon brat to do the same, but you know them.”
You smile at his attempt to stay on your good side and wave him past as you wish him a good night. He has a room at the manor like all of the kids do, but it depends on their day and Bruce’s mood as to whether or not they use it.
“Bruce, honey,” you call again as you descend into the Batcave. “It’s time for bed. You too, Damian.”
“We’re almost finished,” Damian replies without looking away from the screen.
“Bruce,” you repeat firmly.
“Almost done,” he mumbles.
You look up toward Wanye Manor, then reach over Bruce’s shoulder to turn the computer monitors off. Damian huffs as Bruce continues to stare at the black screen.
“Boys,” you begin again, squatting between them with a hand on their shoulders. “I know you’re getting close, but you have to sleep. Especially you, Dami.”
Damian considers it for a moment, then nods. Bruce turns toward you slowly, and you smile when his eyes meet yours.
“I’ll hug you both until you agree to go upstairs if that’s what it takes,” you threaten.
That threat used to be more effective before Damian came to expect your hugs daily. Both he and Bruce, all of the Bats for that matter, tend to run from love, but you’ve become the loving mother they need, even when they don’t like it.
“Go to bed, get some sleep, eat some breakfast in the morning, and I promise Gotham will still be here when you’re ready to investigate more.”
Damian slips away from your hand and walks toward the stairs. He calls a weak, “Goodnight,” over his shoulder as you take his previous seat and look at Bruce. He looks tired, though you’ve come to expect it now.
“Bad day?” you murmur, gently taking his face in your hands.
“Will I always be two steps behind?” he asks against your palm.
“If you don’t stop to rest, you’ll be three steps behind,” you answer honestly.
“You’re supposed to say, no, love and light of my life, you’re doing great,” Bruce teases.
“And you’re supposed to listen to me. Now, are you going to bed with me, or shall I invite Goliath to keep your spot warm?”
“When did you become the bad cop?” Bruce asks as he pulls you up and against his chest.
“Since your children started acting just like you.”
“What will Alfred think?” Bruce asks dramatically.
“That he deserves five times as much vacation time now that there’s so many of you.”
When Damian’s teacher at Gotham Preparatory called you in for her concerns about Damian’s behavior, you took what she said seriously. You knew about Damian’s past and his family, of course; when she kindly suggested having him screened for autism, you already knew what the doctor would say. You’ve suspected for years that Bruce was on the spectrum, but having him or his children screened would be a Gotham Gazette headline and a press nightmare that you did not need. So, you did your own research on how to help your boys whenever they need it. Within a few days, Damian was interested in your new approach and set out to learn about the disorder with you.
“Dick told me it was impolite to call people disgraces, but disordered is acceptable?” Damian asked as he read an article on the screening process.
“The person isn’t disordered, Dami, it’s a neurological and developmental disorder. That just means the way you learn, and act isn’t the same as normal people,” you explained. “Though, personally, normal has always felt like more of an insult.”
Damian tutted in agreement before he continued reading, and you smiled as you flipped through a list of symptoms you’ve seen in the manor for years. Many of them had occurred before Damian came along.
“Hey!” Dick calls as he and Jason enter the manor. “So, gala tonight. Is it mandatory?”
“It is,” you answer with a sympathetic frown. “Though if you bring a date, I’d be more than happy to make up excuses for why you leave early.”
“That’s never gotten me out of patrol before,” Jason argues.
“Are you talking about when Poison Ivy doused you with her plant toxin?” you reply.
“I wanted to leave early with a date.”
“She would have killed you,” Dick interjects. “What is wrong with you?”
Jason shrugs as he uses his default answer of, “Died once.”
“That’s enough,” you stop them with a chuckle. “Yes, you have to come to the gala, but you don’t have to stay the whole time. Especially if you’d like to take Damian with you when you leave.”
“I thought he was doing better,” Jason says.
“He’s getting better at the social communication issues, but, you know, it’s Gotham and he’s got a social battery just like the rest of us.”
“Is that why you’ve been separating him and Bruce?” Dick asks.
“Just on the bad days. They need space and a chance to do something they actually like. It’s worked better than anything else, and then, when they’re ready, I force them to receive my love.”
Jason shudders dramatically before you direct them to see Alfred for their suits for the gala. Dick and Jason both hug you on their way out, and you sigh as you return your attention to a memo for Wayne Enterprises about Bruce’s upcoming sabbatical. He doesn’t know it’s coming, but he needs it, and you will make him take it.
The night after the gala, you roll over in bed and reach for Bruce. His side of the bed is empty, and you open your eyes after your arm meets the cold sheet where your husband should be. You swing your legs off the bed, reach for your robe, and sigh tiredly. Bruce has been running himself ragged recently. You know why, there’s been a string of murders and timed escapes from Arkham, but he can’t solve everything in a night sitting in the Batcave.
He's been Batman more than Bruce the last week, and it’s time for you to step in and intervene. The Batcave is cold at night, and you pull your robe tighter around you as you walk toward Bruce’s back. He’s still in his cape and cowl, and when you sit beside him, he glances over quickly but pointedly avoids your eyes. You lay your hand on his arm, but he rolls his shoulder and opens the same file for the third time since you arrived. He’s getting obsessive and repetitive, and if you don’t stop him now, he’ll get impulsive and get himself or one of your kids hurt.
“Bruce are you okay?” you ask softly.
Bruce stands quickly, knocking his chair over and letting your hand fall back to your lap. “Do I look okay?” he exclaims, throwing his hands up.
You raise your hands but don’t speak. Bruce turns away quickly and reaches for the computer controls. Slowly, you stand and place your fingers over his wrist. Bruce slows but doesn’t stop or look at you.
“Why are you wearing the cowl?” you ask.
“I have to stop him before he does it to someone else.”
“Joker?” you guess.
Bruce’s jaw tightens, and his forearm stiffens beneath your touch as his fingers curl into a fist.
“Bruce, you need a break. A real break, not just a walk around the manor while you think about it.”
“And if it happens while I’m on a break? Then I have even more blood on my hands!”
You shake your head and take his hands in yours. “It will be on mine, too, then. But do not take yourself away from me and the boys because of him. He’s done more than enough.”
“I have to finish. Batman has to end this.”
“And you will, but right now, you’re only hurting yourself and the people closest to you. Exactly what he wants.”
Bruce drops his head before he releases your hand to rip the cowl away from his face. You smile at him, but his eyes are on the floor.
“You need sleep,” you whisper.
Bruce nods and turns away from you to remove the rest of his equipment. Your love may be tough love sometimes, but it is what Bruce needs on days like today.
“Where are the boys?” you ask.
“Damian’s here, in bed. Dick and Jason are in Blüdhaven and Tim is on patrol.”
“Alone?”
“Helena’s with him,” Bruce assures you. “He’s safe.”
“Then leave Batman, the files, the lack of sleep, all of it down here, and let’s get you somewhere safe, too.”
Bruce allows you to lead him upstairs and into bed, but before you can ask if he feels better, his arm tightens around you as he drifts to sleep.
“Good morning,” Alfred greets.
“Good morning, Alfred,” you reply. “Bruce won’t be joining us just yet.”
“Thank goodness. If only his child felt the same urge for resting.”
“Damian?” you assume.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll bring him to breakfast. Thanks, Alfred.”
Alfred nods and resumes cooking as you begin searching the manor for Damian. He tends to gravitate toward the room with the most swords, the display room on the third floor. As you enter with a knock, Damian keeps his eyes on the floor. A row of model cars is lined up before him, and the weapons on the wall are untouched.
“Hi, Dami,” you say.
“Mother,” he answers quickly.
“Are you practicing or playing?”
“There is no reason to continue practicing,” he answers.
You take a deep breath as you lean against the back of the chair. Damian has done this before, restricted himself from one of his hobbies, and it’s the hardest thing to bring him back from.
“Why not?” you inquire.
“I understand that there are more things I should know how to do, regardless of my interest in it.”
“Dami, you can do what you like. You don’t have to be a stereotype.”
“I am not a stereotype; I am simply expanding my skillset.”
“By…”
“Memorizing the make, model, and best year of popular cars.”
“I see,” you respond as you sit in the chair. “And these are in… year order?”
“Alphabetical model.”
You nod and look at the row of cars. “Is the blue one a Corvette? Because it should be on the other side of the Camaro.”
Damian freezes momentarily before he sinks to his knees and flips the car over. He sets it down and shoves it harshly, sending it into the wall as he presses his fists into the floor. You move to sit beside him but don’t touch him.
“Breathe,” you encourage. “It’s okay.”
“I can’t change them,” he mumbles. “It doesn’t work.”
“That’s okay. Put them however you want.”
“Will Baba allow me to patrol this evening?” he asks, changing the topic.
“That depends. He’s taking a break right now.”
“Then I should be out defending Gotham!”
Damian stands quickly and pulls a katana from the display case. He looks at it, then returns it.
“Dami, not right now,” you say as you stand.
“I don’t need Batman with me!” he argues.
“I’m not saying you do, Damian. What do you need here, in the manor?”
Damian shakes his head, and you remain in your place. Damian’s shoulders drop slowly, and he picks up the Corvette he shoved away to return it to its place. You smile when he looks up at you, and Damian stands closer to you as you tell him that Alfred is making breakfast.
“C’mon,” you urge him. “Let’s go eat and when Bruce wakes up, you can ask him about patrol.”
“Perhaps I could take a break as well,” he suggests.
“That would be nice,” you agree. “Maybe you’d like to join me for a movie night.”
“Movie night?!” Dick yells from the dining room. “I’m in!”
You and Damian shake your heads together as you walk in.
“Maybe it should be a family night,” Bruce interjects from the head of the table.
Damian sits beside you as you begin discussing which movie to watch. While Damian joins the discussion, Bruce meets your eyes from across the table and mouths, Thank you.
You shrug. You’re the mom of Gotham’s Bats, it’s your job to keep them in line and remind them to live.
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne oneshot#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne#fem!reader#requests#batfamily#jason todd#dick grayson#damian wayne#tim drake#alfred pennyworth#hanna writes✯
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Vouyer [Abby A.]
||Men, minors, and ageless DNI
CW: 18+, wlw, a lot of porn - a pinch of plot if you squint and turn your head, subbottom!abby, domtop!reader, Abby getting caught, masturbation, voyeurism cus reader watches her for a hot minute, fingering(A!receiving), tribbing, perv!reader and perv!abby kinda, overstimulation, Abby cries a lil bit
AN: I feel like my brain fizzed out near the end idk. I think I'm cooked. Anyways, hope this doesn't suck ass as much as my brain is telling me it does!
Masterlist. Divider creds DON'T FORGET ABOUT PALESTINE
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ "Just like that- fuck" the words escape her lips, sounding strained and breathless. A thin layer of sweat coats her toned body as she fills herself up to the best of her ability, her thick fingers ramming in and out of her used, sloppy cunt as she chases her orgasm for the third time tonight.
This was not how she had planned for her night to go, but if you could have only seen just how pretty you'd looked; drenched in sweat from head to toe, clothes sticking to every curve of your bruised and bloodied body after such a close call on patrol earlier that day. She'd almost compromised herself just to get a glimpse of you looking like that. Her piercing blue eyes tracked your every movement, once the threat - a pack of infected that had attacked while you were both searching for supplies - was gone.
Or at least she'd thought they were at the time until she felt a pair of gnarled and decaying hands grab onto her shoulders. She killed the thing herself, of course, knocking the stalker off balance with one hard whack of a steel pipe before throwing it onto the ground, forcing the heel of her boot down onto its sprouting head with a splat. Not realizing that it was you she had been distracted by, you gave her a disapproving eye roll and she winced.
It was her own fault you weren't that fond of her, the blonde has ignored you since you first showed up at the WLF a few months back. Even when you became roommates, Abby's demeanor towards you was always cold and disinterested. It was stupid but she figured it was best. She was unable to even think about saying a word to you without her palms sweating. She just knew she'd fuck up and stumble over her words, making herself look weak in front of you and she couldn't have that.
When Abby learned that you were going to spend part of your night drinking with Manny, Owen, and Nora, she took the opportunity to lie.
" 'm tired. Think I'm gonna just go to bed" she had mumbled, feigning exhaustion, going so far as to force a yawn out before she walked back to the room. Alone.
The girl didn't make it five minutes without touching herself, getting comfortable in bed, and shoving her hand down her underwear. Dumbly, she figured that maybe if she just got off once, she could get the image of you out of her brain.
That was how she got where she is now. Naked, driving her middle and ring fingers as deep as she can get them, pumping them in and out of her cunt, her other hand joining as she rubs feverishly over her sensitive clit. The scene is downright pornographic, the sloshing sounds coming from Abby's body as she fucks herself stupid on her own fingers, her jaw slack, your name spilling from her soft lips in sinful prayer.
She wants it to be you so bad, it's almost pathetic.
She can't bring herself to stop - she just knows it'd feel so much better if your hands replaced her own and the rest of her body seems to agree with that thought. So much so that every time she tries to stop or give herself a break that ache comes back full force, a heartbeat forming between her thick thighs. It gets so bad that she considers walking to your side of the room and grabbing one of your t-shirts because at this point your scent could get her there.
"Jus' one more, one more, baby pleasepleaseplease - holy shit"
That third orgasm hits Abby like a truck, her begging eventually becoming a mess of incoherent babbling under her breath, her body twitching as she comes down from her high. Again. And again, it isn't enough. She can't take her mind off of just how fucking good you would look on top of her - god - the mere thought of having your pretty pussy slotted up against hers is enough to make her crave more.
Abby lets out a deep sigh and plops her head back down onto the pillow underneath her as she tries to catch her breath, thinking maybe she should just try to sleep it off. Despite her better judgement though, she finds herself with the pads of her fingers back on her puffy, pulsing clit, stroking herself in languid circular motions.
You stood in the entryway of your room, peeking your head in the door to watch as Abby fucking Anderson of all people split herself on her fingers, letting out the prettiest moans as she chases her release. You knew that you should probably just close the door and quietly sneak away. Go back to the mess hall with your group, maybe pretend you forgot something, and then conveniently "lose track of time" while you were there so that your roommate could finish her little "session".
You really were going to leave. As a matter of fact, you were halfway through closing the door when you heard something that made you stop in your tracks. It was Abby.
And she was moaning your name.
The sound was unmistakable as it was one of the only words you were able to fully recognize through her stupor of bated breaths and blissed-out whining. The frigid, unstoppable force of a soldier that had been ignoring your existence for months was actually begging for you, crying out your name over and over again as she fucked herself.
You found yourself biting your lip at the sound, and before you knew it, you were tip-toeing all the way into your shared room. You practically held your breath as you closed the door behind you, freezing completely once it clicked shut and lightly punching the air in silent celebration once you had confirmed you managed to sneak in undetected.
It was all so perverted, and yet you couldn't stop staring
You were leaning up against the wall beside the door, trying your best to be quiet and resist the urge to shove your hand down your own pants as you watched Abby's naked body convulse under her fingers when she came, eyes trailing over her body as she rode out her high.
It became clear pretty quickly that she'd been at this for a while, unable to satisfy herself completely. You watched as she began to start herself up again, her hand making its way back down between her thighs, her legs twitching still from her previous climax. From what you can see of her face, she seems a bit frustrated, her eyebrows knotted together in almost anger as she lazily works her fingers on her clit. She looks and sounds so precious that, before you can fully think it through, you speak.
"Still not finished?"
Abby nearly falls out of her bed with how quickly she shoots upward, covering herself with her blanket, a deep red blush fanning out along her freckled cheeks. It doesn't take much for her to realize that you heard her, your expression telling her everything she needed to know.
"I was, uh-..."
"Yeah, I heard...and saw" you interrupt, making your way over to the blonde's bed, unable to contain your amusement at the situation as your eyes trail over her.
" 'S this why you've been avoiding me, baby?"
She just stares at you, not fully knowing why she can't bring herself to do anything - to deny your suspicion, yell at you, or do something that would make her stop feeling so vulnerable right now. But she just looks up at you, mouth slightly agape.
"You could have just asked me for some help with that if you wanted it, y'know." you continue, gently gripping her under her chin to make her look at you.
Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, Abby considers pulling away from you. Getting mad and reasserting her dominance or something but you both know that isn't going to happen. You catch a glimpse of her fingers, glistening and wrinkly from how long she's been trying to get herself off, and your suspicions are confirmed which only emboldens you to go further. You lean down a bit closer, your face so close to hers that your noses nearly touch.
"You can't satisfy yourself no matter how hard you try, can you?"
Abby squirms a little but she shakes her head slightly in response, eyes breaking contact with yours but your hand never releases her jaw. You've never seen her look this exposed before - not only in terms of her nakedness but she just looked so vulnerable and small right now, despite her actual size.
You press a kiss to her lips, and she practically melts into you, allowing you to lay her back down on the mattress and crawl on top of her, your hand caught in her loosened braid. The other hand wanders down between her legs, eager to feel the sticky mess that shes turned herself into over the thought of you.
The sweet little whines she gives you as you circle your fingers along her clit are so unfamiliar coming from her but oh so welcome as opposed to her usual stoicism. You almost feel bad for the fact that shes had to wait for so long to finally get that release shes in desperate need of. A release that can only seem to be triggered by your hand.
If Abby wasn't already embarrassed for having been caught, she was sure as hell embarrassed with how quickly you got her to cum on your fingers. You've barely gotten the chance to get them inside of her before her irises roll back, head thrown onto the pillow beneath her as her body twitches in ecstasy.
"S-sorry, I-"
You see her begin to apologize but she's cut off completely at the sight of you sucking her essence off of your fingers, her words being yanked right from her mouth as her arousal comes back with a force. She knows she's way too sensitive to do anything else, but the thought of saying no to you right now doesnt even cross her mind as an option once you start pulling off your clothes.
It's all she can do to keep her hands to herself while you strip. Those vivid blue eyes are glued to your body, enamored by the perfection being uncovered in front of her. You place yourself back on top of her, hiking her leg up over your shoulder and lowering yourself until her cunt is pressed flush against your own. You let out a simultaneous groan at the feeling, grinding yourself down onto her with little regard for how sensitive she is.
"Hnmn- fuck" Abby's hips buck upward involuntarily, her body telling her that she's had enough, but it feels too good to stop.
She couldn't tell you it was too much if she wanted to anyway, every attempted word coming out of her mouth as incoherent whines and half-finished syllables. You watch her face intently as a few tears begin to make their way down her reddened cheeks and it only makes you pick up the pace, pressing wet kisses against the side of her calf as your clit perfectly ruts against hers with each thrust.
"You've wanted this so fuckin' bad, haven't you?" You tease her through gritted teeth, the words spilling out without much thought.
"Want me to fuck you till you cant fuckin breathe, hm?"
All that comes out of Abby in response are breathless "yes's" all jumbled into one word followed desperate little whines, her fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips as if she's afraid you'll stop if she lets go.
"G'na cu- ohmygod" she tries to warn but the poor girl can barely think. You hear her loud and clear though, making a point to apply a bit more pressure, the sloppy noises coming from your bodies moving against one another in tandem bringing you close as well.
The orgasm that results sends electricity through your body, pleasure that's only heightened by the uncontained scream that pulls from Abby's throat when she cums with you, drenching your inner thighs even more. She doesn't even seem to care if anyone hears her, too fucked out to even try to keep her mouth shut. Mercifully, you take the responsibility away from her, crashing your lips onto hers and muffling the sound in the hard, wet kiss.
The euphoria lingers even after you've slowed to a stop, heavy, labored breathing and Abby's soft whimpers the only sounds that occupy the room. A low chuckle escapes you as you pepper soft kisses along her cheeks, your thumb accompanying to wipe up her pretty tears.
AN: One thing I suck at doing is thinking of a way to fuckin close these
reblogs appreciated☆requests open
Almost forgot, taglist: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery, @ikoinsblog
#lesbian#wlw#☆kennie's works#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x female reader#abby the last of us#the last of us#abby tlou2#tlou2 smut#tlou2
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WHO’S YOUR DADDY?
Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 2,7k
Part 2 of Table for Three (can be read alone)
Summary: Joel Face Times you.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm (kinda), not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, squirting, m!oral, f/m masturbation, cum eating, voyeurism, exhibitionism, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetie). Pics are for the mood only, reader has hair, but no other specific physical descriptions.
A/n: I saw that video and had to write this. Pedro is such a menace! Warm hugs to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b❤️Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💖 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Hope you’ll like it! Love you all😘
Pt 1 TABLE FOR THREE || GET A TASTE || MASTERLIST
“Who’s your daddy?”
“Fuck off, Joel, you know it’s not you.”
Joel is Face Timing you while you’re still lying in bed in the early afternoon after a night of passionate fucking with your boyfriend Dave.
You are surprised by your ex’s call but can’t deny that after last week when you sucked him off at a restaurant, meanwhile sitting on Dave’s cock, the surprise is pleasant.
Joel’s in his bedroom, judging by the background, and he looks so hot, you immediately gush. His hair is slicked back, chocolatey eyes sparking with mischief and his five day stubble is calling to be rubbed against your pussy.
“Yeah, I know Dave’s your dom daddy now. Is he with ya?”
“Dom daddy,” you snicker, rolling your eyes, “you watch too much porn, Joel.”
“Yeah, ya think I’m beating my own meat every day, cryin’ over you, babe?
“Aren’t you?”
You both stare at each other but Joel cracks first as a smile tugs at his lips and you both laugh. After a few moments you remember the question he asked.
“Dave’s in the kitchen. Why are you calling? I thought you had me blocked. Or vice versa.”
“Well, i reckon, none of us could say ‘goodbye’”.
“Oh, I can now. Bye, Joel!”
“Wait, wait, baby,” he gruffs hastily through the phone speaker, stopping you from hanging up.
“What?”
“I need to ask ya somethin’. ‘s important”. He narrows his eyes, his expression is serious.
“What is it?”
Joel’s squinting at you for a few seconds while you’re taking in his combed back curls, his handsome tanned face, broad shoulders under a plaid shirt. Every time he talks, his voice makes your pussy tingle, sounding even sexier through the phone. Finally he breaks the silence.
“What are you wearin’?”
You can’t help but laugh.
“You’re an asshole, Joel.”
“I’m just a man in love.”
You giggle, raising your brows and shaking your head in disbelief.
“You hated me a few days ago.”
“I did, baby. But I let the past go.”
You take a deep breath, feeling your guilt for what you did years ago slightly lifted off your heart.
“So?” He presses.
“I’m not telling you, Joel.”
“Ok, then just show me.”
You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Your eyes dart to the door where you hear Dave, making breakfast for you two. You don’t think he would mind you flirting with your ex a little, considering he let you give the older man a handie in front of him. Besides, you look very cute in your sexy nightie with nothing else underneath so you change the angle of the phone so Joel could peek at your body, splayed on the bed, a blanket covering just a part of your leg.
You hear a whistle and your heart sings.
“Pretty, babygirl. Did he buy it for ya?”
“He did,” you reply with defiance in your voice.
“‘s he rich?”
“Dave’s doing fine. But I’m with him not because of money if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Ain’t implying anythin’.”
Then you just look at each other as the air in the rooms gets heavier and a light flirting morphs into something else. Joel breaks the silence first.
“I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”
You haven’t expected that and suddenly your throat gets squeezed with emotions.
“Thank you, Joel,” you say softly.
“Who are you talking to?”
Dave walks into the room with two mugs of coffee and the aroma quickly fills the bedroom. He’s wearing a gray tee and a pair of sweatpants.
“Joel’s FaceTiming me.”
“Joel?” Dave repeats with his brows raised.
He puts the coffees on the nightstand and lies down next to you and your mouth waters as his scent engulfs you.
You shift the position of the phone so Joel could see you both and Dave greets your ex.
“Joel says that he’s happy for me,” you tell your boyfriend with excitement in your voice.
“Oh, thank you, Joel. I’m glad that you two solved your past issues.”
“Her apology really helped, man. I wouldn’t say no to another one though.”
Joel winks at you and Dave smirks, “I understand. She’s very good at apologizing.”
Your eyes are darting between the two men. You can’t shake the feeling of wanting them both and your pussy tingles with desire. Dave’s body pressed to yours sends a surge of arousal to your core and you feel the cold air of the room on your bare wet folds and shiver with excitement. Joel is making you even hornier. He looks hot and masculine with his slightly wet hair. He must have had a shower.
For a second you remember how he made you squirt for the first time. On his knees in the shower in front of you he licked at your pussy and sucked your clit until your legs started trembling but he didn’t stop and began pumping his thick fingers into you, curving them and pushing on that sweet spot in your burning core. In no time you were spraying your juices everywhere, his hand squelching against your folds as he was repeatedly hitting your clit with the heel of his palm. Only your hands on his broad shoulders helped you not to collapse on the floor.
“Kitten!”
Dave calls you, not for the first time apparently, and you blink at him trying to shake the images of the past that were occupying your mind just a second ago.
Joel laughs, “Babygirl, were you thinking of us just now?”
“No,” you mumble, averting your eyes from both of them.
“You’re lying,” Dave says, not asking, and you see his gaze darken. It’s filled with curiosity and lust.
“Tell me what you were thinking about.”
“I—I just,” you stutter, looking at one man and then the other.
“It’s ok, kitten. You two had a past. Daddy wants to know.”
You swallow loudly and reply, “I was remembering—.” It’s so quiet in the room. “—how Joel made me squirt for the first time.”
Joel’s smug grin can be seen from fucking space. He looks sickeningly proud of himself and you immediately regret telling them.
Dave smiles carnally, as if he was waiting for that, and asks,
“How did it happen?”
“In the shower. He ate me out and fingered me.”
Dave turns his face to your phone and asks Joel, “Did you plan on doing it?”
“Yeah, I wanted her to squirt all over me. Does she squirt with you?”
“Yes, she’s a talented girl. Thank you for giving her her first time,” your boyfriend says to your ex and you’re afraid that you’re going to soak through your nightie. But Dave doesn’t give you a respite.
“Kitten, say ‘thank you’ to Joel.”
“Thank you, Joel,” you purr obediently and the older man winks at you through the screen.
“You’re welcome, babygirl.”
You see Dave adjust himself and notice that his prominent bulge has grown even bigger since he joined you two on the bed. He’s enjoying Joel’s call just as much as you are.
Not being able to wait any longer, you get closer to your boyfriend and put your head on his shoulder. With your big eyes looking up at him, batting your lashes the way you know makes his cock twitch, you ask,
“Can we fuck, daddy?”
You hear Joel curse under his breath and then groan. It’s clear that he wishes to be here with you.
“It’s a little rude, baby,” Dave chides you, “We haven’t finished talking to our friend, have we?”
You whine, pouting your lips and he turns to you and pecks your nose.
“How about you put your pretty mouth on my cock and I’ll talk to Joel.”
You hear Joel’s half chuckle-half grunt and almost drool at the suggestion and swiftly reply with an ‘ok, daddy.”
Then you give Dave your phone and climb down the bed, getting comfortable between your boyfriend’s legs, your head hovering over his huge bulge.
“We can talk, Joel, but maybe you’d like to watch as well?”
You don’t see your ex but you know his eyes are obsidian with lust right now.
“Fuck, yeah. Show me what our— your little slut is up to.”
Dave presses the reverse camera button and positions it with his big hands so Joel can see you perfectly.
By now you have already freed Dave’s semi hard cock and it twitches as you’re holding it inches from your lips. You smile at the camera and give Joel a wink.
“Show daddies what that mouth’s good for,” Joel encourages you and Dave smirks, “You’re right. Sucking cock is truly her calling.”
Eager to prove them right you wrap your hand around the base of Dave’s cock tighter, open your lips and circle them around the fat head.
Your boyfriend bucks his hips, impatient to slide his whole length into your mouth, but you decide to give them both a show so you lick a wet languid stripe from the base of Dave’s cock to the weeping tip, covering the underside with your warm saliva.
Then you kitten-lick the slit, gathering his clear precum, and a moan escapes your lips at the taste, as you flutter your eyes shut.
“Shit, Dave, ya lucky bastard.”
“Her mouth is fucking heaven, Joel. Baby, show our friend what you can do to daddy’s balls.”
You smile and nod, before lowering your head. Your hand is still holding Dave’s cock but your tongue is now licking at your boyfriend’s balls, and you tilt your head to get a better angle.
“Fuck, babygirl. Doin’ real good,” you hear Joel’s praise, followed by a sound of a zipper.
Your ears immediately perk up and you ask, parting from Dave’s balls for a moment,
“Joel, are you gonna jerk off?”
“‘m afraid so, sweetheart. If Dave doesn’t mind.”
“I don’t, Joel,” Dave says, his half lidded eyes shifting between you, gliding your cheek against his cock, and the man on the screen, “let’s see if this little slut can make two men come. A bit of a challenge for my kitten.”
You purr at his words, feeling your heated pussy ache with need and pressing your thighs together.
“Can I touch myself, daddy?” You ask as impatience paints your words.
“Not yet, baby. Work my balls a little more and maybe I’ll let you come.”
The hope is all you need so you get back to Dave’s heavy balls and start sucking on them, licking the seam and then open your jaw wide to take one in your mouth. As you’re rolling it with your tongue, you hear Joel’s growling and the sound of him fucking his fist.
Dave’s eyes are set on your lips wrapped around his ball but from time to time his gaze flicks to the phone where Joel is pumping his cock and you moan at the fact that the image of your ex, pleasuring himself turns on your boyfriend.
Dave’s dominant, always controls the situation, but you’ve noticed that he loves seeing what you do to other men, how much you affect them. You suspect that’s one of the reasons why he loves such a giant slut like you.
“Ok, kitten, get to the main course,” Dave commands and you part from his ball with a pop so you could give his cock your full attention.
Through the squelching sounds coming through the speaker you hear Joel encouraging you,
“Yeah, deepthroat that cock, babygirl. Still can’t forget how good you could swallow me. Remember, sweetie?”
You slightly nod with your boyfriend's tip already breaching your puffy lips. You unhinge your jaw and slowly take him all in, soon nuzzling his trimmed hair. Dave groans and clenches your hair with a tight grip, gently rolling his hips to help you swallow him.
“That’s my good girl. Take everything I give you. Make daddy proud.”
Your throat contracts around your boyfriend’s cock while the fap-fap-fap noises, coming from the phone, are getting faster.
“Fuck, Dave, are we gonna come at the same time?”
Dave chuckles as his dark eyes almost close with pleasure.
“Yeah, I’m gonna feed it to her soon. Get ready.”
“Let’s do it, man,” Joel almost moans.
“You too, kitten. Play with your little pussy. Bet it’s so messy right now.”
You take Dave’s cock out of your mouth and croak, “Thank you, daddy.”
To give them both the best view, you lift your ass in the air, getting on your knees, and the bottom of your nightie slides down to your waist. Now Dave and Joel can see your naked ass as a background of the blowie. Your hand slithers to your pussy and your fingers dip between your folds. Dave’s right — you’re dripping like a faucet.
You easily insert two fingers into your hole as your mouth swallows Dave’s cock again. You start plunging your digits in and out of your warm cunt, slightly rolling your hips while your head bobs as you’re massaging Dave’s manhood.
The groans of your boyfriend and your ex fill the room, mixing with your muffled moans and whimpers.
Dave’s leaking a lot into your eager mouth and you know he’s close.
“Fuck, if I was there with ya, we’d fuck all your holes, babygirl,” Joel grunts, his teeth clenched, as he’s probably trying not to bust his load just yet.
“Would you take her ass or her pussy, Joel?” Dave asks and your cunt clenches around your own fingers.
“You’d share her with me like that?” Joel asks.
“I’m a generous host, Joel. You can choose.”
“I’d fuck her pussy, pal. I miss it more than anything. She’s sloppy all the fucking time. Loved her sweet cunt.”
“‘k, I’d be fine with the ass. I work her open fast now. She sometimes wears a plug. Pretty little toy. We’ll show you one day.”
“Be happy to see it.”
Your ex and your boyfriend’s discussion about fucking your holes like you’re their mindless fuck toy is the final drop in a full glass of your pleasure and you overflow with ecstasy as your pussy spills squirt all over your hand, between your thighs and on the bed under you while you’re moaning loudly around Dave’s cock.
The vibrations of your throat and your euphoric expression makes him explode too and he satisfies your thirst, spurting his cum down your throat. Dave gives you so much, you almost choke on his thick load but swallow it swiftly again and again.
“Fuck yeah, babygirl, drink it up,” Joel groans, probably seeing the creamy seed, seeping out of the corners of your lips, and makes a loud grunt, the sound so familiar and dear to you.
You know he’s coming.
The noises from the speaker get wetter and you regret not being able to taste your ex too.
When you take everything Dave gives you, you pull your mouth away from his cock and rest your head on his hairy thigh, catching your breath and licking your puffy lips.
“You did it, kitten. You made us both come. And at the same time,” Dave praises you, gently patting your head, and you purr, closing your eyes with satisfaction. Your body is pleasantly tingling after a great orgasm.
“Can I talk to her, Dave?” you hear Joel’s tired voice and lift your head up.
“Of course,” Dave turns the screen to you and you see your ex’s face on the screen, cheeks redder than before, his eyes hazy. He smiles at you warmly and rasps,
“Thank you, babygirl. I enjoyed the show. Now I need another shower,” he laughs and you and Dave both follow.
“Ok, Joel, was good talking to you. Among other things,” Dave says, turning the phone back at him, “We should meet. We have a lot to discuss. And share.”
“Yeah, Dave. Any time.”
The promise of them both fucking you makes your pussy tingle again and you bite your lip, already daydreaming about it.
Dave hangs up and throws your phone on the bed.
“I’m proud of you, kitten. You did great. Now go get your prize and sit on daddy’s face. Let me clean this messy pussy.”
You almost squeal with excitement, immediately following his order.
Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more stories for you, lovelies!💖🌺
Table for Three || Get a Taste || Masterlist
General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk
Also tagging some wonderful people who might be interested❤️ @bonezone44 @janaispunk @neverwheremoonchild @survivingandenduring @tammythr @604to647 @baronessvonglitter
If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#dave york#Joel miller x you x Dave York#joel miller smut#pedro pascal characters#dave york x reader#joel miller x you#dave york x you#joel miller x reader#the last of us#dave york x female reader#joel miller tlou#equalizer 2#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#the last of us fic#table for three fic
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when sarah and john b had decided they wanted to recruit you to join their relationship, there were a few subtle steps they had planned to take.
𐙚₊˚⊹♡
they saw your potential. they knew perhaps you weren’t the most overtly sexual in nature, but they also knew they could change that. sex was like cake, you could never just eat one spoonful of it. all they had to do, was pique your interest — not just in sex, but in sex with them specifically.
baby steps. you ask sarah to send her the videos she took of you guys from the party the night before, and she ‘accidentally’ includes a video of her and john b fucking she’d taken on her phone the same day. of course she acted bashful, apologising profusely for the mistake and acting incredibly grateful when you’d told her there was no problem and that you’d delete it.
‘yk i wouldn’t even really care if you watched it tbh. i trust you. its only me and john b anyway… 🤷🏼♀️💕’
— she’d text you after a moments passed. curiosity of course got the better of you, a shaky, clammy finger pressing the play button as you nervously bite your nail, glancing at the door and turning the volume way down as precaution as if someone were to catch you. the focus seemed to be on sarah, grinding her hips to ride the brunette boy, soft tits bouncing as he lazily smacks her ass and encourages her to keep riding. she seemed to be putting in the work, john b merely used as a vessel for pleasure, a dildo with a voice box— and something about that had you shamefully heating up. sure, your knowledge on sex was fairly limited — but what you did know through movies and tv shows was that guys were usually too prideful to let the girl do the work, yet therefore caring less for her pleasure. the two of them seemed… open. different.
the text of apparent permission sarah had sent you only made you feel the slightest bit less guilty when you snuck your hand down the waistband of your panties and humped clumsily at your palm as you hit replay.
the blonde cameron had facetimed you suddenly and out of the blue seven minutes later. you yanked your hand out your pants like there’d be a way for her to see you before you’d accepted the call and you swallow thickly, brain too frazzled to think before hitting the green button. she was smiling, laying on her bed in that white tank top that hugged her tits, the same tits from the video and accentuated her golden, barbie tan. you try and be normal about it. she’s just your friend after all.
“hey, what are you doing right now?”
you blink at her, the way she’s smiling at you — before checking yourself out in the small box in the corner. you look all heated and askew, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. fuck.
you told her you were watching a movie and then excused yourself not even two minutes later, overcome with embarrassment and the feeling of being caught. sarah rolls over once the call ends, smirking to john b who was reclined on her bed with a hand behind his head, scrolling through his own phone.
“she was totally getting herself off.” she purs matter-of-factly. the brunette boys eyes light up a little as he glances over, brows shifting upwards.
“yeah? how’d you know?”
“she had it written all over her face.”
the two of them got greedy, with the whole introducing you to the idea of being chronically horny thing. without even really speaking about it, they figured the more they normalised this kind of behaviour in the group dynamic, the more likely you were to feel comfortable enough to let them hit. jj maybank was sexual in nature to the knowledge of anyone who had the pleasure of having a conversation with him longer than five minutes. he was sure to make it easy and perhaps bridge the gap, they just needed their in.
by that point, you’d started to catch on anyway.
the four of you sit in a small uneven circle on the floor of the chateau, drinking on a friday night. at first you’re a little confused — you were so sure sarah had been hinting at something with you, herself and john b for a while now — but as you sat beside jj on the floor, his arm rested casually behind you, rubbing casual circles on your waist you perhaps started to question whether or not you’d made that up, and really they were just trying to be friendly so they could set you up with their friend.
as soon as the words ‘truth or dare’ leave john b’s mouth with a knowing, yet trusting and warm grin — you knew it was bound to take a turn. with this group, it always did. everything was about sex, whether you were doing it or talking about it or pretending to do it infront of eachother, it was some kind of secret obsession that you could feel yourself feeding into without knowing. a lamb being brought in to be sacrificed, a group of secretly perverted individuals itching to get your sweet, cranberry blood on their hands.
sarah speaks your name when you foolishly pick dare, worried if you had picked truth they’d make you recount all the things you’d hadn’t done. she leans across the circle to you on her hands and knees so her face is right in front of yours, breath in your face, ass in john b’s.
“i want you… to show me how you’d ride a dick.”
“what?”
she pushes back, reaching behind her on the couch and fetching the throw pillow, placing it in the centre of the circle with a mischievous grin. the pillow it long, firm and rectangular — the comfiest of its kind to nap on during the day whilst the group discuss whatever mishap they were planning on getting into that week.
“aw now we’re talkin’” jj gets comfortable, sitting back a little with a jokey grin. nothing about their tone was out of the ordinary, which what made you feel so comfortable.
“i don’t understand?” you smile, tilting your head like a lost puppy which only made you appear more delicious as their prey.
“straddle the pillow… and show us what you’d do if you were to ride an actual, real dick.” sarah explains kindly, even pulling your hand so you would shuffle forward on your knees to the centre of the small circle.
“look, we know you haven’t done that before— no shame in it,” john b shrugs one shoulder understandingly with an air of casualness which calmed you. “but a dares a dare and hey, maybe you could learn something right now.”
“i been told i’mma pretty good teacher too, so—” jj starts casually in his amused drawl, but is cut short pretty quickly by the sarah snapping her head towards him, her tone more curt and snappy.
“jj.” she scolds quickly and he shuts up, but as quickly as she changed her tone, she was back to smiling back at you encouragingly. she didn’t want jj to take it too far with the pervy jokes and send you running. their plan was perfectly crafted, and they didn’t need him ruining it. john b’s eyes linger on the blonde. nothing malicious about it, perhaps a warning though — because jj presses his lips together and moves his glance back to you with a thick swallow.
all in this time, you had decided to take another long swig of your drink before straddling the pillow. the group cheer, the fun and jokey atmosphere back in full swing as you cover your face, giggling into your hands.
your skirt stretches over your upper thighs at the position, and you shuffle — ensuring you’re sat comfortable on the throw cushion. perhaps the alcohol had lowered your guard, because without much thought — you wince, the material catching over your clit. you were sensitive, assumably from ovulation and as you try to get into a comfortable position, your face falls, realising you may be too sensitive to partake.
“uhm,” you clear your throat as the playful jeering dies down.
“go ahead. fulfil your dare.” sarah chuckles, leaning back against the couch behind her.
“i can’t.” you whisper, smile slipping off your face. the couples hearts drop a few millimetres in their chest, thinking perhaps they’d made you uncomfortable and soiled the whole thing. the blonde girls eyebrows furrow, leaning forward and scooching to sit directly infront of you.
“why? are you okay? i’m— i’m sorry—”
“no i’m okay,” you let out an airy laugh that relieves everyone. “maybe i’m just drunk but i’m a little sensitive… don’t think i can sit n’hump this pillow without…” you trail off, your shame sending heat to your cheeks and behind your ears. john b raises his eyebrows slowly in expectation.
“without…?”
you clench your thighs around the pillow, mortified, looking down at it before back up at him with puppy dog eyes and your teeth tucked over your bottom lip all sheepish. made him wanna finger you until you cried.
luckily, sarah’s face lights up with slow realisation, mouth forming an ‘o’ and eyes widening.
“without cumming?” she cooes before swivelling around to look at both boys, laughing in adoration. “aww, you’re sensitive! i didn’t even… know that was a thing!” she beams, and the boys follow, teeth glinting in the low light like hungry hyenas in a cave.
you loosen up a little, shoulders visibly relaxing and you giggle. “yeah… s’just quite a… firm pillow. pressing me in all types of places.” you shrug, girlishly.
“are you seeeeeeriously tellin’ me, that you can’t move back and forth just a little?” jj chuckles, dumbfounded from behind you and you peer shyly over your shoulder with a humble shrug. you wasn’t sure if they were to be making fun of you, but for some odd reason — based off vibes alone, your sensitivity felt like something to be proud of amongst the group. jj licks his lips.
when you turn back, sarah’s in your face again, her warm hands on your knees. she seems comfortable, so you relax into her touch. you notice john b watching the interaction before locking eyes with you and sipping out his beer bottle.
“okay well, a dares a dare, but if you really need someone to help you out…” she giggles, hands sliding up to your hips before she begins to forcefully tug you back and forth — leaving you no choice but to let her make you hump this pillow infront of everyone.
your hands fly to her shoulders to stabilise yourself, sucking in a shaky and unsure gasp as the seams in the fabric repeatedly catch over your clit through your thin panties. the music playing out the speaker seems to get louder, or maybe the blood is just pumping in your ears as the boys let out little encouraging cheers as they chuckle and continue to drink.
sarah tilts her head, hot breath on your jaw as she lowers her voice to something quiet and seductive for just you to hear, her hands now grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you along. “there you go, keep riding it. just like me in that video, right?” she croons, and your brows furrow — unable to stop the pornographic moan from leaving you.
embarrassed at the delighted reactions, you hide your face in sarah’s neck, hot and disorientated from the pleasure, hearing her amused chuckle close up. “its just us, nothing at all to be embarrassed about.” she shrugs against you. “can’t run from the dare, sweetie. jj, you wanna come up behind her and give her a hand?” she asks, and before you can lift your head — her hands have slid up your top, squeezing at your tits.
your hips aren’t left alone for long though, as jj straddles the long pillow right behind you and grips your hips, tugging them back and forth with a boyish roughness that had the fabric scraping against you in a new way. you whimper uncontrollably, feeling the blondes stiff crotch thumping against your backside each time he yanked you back.
“yeah-he-heahh, that’s the stuff. don’t tell me i never do anythin’ for ya babydoll. teachin’ you the valuable lesson of gettin’ off right now.” he drawls in your ear, his body heat making your back arch.
amidst this, john b carries the same cool and collected energy. he leans against the couch as he keeps his eyes on yours, taking another sip of his beer before reaching out and taking your hand in his to gently soothe over your knuckles when you announce in a panic that they were going to make you cum.
“thaaaats it,” he hums, voice bassy and delicious enough to make you hold onto every word, thighs clenching painfully. “riiiiide it out.”
something about his nonchalance made you believe it was perhaps his idea, and not sarah’s like you previously believed.
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