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soaps-mohawk · 9 months ago

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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.

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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 ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows, @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10, @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#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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champbot · 3 months ago

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B33 < finalllyyyy finished my beta troll headcaon lineup!! furst things furst, my ask box is open for Beta troll + kids drawing requests!! I need to purractice drawing the sillies

alsooo feel like mentioning, these hc’s are for the early half of the game - I am gonna draw their adult + post game looks because thoseee headcanons are different

like for example!! I hc aradia gaining a lot of weight after no longer inhabiting her robo bod! Eridan being able to express their gender identity in the dream bubbles!

Tbf the art is sort of old, and I already want to update my designs but whatevs

Hcs under the cut…. B33

Here’s my personal headcanons, don’t start shit, if you don’t like, you can make ur own post with ur own hcs BDD

Aradia Medigo - transfem aroace spec

~ Struggles with persistent depression but is recovering slowly

~ Puts on weight after the game

~ ASD

Tavros Nitram - transmasc polysexual

~ bulks up during the game!

~ Legs are prosthetics, he still uses their chair on rougher days

~ anxiety and ptsd, struggles with unhealthy attachments (clearly)

Sollux Captor - nonbinary pan

~ Also ASD + Bipolar

~ Acne scars!!

~ Lisp is from crooked teeth

Karkat Vantas - Nonbinary he/himmer, poly with masc pref

~ Super repressed about gender during the game, Jegbert helps with coming to terms with things

~ Anger issues as a response to traumatic living conditions on alternia

~ Adult him is very fat and hairy :)

Nepeta Leijon - transmasc trixic

~ Comes out during the game

~ ASD and ADHD, cannot mask well

~ Looks tiny and weak but could bench press you (cuz its funny)

Kanaya Maryam - femby lesbian (she wears binders :o

~ total vegan till she goes rainbowdrinker

~ binds regularly, prefers a flat silhouette

~ gender + sexuality relationship is unique due to pansexual being the societies default

Terezi Pyrope - Transfem queer

~ does not shave, ever under any circumstances

~ OCD, has a lotttt of rituals

~ transed her gender pre game due to flarping

Vriska Serket - Transfem lesbian

~ ASPD, doing treatment, symptoms lesson as she gets older

~ has severe scarring on her left side, when she is younger she hides scarring via makeup and long clothes cuz teenage insecurity she grows out of

~ same as terezi, flarping helped her come out, terezi and her are very close cuz of this similarity

Equius Zahhak - Agender asexual

~ hypersexual and sex repulsed

~ ASD, also bad at masking, hence why meowrails get along so well

~ has hyperhydrosis

Gamzee Makara - nonbinary ??????

~ bpd, he tends to split on people accidentally, Karkat is his fp :)

~ disassociates often, memory is poor and has slow processing because his thoughts always feel crowding

~ his abuse of sopor pies is a coping mechanism, helps with his sensory issues

Eridan Ampora - Genderfluid pan

~ definitely was a really obnoxious femboy at one point before coming out

~ a lot of their incel-ness comes from repressing their gender

~ ASD, really bad at reading other people

Feferi Peixes - demigirl pan

~ if kanaya is alternia goth, then Fef definitely is, big into counterculture

~ ASD, hyperempath, way too good at masking except for when she’s overtly excited

~ is a vegan, feels incredibly guilty for feeding her lusus

Anyways…. If you read all that congrats lollll

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spdrwdw · 1 year ago

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Pairing: 1042 Miguel X f!reader Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI) fluff, smut, food play (Is that a term?), Miguel has a weird kink ( it is still kinktober, after all), oral-m/f receiving, slight breeding kink, unprotected intercourse, no use of y/n Summary: Miguel seems to have a sweet tooth. Not only for the birthday cake you are making for Gabriella's birthday, but also for you. Word Count: 2018 A/N: Thank you to @phoenixflower468 who requested some earth 1042 Miguel content! I will continue working on my other requests. Thank you to those who submitted requests to help my writer's block! ALSO; if you'd like to be tagged for my future fics, please let me know! No translations at the end. I figured most of Miguel fic readers already know some of the Spanish pet names and phrases used by now, lmao Check out more of my work on my Masterlist

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Tomorrow was Gabriella’s birthday and you were scrambling getting the cake finished. It was already eleven at night and you were covered in flour and frosting. Or was it icing? You could never tell them apart. Anyway, you were decorating the cake when you heard footsteps coming down from the stairs.

You quickly paused what you were doing, trying to hear the footsteps. They were too heavy to be Gabriella’s. Miguel was coming downstairs to check on your progress.

“Miguel. Mi amor, I thought you were sleeping already,” You spoke softly as he made his way into the kitchen, taking a seat on the stool across from you.

“I miss you,” he pouted. God. He was too adorable. He was six foot nine of pure muscle and dad bod and yet he was the most adorable thing in the world. Besides Gabriella, of course.

“Lo siento, Miguel. I’m just trying to get this cake finished,” You apologized as you went back to work. Thankfully, those baking lessons you took back in college were finally paying off. The cake didn’t look half bad at all.

“Why are you making a cake rather than just buying one?” He asked as he took a bit of leftover frosting..or was it icing..and licked it from his finger. You couldn’t help but to bite your lip at the sight. The simplest things this man did made you go feral. It just wasn’t fair.

He noticed your expression and smirked. Oh, he was such a bastard!

“What?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

He simply contained the smirk on his face and grabbed more of the frosting onto his finger and opened his mouth, tongue sticking out slightly before slipping his finger in, letting out a moan.

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep your composure.

“I still need that, you know?”

Miguel chuckled and shrugged. “You know how I get around sweets, querida. I have such a sweet tooth.”

You simply gave him a look before grabbing your things and went back to decorating the cake.

“Yes well, that sweet tooth of yours is going to have to hold off until tomorrow, Miguel. I can’t have you messing this up,” you grumbled, trying to concentrate on your work. You were almost done.

As you tried to concentrate on drawing up some flowers, you could feel Miguel’s strong arms wrapping around your waist, his chin resting against your shoulder as he watched you work.

“You’re doing amazing,” he complimented, placing a kiss on your cheek. You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to get you distracted.

“Thank you, mi amor,” you hummed, trying to not let him get to you. At least, not until you were finished with Gabri’s cake.

Surprisingly, he was actually behaving, watching you in admiration as you finished up the cake for your daughter.

“Looks perfect,” he hummed as you nodded your head in approval, marveling at your work.

“It does, doesn’t it?” You smiled, glancing over at him before pecking his cheek.

“Mind putting it in the fridge while I clean up?”

Miguel nodded his head and did as he was told before an idea popped into his head and he glanced over at you.

“Take the frosting upstairs with you,” he said, causing you to raise a brow.

“What? Why?” You asked as you continued to clean the kitchen island.

“I want to try something,” he stated.

“Try what?” You pressed, curious as to why Miguel wanted to take the leftover frosting upstairs.

“Just..I’ll show you when we get up there. Come on, mi vida. It’s getting late.”

—-

“What on earth? Miguel!” You gasped as you now laid completely naked in bed, with your hands tied above your head. It was to prevent you from stopping Miguel and his shenanigans.

Miguel shushed you as he squirted some frosting out of the piping bag and onto the bottom of your navel, leading a trail all the way down to your pubic bone.

“I told you I had a sweet tooth, mi vida,” he chuckled before he began licking the frosting off of you.

Your body twitched a bit and you tried to fight back a moan. You had to keep quiet. You didn’t want Gabriella to wake up.

“And you thought this would be a good way to ease your sweet tooth?” You questioned as Miguel began to coat your breasts with the frosting before taking a breast into his mouth, licking and sucking off the sweetness, swirling his tongue around your nipple and tugging at it before doing the same with the other breast. You couldn’t conceal your moans any longer.

“M-Miguel..please..” you breathed.

“Hmm? Please what?” Miguel asked, a smirk on his lips.

“You’re making me all sticky,” you pouted.

“Don’t worry, I’ll wash it off of you later,” he continued to smirk before taking hold of your chin and ordered you to open your mouth. You did as he said, and he squeezed some frosting into your mouth, keeping it along your tongue before he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to catch the sweetness.

“Mmm, tastes so much better coming from the pretty mouth of yours,” he moaned, licking his lips.

“Alright well, don’t be greedy. Let me in on some of that, too,” you stated.

Miguel chuckled and freed your hands before he began to take off his own clothes. Geez, how did you get so lucky to have a man like him as your husband and father of your child?

Miguel then laid down on the bed as you straddled his waist and saw him open his mouth, tongue hanging out as he waited for you to squirt some frosting onto his tongue. You did just that, shaking your head before leaning down and kissed him hard, all teeth and tongue as you tasted the sweetness in his mouth.

In no time at all, you were both sticky and smelling sweet. The piping bag was now discarded somewhere on the bed, and you were now sitting on his face. Honestly, it was the best seat in the house, if you had anything to say about it.

Miguel was eating you out as if your pussy was the sweetest thing on earth. Tongue slobbering over your folds, teeth nipping at your clit, and long fingers curled into you, hitting you at just the right spot, making you see stars. You couldn’t help but to grind against his face. Miguel could take it, though. He was sturdy.

You tried to cover your mouth to muffle your moans, your other hand stroking his meaty cock. You could feel the veins twitching as your wedding band rubbed against them. Leaning over, you finally took him into your mouth, slowly, of course. You could feel his moan vibrating through you as he continued to eat your pussy, causing you to moan out around his cock in response. After taking in as much of Miguel’s cock as you could, you began bobbing your head, the tip hitting the back of your throat every time.

It wasn’t long until you felt him twitching in your mouth, and you doubled down on your efforts, pumping him with one hand, and gripping his balls with the other as you continued bobbing your head.

You felt his tongue assaulting your pussy, running through your bundle of nerves while his fingers curled up and rubbed against that spot that made you see stars.

In no time at all, you were orgasming into each other’s mouths, and you didn’t dare to waste a single drop of him.

Before you could even blink, Miguel picked you up and flipped you over, pinning you down onto the bed, lining himself between you and rammed his cock into your soaked pussy.

“Oh! Miguel!” You gasped as he pounded into you. The wet, sticky sounds of skin hitting against skin bounced off the walls, filled with the harmony of yours’ and Miguel’s moans.

“You feel so good, mi amor. So fucking good,” Miguel groaned through gritted teeth.

“Kinda makes me wanna put another baby in you. Think that’d be okay?” He grunted. The thought of filling you up and getting you pregnant with another baby made his cock twitch inside of you.

Eh, the conversation of having another child did come up every now and then, and..yeah, why not? Gabriella deserved a sibling.

“M-Miguel..” You breathed, your mind going fuzzy as you tilted your head back against the pillows.

“Qué pasa, amor?” He cooed once he leaned over and pecked you on the cheek, his pace still brutal. You were so close to your orgasm, you gritted your teeth.

“Can’t handle my cock? Hmm? Is my pretty wife gonna cum?” He continued to coo, pivoting his hips against you in a more snapping manner.

“Cum over my cock, mi amor.”

And you did. Because when he commands you to do something such as this, you do it, gladly.

“That’a girl,” Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting sloppy as he reached his limit and came, coating your walls with his seed, filling you up just how you loved it.

Once he was finished, Miguel slowly pulled out of you and laid on top of you, however, didn’t put all his weight on you cuz, the man is huge.

Miguel rested his head over your shoulder as you both caught your breath. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer before kissing his cheek. You just loved him so much. He was a great husband, and a wonderful father. The best person you could ever imagine having as your life partner.

“You alright?” He then asked, a cheeky smile on his face as he gently rubbed your back.

“I’m fine, Miguel,” You giggled softly before kissing him sweetly just as you heard something coming from the hallway. Your eyes suddenly went wide.

Gabriella.

The bedroom door opened as you both scrambled to get your naked bodies under the covers.

Gabriella slowly stepped in, rubbing her sleepy little eyes as she held her stuffed bunny in one hand.

“Mamá? Papá?” She muttered.

“¿Qué pasa, mija?” Miguel asked softly as Gabriella stepped further inside.

“I can’t sleep,” she said, looking up at the both of you.

“Oh, Gabri. Do you want to sleep here with us?” You asked her, and she quickly nodded her head.

“Okay, go grab your blankie and your pillow.”

She then smiled and nodded her head before walking out of the room, and you and Miguel both bolted to the dresser and closet to grab some clothes and a quick change of sheets.

As you fixed up the bed, Miguel as in the bathroom getting himself cleaned up, and then you stepped into the bathroom to do the same just as Gabriella came back in, holding her bunny, blankie and pillow. She climbed onto the clean bed just as you both made your way back out of the bathroom. Miguel closed the door and turned off the lights and joined you two, wrapping his arms around Gabriella.

“Feel better, mija?” You asked with a smile and Gabriella nodded her head, grinning.

“Yeah! I kept hearing these weird sounds and I couldn’t sleep,” she said, causing you and Miguel to look at each other with slight embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Gabri. Hopefully you won’t hear them again,” you told her, gently stroking her hair as she snuggled up against you. You noticed Miguel pouting over at you, to which you rolled your eyes and smirked at him.

“Let’s get some sleep. It’s your big day tomorrow,” you reminded her, kissing her cheeks as she giggled, nodding her head.

“Good night, ladies,” Miguel said, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you and Gabriella closer to him, having your daughter sandwiched in the middle; which she loved.

“Night night, papà,” Gabriella giggled.

“Goodnight, Miguel,” you smiled over at him and leaned over to give him a goodnight kiss, still being able to taste the frosting on his lips.

Perhaps you had a bit of a sweet tooth as well.

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Tags: @migueloharastruelove, @camzzn

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 2 years ago

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It’s Been a Long, Long Time ❥

Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re the school nurse at Sarah’s middle school and you’re volunteered to chaperone the school dance alongside her father, Joel Miller. After some other teachers upset you there, he makes a point of showing you how he feels while also teaching those assholes a lesson.

A/N: okay so i know i just wrote one but you guys were so sweet in the notes :) *sobbing* and im obsessed with him so another Joel Miller fic for you, this one’s more fluffy tho here’s a sweet, smutty one, inspired by that one scene in “The Lost Husband” YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT, enjoy and feedback as always is appreciated >~< i cant stop writing him PREPARED TO BE SICK O’ ME

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, cheesy, just absolute fuckin fluff, mentions of death, months pre-outbreak, language, reader is insulted, slight angst, mentions of alcohol, slight age gap, reader has panic attack, public making out, jealous!reader, Joel loves his pet names, he talks you through it, oral f! receiving, p in v, praise, unprotected sex, y’all it’s a lot

You sip on your mug full of sugary coffee and rub your temple, tired from a night of little sleep. That’s when Sarah Miller, your favorite student, patient, and professional instigator, strides through your office doors with a big smile on her face.

You open up your snack drawer with an affectionate roll of your eyes, grab a pack of skittles, and throw it her way.

She catches it mid-air and sits down on the bed by your door, kicking her feet while she pops only the red ones into her mouth.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days, hun,” you breathe a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” she sighs, still grinning. “I’m on my lunch break and I finished it fast so I could come see you.”

You smile softly behind the rim of your mug, “Well, I’m glad to see you. What is it that you’re smiling so much about?”

“Awe,” she points to your mug. “You’re using the mug I got you.”

You look at the front of the mug, the words, “World’s Greatest Grandma”, on the front of if it with the word Grandma scratched out with a wash-proof marker and replaced with “Nurse”. She claimed she couldn’t find one that said what she wanted so she had to get creative. It makes you laugh every time you pick it up.

“It’s my most prized possession,” you nod, matching her expression. “Now answer my question.”

She leans forward, having finished off all the red skittles, and hands it back to you so you can eat the rest.

She says it in one, hyperactive breath, “I got my dad to volunteer at the school dance!”

You choke a bit on your coffee.

Setting down the bag of skittles and your mug, you look up at her and chuckling, “Why would you want to do that? Don’t most kids want their parents far away from their homecoming?”

She shakes her head like you’re not getting what she’s saying, exasperated, “I invited him for you, Nurse y/n.”

“I- Why would you-” you let out a nervous laugh before pulling yourself together. “Sarah. Why would you invite him for me, sweetheart?”

“Because you like him,” she props her head up against the wall behind her, a sly little smirk on her lips. She crosses her legs. “Obviously.”

You sip your coffee, a small scoff leaving you, “I don’t have a crush on your father, Ms. Miller. Since when do you play matchmaker, huh?”

“Since he asks about you like all the time,” she groans. “I told him that you’re coming and he basically dropped everything to come.”

Heat blooms in your face but you clear your throat and feign nonchalance despite it. It would be incredibly unprofessional for you to have a juvenile, little crush on a student’s father. Even if he is incredibly handsome, sweet, charming, funny, and a wonderful, single father to his little girl who you also have a soft spot for.

But you do and you’re convinced it’s a bit bigger than a little one. You don’t act on it though because you’ve kidded yourself into thinking it would go away, wither from neglect like a dying plant with no sun. However, that hasn’t worked out very well so far.

Sarah doesn’t miss the flush in cheeks and the small smile you dawn before maintaining your composure once again. She decides to hold onto this information instead of call you out because she’s nothing if not devious. She’s very observant for a 14 year old, you’re sure she gets it from her sharp father.

He doesn’t let anything get past him, like hair in your face that he pushes away for you, a fallen eyelash on your cheek, your shoelace undone, your ponytail getting loose and about to fall out, and whatever else. It’s been almost an entire school year of this, going on field trips, meetings, him picking Sarah up from school when she’s sick (whether she fakes it or not), and around your shared neighborhood because even if it was big in Austin, Texas, he made it feel so damn small.

And now Sarah says this and you can’t contain your excitement. But also your nerves were shot, you haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. It scares the hell out of you.

“I’m not volunteering,” you laugh. “Why’d you lie to him?”

“Because I’m going to convince you to come,” she raises her eyebrows. “Please, please, please, please!” she clasps her hands together. “I’ll buy you all the skittles you want, I’ll take the red ones out of all of them for you, too!”

“What if I’m busy?”

“I know you’re not.”

You gasp, “Rude, Sarah! I should write you up for that,” you tease.

She smiles, “Come on, you can come and wear a pretty dress, drink punch, and eat free food. What’s not to like?”

“The bitchy moms and other teachers, for one thing-” you put a hand over your mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I shouldn’t have said that,” you chuckle, embarrassed, with your face in your hands.

She waves you off, “My father cusses like a sailor and I won’t tell. I don’t like anyone that works here besides you, anyway.”

“Well, now I feel like I have to,” you relent with a sigh, mulling it over. She was right in that you didn’t have anything to do, so what was the risk here?

She looks at you expectantly, mustering up puppy dog eyes to persuade you.

“If I go... no teasing me and your dad. He and I are just good friends,” you say, which is at least half true. “We enjoy each other’s company, nothing more.”

“Uh-huh,” she says in a sing-song, knowing voice, fingers crossed behind her back. “Sure, Nurse y/n. I promise.”

“I’m serious,” you point at her, taking the last sip of your coffee just as the class bell rings. “Now get out of here and go to math.”

She groans in protest but hops down from the table anyway and fakes being dizzy, “What if I have a fever?” She coughs.

“Then walk it off,” you chuckle, knowing she’s lying. “See you tonight, Sarah.”

She grins widely, waving, running out, “Bye! Dad and Nurse Y/n sitting in a tree-”

“Sarah!”

~~~

Walking into the schools’ gymnasium, you’re almost shaking with nerves when you walk in. You feel like a teenager again, anxious and waiting for someone to ask you to dance.

You slipped on a black slip dress with white trim at the ends and the sweetheart neckline, it hugs your body nicely and accentuates curves, dips, and makes your skin glow with a red sweater that hits at your waist and matches your red, strappy heels. Your hair is pulled back with barrettes to show off your makeup and fresh curls.

The dance has already started thirty minutes ago, so everyone’s already dancing and having fun to the child-friendly music that the DJ spins for the room. You pick up a red solo cup filled with crappy fruit punch and spot Sarah in the crowd with a few of her friends.

She waves enthusiastically in your direction before running over to you and hugging your side. “You look so pretty, Nurse Y/n!”

“Thank you, sweetheart. So do you!” you hug her back, trying the punch and wincing at the off-taste. “Tonight, you can just call me Y/n, if you want.”

She smiles, glowing at your arrival, “My dad’s over there talking to another parent. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

You look up when she says this and meet his eyes from across the room, which means he was already looking. Joel Miller cracks a lopsided smile at you, excuses himself from his conversation with a pestering mom, and crosses the room to the two of you.

He’s wearing a red flannel shirt, rolled up on his burly forearms, tucked into a pair of dark jeans with a black belt holding the pants up. His hair is slightly wet from a shower, you presume, and he smells of aftershave and smoke and cedar wood. He looks so good, standing in front of you with those all-encompassing brown eyes, you think you might cry.

Those said eyes fall over you, and admire your dress, your hair, your everything. He looks down at his daughter, watching you both with avid attention.

“Don’t you have friends to get back to, chick?” he cocks an eyebrow down at his scheming daughter.

She rolls her eyes, smoothing out her blue dress. Her hair is braided into a bun at the back of her head, matching teal flowers pinned in her curls. “Okay, dad. Have fun!”

She races back to her group of friends and leaves you and Joel alone, two awkward adults who feel like kids again.

“You did her hair tonight?” you smile softly, gushing a bit now. “It looks so nice.”

He flushes and scratches the back of his neck, “Thank you. I tried my best, she did most of it. I just wanted tonight to be perfect for her. She forced me to come, though.”

“She got me, too,” you tilt your head, biting back a grin. “She should be a lawyer when she grows up, this kid.”

He looks out at her dancing with her friends and smiles fondly, “She would be great.” His eyes fall back down to you, “You look beautiful... by the way.”

You beam, “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, too, Joel.”

A blush spreads across his nose and cheeks, “Thanks. I was worried it was too simple and that I should have worn a suit... I didn’t know if it was nice enough to-”

You place your hand on his arm to stop his rambling, “You look great. Seriously. Don’t worry, all the moms and teachers will still drool over you.”

He pinches his brow when he stares down at you. You get the sudden urge to smooth out the small wrinkle between his eyebrows, ease his tensions.

“Really?” he pins you down with his stare, but his dark eyes are glittering with amusement. “You’re way off base, sweetheart, I promise you. None of them think of me like that.”

You ignore the heat blooming in your chest at the nickname, he used it often but it never failed to make your brain short-circuit, “They all talk about you.”

He raises his eyebrows, “You’re joking.”

Jealousy swirls in your belly at the thought of these women and the things you’ve heard around school, but you pull it together with a quick tilt of your head, “I’m not laughing, am I?”

He notices your jaw clench a bit and how you gulped before speaking, logging the observations for later, “How do you notice?”

“How do you not!” you say, moving to his side and unintentionally brushing your arm against his. He shivers. “It’s obvious. It’s hard not to.”

His eyes linger on your lips before glancing back up your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been distracted.”

You grow flustered under his gaze and look ahead, stammering, “Yeah... maybe. And well... Sarah tells me that they ask her about your life in the pickup line after school. So it’s proving to be borderline obsession,” you laugh.

He smiles softly, seeing past your nerves, “Poor Sarah. She must love that,” he says dryly.

“Sarah might say some choice words about them,” you shrug your shoulders. “She’s fine, though. I probably shouldn’t have told you, we tend to share secrets,” you look at him, filled with care for his daughter, for him.

“She adores you,” he says sincerely and you can tell by the warmth in his tone that he means it and appreciates it. “You’ve quickly become one of her favorite people within a little over half a school year. Tommy thinks you’re great too, from the few interactions you’ve had when he picks her up sometimes.”

You grin and his chest seizes at the light that exudes from your sweet expression, “Tommy’s a wonderful uncle. Good brother too. He talks about you often.”

“Oh yeah?” he looks at you, his voice sends shivers straight through you. “And what does he say?”

“Can’t betray a friend’s trust,” you shake your head, teasing.

He discreetly shows you his flask of whiskey, “Not even if I let you drink from my emergency flask?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one thing,” you hold up a finger and he slips you the flask, cracking a dazzling smile, while you turn around and take a long sip. The DJ transitions the E.D.M to a slow song, something sweet and best to sway to.

He takes a long sip himself and tucks it away in his pocket again, holding out his hand to you, “Do you want to tell me while we dance, darlin?”

You look around the room, your boss nowhere in sight. There was technically no rule against dating a student’s parent, but you didn’t want the judgement. You knew the people around here talked and there would be rumors, shaming. But he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room, putting himself out on a limb just to ask you to dance.

It didn’t have to mean anything anyway, it could just be two friends sharing a dance. You’ve danced with friends. It’s the same thing. Your internal monologue was racing a mile a minute.

“Are we allowed to? I mean, as chaperones.”

“We’re watching the students more closely.”

“Yeah, I just...” you pause, pinching your brow.

His face falls slightly. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he starts to pull his hand away. “It’s really no-”

You put your hand in his, “I’d love to dance with you, Joel.”

Warmth blooms in his handsome face and he pulls you into the crowd of dancing people. Joel pulls you gently towards him, placing his hands on your waist as you wrap your arms up and around his neck. You both try to keep your distance, make a good example for the kids, but it’s growing increasingly harder for him not to hold you close and kiss you right here in front of all these people.

You catch Sarah giggling excitedly at you both dancing, whispering with her friends. You roll your eyes with a small smile.

You look up at Joel, resisting the urge to lay your head against his chest, “You still want to know something Tommy said?”

“Desperately,” he laughs.

“He told me you said I’m pretty.”

Rosy color spreads across his nose, but his eyes are darkened, his lips part slightly, “I should’ve known he’d tell you.”

“So he’s telling the truth?”

His eyes soften, “Of course he is.”

“Well... thank you,” you flush, blood rushing to your face, making Joel smile. You feel like a schoolgirl again.

He chuckles, eyes searching your face, “You’re welcome.”

You tilt your head, “You’re pretty, too, Joel.”

He spins you as the song picks up a bit and pulls you back to him, your dress spinning as you do. He pulls you back against his chest, hands in against shirt and his around your waist. Warmth radiates from his broad chest, his hands are calloused even through the fabric of your slip dress, and your breath catches in your throat.

He doesn’t pay any mind to the stares he gets for doing it, but he lets his head drop to your shoulder, writing love letters in your skin when he lets out a breath. He says nothing about the compliment but he’s holding you closer, and that’s all he needs to do. A quiet understanding washes over the two of you in that moment.

Joel’s always been the strong and silent type, but the longer the two of you have known one another, the closer you get, he’s begun to let more things slip. He begins to ramble, his nerves making an appearance when he’s near you, a teenager again. Then there are times like now when his actions do all the talking for him and neither of you need to comment on it.

Then there are others when he won’t shut the fuck up.

“People are looking,” you whisper.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“...No.”

“Then why do you care what they think?”

There’s a beat of silence before you sigh out the three words, “I don’t know.”

“We’re not Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey over here, the kids will be fine,” he teases. Then he lifts his head to bring your joined hands up to his side, moving you to the changed song with the more upbeat tempo.

You snort, “Wouldn’t that be something.”

“If we were somewhere else...” he muses, looking at you to gauge your reaction.

You meet his eyes, your own crinkling with amusement, “You’d do the lift?”

He throws his head back with a thunderous laugh, “I’d try for you.”

“Think I’m too heavy?”

“God, no,” he spins the two of you, dodging a pair of kids dancing. “I’m just old.”

“You’re like 35, Joel.”

“You’re only 27, you don’t get it yet,” he whispers into the side of your hair and you laugh, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the judgmental moms and teachers.

Joel Miller had a talent of making you feel like the only person in the room.

The song ends and you feel out of breath just from being this close to him. You step away from him and smile softly, “I gotta run to the restroom. I’ll be back.”

His eyes sweep over you, then he nods, “Okay.”

“What?” you grin. “No dad joke about not falling in?”

“I’m classy Joel tonight,” he chuckles. “No bathroom jokes.”

You shake your head with a laugh as you walk back towards the restrooms. Stepping inside, you move to stand in front of the mirror and grab your lipstick from your bag, fixing up your makeup. You try to calm your nerves, hands shaking when you bring the golden tube to your lips.

After taking a deep breath, your mind begins to wander about how his hands felt on your skin and how he thinks you’re pretty. The thoughts fill your head and litter your skin with goosebumps.

You don’t usually like being the center of attention, but with Joel around you, it was hard not to be. And you couldn’t say you minded it.

A few other women walk through the door and you recognize them to be Bethany, Sarah’s rude math teacher, Cara, a mom who gives you trouble constantly, and Kristina, another mom who thinks Joel is hot and constantly asks Sarah questions about him.

“Hey, y/n!” Bethany draws out in a sing-song, forced way that sends a chill through your body. “Saw you out dancing with Mr. Miller. Ain’t y’all cute?”

You look at her blankly in your reflection and she clears her throat.

“Adorable,” Cara’s shark eyes roam you over in the mirror, making you feel small as you fix your foundation. You don’t let it show though, you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.

“Such a shame about Joel’s wife,” Kristina hums, putting on her own bright pink lipstick. “Wonder if he’s still looking for a stepmom for sweet little Sarah.”

The three of them laugh together and you feel your blood pressure quickly rise. Three wild vultures circling a carcass, kicking it while it’s down.

“Can we not tonight, ladies?” you turn around to look at them. “Let’s just forget this and have fun.”

“What do you mean, dear? This is fun,” Bethany blinks her stark, blue eyes, red lips curling. “This must be a lot for her though, girls. She’s probably having a rough time considering what happened to her.”

You freeze.

“Oh yeah...” Cara finishes her makeup and frowns at you. “I remember hearing your fiancee passed away before you came here, how sad.”

Your blood runs cold, sirens going off in your head, and a pounding begins in your skull. No one’s brought up Rick since you’ve gotten here, you’ve dodged the questions from the nosy parents, the gossiping neighbors, and the rude coworkers. You don’t know how they figured it out, and now you feel it, being back in the car with Rick the night that it happened.

Joel and Sarah didn’t even know, you had pushed it to the back of your mind so you would never find it again. Now it’s coming back like a wave, full force, and pulling you under the current until you’re drowning.

“Then you moved here to Austin in July,” Kristina slits her eyes at you and cocks her head to the side. “Now you’re trying to get back out there with Joel, huh? Like you’d really have a chance with him.”

She looks in your direction and it’s as if she sees right through you, past your carefully created facade and into your core, that sad, broken girl with no family left and nowhere to go.

Your eyes fill with hot tears, you want to run away, but you can’t move. You’re frozen, feet glued to the linoleum tile.

“I knew Rick... your fiancee,” Bethany says. “He was so sweet. We went to college together.”

“So sweet,” Cara looks at you and flashes another sickly sweet smile.

You inhale sharply, tears falling down your face. You hastily wipe it away, “I... I gotta go.”

You grab your purse off the counter and rush out of the door, slamming into a hard chest and a pair of hands that fly to catch you by the waist.

Joel stares down at you, grounding you, and your eyes begin to brim with tears, “What’s wrong, sugar? What happened?”

The words tumble out of you, wiping away the tears that slip out while you ramble on, “Nothing, I just... the women in there, they’re horrible, they hate me, and they make me feel like shit. They brought up Rick and they think you’re hot and they think we’re dating and I just wanna go. I’m just gonna go home-”

He looks over your head at three women leaving the bathroom, waving in his direction.

Joel looks back down at you before tucking his fingers into the straps of your dress and pulling you into a searing kiss. Your inhale sharply when his soft lips meet yours, and your hands grip onto his flannel shirt, sighing into his mouth. He slips his hands up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you more completely, unraveling you in his capable hands.

Bethany stares at you wide eyed, getting the other girls attention, all jaws dropped in utter shock at the image before them.

His tongue dances with yours as he moves his lips expertly, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheekbone as he coaxes your lips open. He hums small praises while tracing shapes into your skin. You let a small noise slip past you, unable to contain how good he’s making you feel, swallowing your sadness and helping you breathe again.

He groans as he forces himself to pull away from you, struggling not to kiss you again. Forgetting you’re not alone.

Joel’s hands slip down to rest on your shoulders, lips flushed and swollen from the kiss, voice gravelly, “I hate terrible people.”

You look at him, mouth parted, lipstick probably smudged. He licks his lips before glaring at back at the women before they scoff and walk away, muttering under their breath.

Neither of you get the time to speak of it before Sarah is running down the hallway, after hearing the commotion. You and Joel split apart when she comes up, and she’s smiling widely.

“Kelsey asked if I could sleepover, can I go get my stuff at the house and go to her place? Pretty please,” she begs her dad, clasping her hands together.

He tears his eyes away from you and nods, smiling, “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll head home and I’ll walk you there.”

Sarah grins happily before looking up at you. “Everything okay, y/n?”

You force a smile and fix a flower falling out of her hair, “Yeah, I’m good. And I think I’m ready to go, too.”

“Do you need a ride?” Joel asks. “I know you walked here cause we all live so close, but I don’t want you walkin’ home in the dark. Also Sarah’s got control of the radio on the way back,” he offers you a grin. “She’s got good taste.”

“We’re listening to 80′s hits,” Sarah nods, taking her job very seriously.

You nod, feeling better just by being near the two of them. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

~~~

“Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears is blaring through Joel’s truck and you’re humming under your breath while Sarah is screaming it in the backseat. Joel laughs at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

Grieving your boyfriend’s death has been something you’ve pushed aside for a long time. You knew these women could be catty, but you never thought they’d be downright cruel to you, bringing up Rick the way they did. Looking out the window, you think back to the moment you felt frozen in that bathroom, unable to speak or move. You feel embarrassed for not standing up for yourself, blaming yourself instead of them and their hateful words.

Joel notices your faraway expression and rests his hand on your thigh in a way so Sarah can’t see. He rubs his thumb over your bare skin and it both calms and excites you, heat rushing to the apex of your legs.

You let out a small sigh and lean back into the chair, resting your hand on top of his. He has to rip his eyes off of you, willing himself to ignore your pleased exhales if he was going to drive properly.

He pulls the car into the driveway one-handed and comes to a stop, turning around to talk to Sarah, “Go grab your stuff, chick, and we’ll go to Kelsey’s.”

She nods and hops out, running towards the house.

Joel turns to you, hand still on your leg, clearly nervous, “Do you want... do you want to come inside? I have wine and some clothes you can put on, if you want something more comfortable.”

You search his set features for confirmation, “You sure? I can just walk next door to my house, I don’t wanna put you out-”

“Y/n...” he stops you. “You should know by now that if I say something I mean it, I promise you.”

You didn’t know if it was a good idea being with him alone like this, but you honestly didn’t want to be by yourself right now.

You relent with a nod, “Alright. You had your chance to change your mind,” you flash a sneaky smile.

The two of you step out of the car and head into his house. Sarah’s already tumbling down the stairs, changed into pajamas with a packed bag slung over her shoulder, “Ready to go when you are.”

“Damn, you got ready fast, kid,” he laughs despite himself. “Let’s go.”

Sarah runs up and hugs your side, “Bye, y/n!”

“Have fun with Kelsey, be safe, okay?” you squeeze her shoulder.

Joel whispers to you as they walk to the door, “There’s shirts upstairs and some shorts you can borrow. Make yourself at home, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile softly.

They head out and leave you alone in the dimly lit house. You exhale slowly and head up the stairs to go to his room. You look around at the messy bedroom, one king size bed with blue covers, and minimal decorations. It felt like him, smelled like him, cedar and oak and smoke. You open one of his drawers to grab one of his big tee shirts from work, and a pair of baggy gym shorts.

You slip out of your dress, let down your hair, and set your red shawl down on top of it. You tug on the big tee shirt and pull on the gym shorts. As much as you had liked that dress, you feel like you can finally breathe now, much more comfortable in your sleepwear now. The clothes smelled of him, too, and it filled your chest with heat, a red glow pouring out of you.

You’re in Joel Millers room... wearing his clothes.

You can’t help but look around at the photos of Sarah and him in framed photos, some hung on the wall and others propped up on his drawers. There’s one photo that catches your eye in particular, though, the side of it folded in and tucked into the frame. It’s Joel smiling down at Sarah, just a baby in his arms, and there’s a part of the photograph hidden. But you spot a glimpse of a yellow dress in the corner, the rest of it hidden away.

You wonder if it’s Sarah’s mom. You don’t know much about her, just that Sarah says she never got to know her, and hardly remembers anything about her. It broke your heart hearing that, wishing she could have, but also selfishly wanting to be that person for her.

“Found what you needed?”

You jump at Joel’s sudden presence in the room and turn around to him. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I-”

He smirks and it feels like a lit match to your insides, “I know, darlin. Nothing to be sorry about.”

His eyes trail over you in his clothes, your arms folded under your chest, “You look good in my clothes, sweetheart. Better than I do, that’s for sure.”

You smile, “Thank you. And thanks for letting me borrow them. I feel better.”

He pinches his brow together, “Do you want to talk to me more about what happened? We don’t have to, but just know I’m here.”

You take a step towards him, “I know, I just haven’t talked about him in a long time.”

“Him?” his eyebrows raise.

You laugh at his shock, moving past him so he follows you downstairs, “Down, boy. I’m single, wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I wasn’t.”

He blushes. “Well, then, what about him?” he trails behind you to his kitchen. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

You love his Texan drawl and voice a bit too much, how deep and molasses like it was, how it coated you in sweetness and didn’t let up. Maybe it was because you weren’t from here and you weren’t used to it. But his was different and it affected you all the same.

“I might tell you,” you hop up on the countertop. “Over a glass of wine.”

Joel cracks a smile, happily obliging your request with one of his wine bottles, “I can do that.”

He pours you a glass of red and hands it to you, “So... who’s Rick?” He sips his own.

“My um... my ex fiancee,” you say, taking a long sip of your wine. “It feels weird calling him that...” you let out a dark laugh. “-since the two of us never ended it ourselves, it sounds wrong. But he uh-” your voice gets thick. “He died the beginning of last year.”

His face falls, genuinely on your behalf, wanting to wrap you in his arms, but also wanting to let you continue, “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

You’ve heard that more times than you can count from friends, family, and strangers alike, but from him, it’s one of the most sincere you’ve ever heard. You actually believe he truly cares and you wonder why you didn’t tell him sooner, maybe worried you’d scare him off. You wanted a fresh start in a place where no one knew Rick, where no one knew what happened.

“Thank you,” you sniff, mustering up a small, grateful smile before you continue. “It was New Year’s Eve. I didn’t know he had been drinking... he really seemed fine,” you recount like it was just yesterday that it happened.

“He didn’t see the ice on the roads,” you take another long sip, hands shaking again. You clear your throat, “I tried to help him, I thought we would be fine. But there was a bridge... and we went off. He got me out,” you blink the tears away, breathing out the words as if expelling them from your person. Like you wouldn’t have to hold onto them anymore. “He didn’t.”

“I’m alive because of him,” you inhale sharply, finally looking at Joel. “And he’s dead because I didn’t notice...”

He frowns, “It is absolutely not your fault, y/n. It’s a horrible thing that happened and it is not because of you.”

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and it breaks Joel’s heart a bit more and more, “I haven’t thought about it in so long. And they brought him up in the bathroom. I don’t know how they found out, I haven’t told a soul here.”

Protectiveness slips into his deep tone of voice as he steps towards you, it sends a shock through you, “What did they say about him?”

You shake your head, letting out a laugh, “It’s not important.”

“It is absolutely fucking important,” his eyes darken when he speaks to you, you’d never seen him so worked up before. “I’ll go to the damn superintendent if I have to, they’re grown ass adults. They shouldn’t use the death of your fiancee against you.”

You can’t help but let a smile slip through, “It’s cute how mad you are about this.”

He scoffs, mirroring your amused expression, “Believe me, I’ve dealt with the wolves before. They ask you inappropriate questions and dig into your personal life, pushing your boundaries like it’s nothing. No one can have any secrets around here.”

“Yeah,” you sniff. “I noticed that.”

There’s a beat of silence before he sighs and says quietly between the two of you, “When they found out about Sarah’s mom leaving her when she was a baby, they brought it up to her at a school picnic. Made her feel small. She ran home, crying her eyes out. I’d never seen her so upset. I was scared what I would do. It broke me.”

You nod in understanding, “That’s awful, Joel. I’m sorry. For you and for Sarah.”

“The next time they brought it up, Sarah asked Bethany why she’d been divorced six times. You should have seen the look on her face,” he laughs and you join him, throwing your head back at the mental image of Bethany’s pinched, angry face.

“Oh my god, I love Sarah so much,” you let your head fall into your hands, still laughing loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen.

“I was very proud,” he grinned.

“I’d hope so,” you tilt your head slightly. “She gets it from you. I wonder how she got that information about Bethany.”

“Beats me,” he smirks and you narrow your eyes affectionately in his direction. “Smart kid, that one.”

The two of you let the moment sink in for a bit in the silence. Joel’s standing between your legs now, hands on either side of your thigh, steadying himself. He searches your face like he did at the start of the evening, fingers itching to touch you again.

“Should we...” you finally say, pulling you both back into reality. “Should we talk about the kiss back there?”

“What’s there to talk about about?”

You frown, filling with a sense of dread that you’ve misread this entire night, “What do you mean?”

He jumps to fix what he said, hands falling to splay out on your thighs, “No, baby, wait not like that-” he sighs. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m out of practice with this, sweetheart-”

You press a kiss to his lips, causing him to abruptly cease his rambling. You tilt your head and pull away from hm after just a couple seconds. He leans against you even after you’re away from him, lips trying to follow you.

“I just meant...” you whisper with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes. “Like what does this mean? Because I haven’t done something like this since Rick and I’m trying not to feel guilty...”

“Guilty bout what?”

“For moving on.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for that,” he shakes his head, lowering his voice. “I understand if you’re not ready though. It took me awhile, to open again, I still haven’t completely... But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. And I know I’ve never met Rick, but I believe he’d want you to be happy. With whoever, even if it’s not me.”

Your heart cracks open at the sweetness of his words, splitting you in two right in front of him. You know you shouldn’t feel bad, even if you’ve moved on from loving Rick, a part of you will always mourn and have a place in your heart for him. You needed to realize there was more than enough room to let other people in too.

Your eyes soften, “You’re more out of practice than I thought if you think I’ve moved on with anyone else but you, Joel Miller.”

His eyes darken with something like raw desire and complete adoration, something like love that you haven’t seen in a long, long time. You don’t know if he’s been looking at you like this all along and if you’ve just now begun to notice.

Joel leans down to whisper to you, hand on your neck, thumb tucked under chin and other fingers on the side of your throat, squeezing just so. You dreamed of this, thought if he would be rough or sweet, when he was really a stunning, swirling mix of both.

“You were so jealous earlier,” his voice is wrecked in your ear, low and gravelly. “I thought I was just imagining it at first, but talking about those moms that think of me, you got so red. It was so sexy, sweetheart.”

You gasp a little, wanting to deny it, tease him. But who were you both kidding? You were jealous, and now there’s a warm satisfaction in the center of your chest at the fact they were wrong. Singing insults, saying he wouldn’t want you. Now you’re in his kitchen in the middle of the night wearing his shirt and he’s in between your legs, pressing against you.

“They said I didn’t have a chance with you,” you tangle you hands in his shirt, tugging him closer.

He shakes his head, eyes never leaving you, “I’m only yours, baby. Always have been.”

You all but pounce on him in that moment, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. He laughs just before you softly press your lips against his, the rumbling, beautiful sound vibrating against you. You’re tugging at each other almost immediately, his hands pulling and sliding up and down your waist while your arms wrap around his head. You fingers slide through his brunette curls, pleasantly humming at the satisfaction of knowing his hair is just as soft as you imagined, how even his rough hands feel gentle, and how his lips move with yours, slowly, languidly, painfully.

“You’re beautiful...” he kisses the words into your neck, repeating it over and over. “My beautiful, beautiful, girl.”

“Joel...” you sigh out and tilt your head back.

“Puts your arms around my neck, baby,” he whispers, arms pulling your legs up so they wrap around his torso. “What I want to do to you won’t work exactly on my kitchen counter.”

You quickly oblige him and he carries you up his stairs, your hands and lips never leaving each others. He stumbles while holding you, making you giggle into his shoulder, shrieking when he almost drops you.

“Was this the kind of lifting you had in mind with me tonight?” you smile softly into his skin.

He kicks open his bedroom door, “I’ve always had this in my mind, sweetheart.”

You both drop onto the bed, wanting to take this slow but also get to what you’ve both been wanting as soon as possible. He’s atop you, hands on either side of your head while you kiss like college students, handsy and messy and surprisingly amazing. How fast you two fit together, how good it feels. He grinds his lower half into yours. You moan into his mouth, earning one from him, both enjoying and exploring the other.

“I wanna taste you, sugar,” he lifts your chin up with his fingers, kissing down your chin then your neck then your collarbone and chest.

You wordlessly slip off your, his, shirt revealing that you have nothing on beneath it. He inhales sharply, taken aback by you. Your fingers scramble for the buttons of his flannel and you honestly think you break a few, moving so quickly.

“Impatient, are we?”

You look up at him through your lashes, “Just know what I want.”

Joel shrugs off his shirt, undoes his belt, and pulls off his jeans. You barely have time to admire his toned body, broad shoulders before he descends. He tugs off your, his, shorts, tosses them, and kisses everywhere his fingers leave, wet, open mouthed whispers against hot skin that make moisture pool between your thighs. His lips trail from your belly to your inner thighs and back up again.

“Nothing underneath?” he kisses the soft flesh, noting the slick at the apex of your legs. “This all for me, darlin?”

You nod when he licks a stripe up your cunt, “Only you, Joel.”

He buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved, rutting against the bed like he’s enjoying it as much as you are. You all but scream at the way he’s unraveling you with his tongue, circling your clit, accompanying his skilled mouth with his equally capable fingers, bigger than yours

When you tug at the ends of his hair, he groans into you, the noises fueling the coil in your gut, begging it to splinter and snap. He sucks hard and you let out a loud moan at the feeling. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. Joel’s tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks.

Your orgasm washes over you, the pressure relieving through every nerve and vessel, his name a prayer leaving you over and over. Wishing for him to come fix you again.

You pull him up to you and bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places while you taste yourself in his kiss.

“Can I...?” you ask him, hands slipping down to palm him through his boxers.

He groans, head falling into the crook that meets between your neck and shoulder, “As much as I would enjoy that, baby... we’re gonna need to do that later. Need to be inside you.”

You look at him for a moment, just breathing him in as cheesy as it sounds. It’s only hit you now how much you’ve been longing for this.

“You have all of me,” you tell him, moonlight sculpting his handsome features.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, y/n...” your name is blanketed by his voice, delivered to you in the way Zeus gives the world lightning. Simple bursts of electricity that can tear the earth.

You hold his stubbled jaw in your hands, rubbing his cheek with your thumbs. He doesn’t remember a time anyone has ever looked at him like you do, gently, adoringly, openly.

Joel puts his lips near your ear, kissing your temple, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”

You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder.

Your hair is in messy tendrils in every which way and you’ve never been more breathtaking to him. The color of your eyes brighter, skin flushed with warmth, and lips puffy. His eyes scan over your face, committing your soft and sharp features alike to memory. Lust blown and glowing with dewy sweat.

“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he holds your jaw in his hand, kissing you again.

He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises in your ear, littering kisses across your jaw. “Wanted you for so long...” he find your lips again with his own.

You mewl into his lips, licking his tongue as he pushes inside you again and again and again.

This past year of stolen glances and touches seem so pointless when it could have been this, this beautiful mess of limbs and lips and tongue. You never knew euphoria until this moment.

Joel’s hips begin to stutter and you’re both already close to release. You lick up his throat and kiss a constellation across his jaw, feeling him gulp under your touch.

“Keep kissing me like that, sugar, and I’m done for.”

You can’t help yourself, overwhelmed with feeling as the two of you reach your climax together. Blissful and stupid. His lips wander down your neck and nipping that sweet spot, as you arch into him.

As you both lay there, chests heaving slips parted, he smiles down at you.

You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, continuing on in euphoric waves, leaving you aching and wanting more. He kisses you through it and it aches, all of the love you have pouring into him and him into you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal joel miller #fanfiction #smut #bella ramsey #ellie the last of us #ellie

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carmenberzattosgf · 8 months ago

Text

the long awaited spanking fic

Content warnings: dom/sub dynamics, heavy spanking

I cannot get the brain rot for this out of my head. I was going to write a full fic for it first that includeded subspace but imma just do a spanking blurb for now to free myself from the thoughts… so basically stay tuned for this to be expanded

You did the thing that pisses off Carmy the most. You talked back to him during service in front of everyone. It was over something stupid, really, but your stubbornness got the best of you. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. The look on Carmen’s face was enough to shut you up for the rest of the night.

The car ride home is silent, dead silent. Carmy hasn’t said a word to you at all, and you don’t dare try and talk to him. You’re well aware you screwed up. You just aren’t sure what he’s going to do with you.

Carmy remains wordless as he parks the car in front of his apartment and heads to his door. You follow quickly behind him, watching as he digs in his pocket for his keys. Once he gets the door open, he walks straight to the couch to sit down, expecting you to close the door and lock up for him.

As soon as Carmy hears the lock click, he speaks in a firm, unwavering tone from where he sits on the couch. “Take off your clothes.”

His tone sends chills down your spine. He’s really fucking pissed. You walk towards him, standing right in front of the couch. “Carm, I’m—“ you begin to apologize, but Carmen doesn’t let you finish talking.

“I’m not going to repeat myself. Take them off. Now.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You remove your clothes as fast as you possibly can, not wanting to make him wait. You watch as Carmy sits up straight on the couch, slightly parting his knees.

“Bend over my lap,” he commands. Your legs move quickly as you bend over on his lap with your eyes facing the ground. His left hand hooks around your waist to steady you. His right hand rests right above your ass, lightly soothing the skin. “You were bad today. Talked back to me in front of everyone.”

“I’m sorry, Carmy. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fucking obvious you weren’t thinking. How can I expect those people to listen to me when my own girlfriend won’t do what I ask of her? You know better than that. I’ve taught you better.”

“It’ll never happen again. I promise.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure of that. You’re going to learn your lesson. I’m giving you fifteen spanks.”

“Fifteen?” you audibly gasp at the number. He has never punished you with so many spanks. The max before had always been less than ten.

“And you’re going to count every single one of them. If you mess up, I’ll add another one. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.” Not even wasting a second, Carmy’s hand strikes your ass. He’s not starting off easy. “Shit! O-one.” The next two spanks come one after another, hitting at different spots. Your body jolts in his grasp from the impact of each hit. “Two. Three.”

Carmy doesn’t give you time to think in between the strikes of his hand. Each one comes down harder than the one before it. The only sounds in the room are your strangled whines and the sound of his hand against your ass. You manage to count pretty well at first, but it gets harder as the heat between your legs increases.

“Are you getting wet right now?” He says before spanking you once more.

“t-ten.” It’s all you can say. Stringing together a sentence seems impossible.

“Are you already so stupid you can’t count and answer my question?” Carmy’s hand grips your raw skin as he spreads your legs to see for himself. He scoffs when he sees the wetness pooling between your legs, starting to make a wet spot on his pants. “You’re fucking dripping. You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Even my hands spanking you turns you on.”

He hits your ass twice in quick succession in the exact same spot. You cry out from the impact. Your skin is throbbing. “Eleven— Carm, please.” You beg, not quite sure what you’re asking.

“That was twelve. I guess you can’t even count right anymore. Now, I’m going up to sixteen.”

You tremble in his lap, holding onto his legs with a death grip. At this point, he’s lightened up on the force behind his hand. Carmy also directs some of the strikes on your upper thigh to give your ass a break. It’s completely raw from the spankings, red and pulsing with heat. You’re barely holding on when he delivers the last strike.

“S-s-sixteen—“ you gasp. Tears run down your cheeks as Carmy rubs the skin of your upper back.

“You did good, baby. You took that so well. Such a good girl. You just needed a little punishment to remind you who you listen to, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir. I’m so s-sorry Carm. I didn’t mean to make you so mad,” you speak through sobs. “I-I shouldn’t have done that I’m so sorry—“

“Shhh—baby. Calm down. I’m not mad at you anymore. You made a mistake and got punished for it. It’s all okay now. You don’t have to apologize again. I know you didn’t mean to upset me. Let me help you sit up, yeah? Need to see your face.”

With Carmy’s help, you sit up in his lap to face him. His hands cup your face, wiping the tears away with this thumbs. You get emotional in times like this, especially when Carmy looks at you with such adoration like he is right now. “I love you, Carm.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Can I take care of you now? I wanna make it all feel better.”

“Please. P-please. Need it,” you beg, feeling the his hard cock underneath you.

“I’ve gotcha. I’ll take care of you.”

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

Yeah im sorry for leaving this here but i gotta have room to expand on this idea later. Hehehe so expect a more full length one shot with all of this once again and more soon!!

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear smut

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littledollll · 8 months ago

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Ok but manipulative obsessive ballet teacher larissa keeping her star student after hours so they can focus on her technique in more ways than one

AND YOU JUST KNOW SHE’LL HAVE HER HANDS ON HER STUDENT AT ALL TIMES

It’s to help your form she says, definitely not just to see how flustered you can get

Private lessons

Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader

A/n: is this becoming a thing? I think it’s becoming a thing. I’m kinda obsessed, could be a little AU for us?👀 also I’d like to note that while I’m not gonna specify age in hopes of inclusivity, reader is around their mid 20’s.

HAH I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna have the ideas and motivation keep writing. Anyways, this is my last draft. Hope you enjoy!!

Warning: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, touching, sexual undertones, little bit of mean Larissa

_______________________________

“I will say this once and only once. At this level none of you should not need me walking you through every little step like the girls from baby ballet!” Larissa spoke loud enough to fill the room, before signaling the pianist to begin playing.

Everyone ran to form a line across the back of the room, you ending up fifth in line for the exercise. Perfect spot. Only four in front to watch, and be done quickly.

“However you’d like to start, give me four pique turns to the center, four changing fouettés, pas de bourree and close with a triple.”

One by one each student went. Some being sent back to start from the beginning if they messed up, some going without comment, very rarely did she praise anyone.

Your turn came, you started in a simple fifth position, spotting towards the diagonal which just so happened to be exactly where Larissa was standing. You had no trouble keeping your eyes on her.

“Thank you!” She said in a very clearly annoyed tone. “Finally someone who knows how to spot correctly. The rest of you should learn a little from this starting position. Go on, my dear. I apologize for interrupting your start.” You gave a short nod and began your sequence. Everything was going perfectly until the final part, where you failed to complete the third turn, but saved it by landing on fifth.

You quickly got up and were about to scurry back to the beginning but Larissa spoke up. “No need. You were perfect till the very end and at least saved it. Back of the line.”

You smiled, Larissa smiled back, giving you- a wink? Oh you must have been seeing things. She wouldn’t. What an odd thing it would be for her to do. Regardless, you nodded, looking down as you walked past her only for her to stop you in your tracks and tilt your chin up with her pointer finger. “A ballerina walks proudly. She floats with a straight back and gentle steps. Chin up, my dear.”

Surely she could see the dark red blush covering your cheeks, she nodded you off to continue walking, a smile still on her lips.

When she turned to continue the class, her smile fell, and the strict teacher was back.

When everyone was done with diagonal, she called back to center. “That will be all for today. Applaud yourself for the effort and I will see you all tomorrow.” She locked eyes with you as she spoke, before turning to talk to the pianist while everyone packed up and left.

“You. Stay back, my dear.” A few girls looked back, but she was very clearly talking to you. Her direct tone made it seem like you were in trouble, making your heart race.

“O-okay. Should I keep my pointes on?” You spoke as you stopped in the middle of untying the ribbon. “Yes, please do.”

“Is something wrong, ma’am?” You asked softly as you noticed her staring, watching you. She shook her head with a smile. “Nothing at all, darling. You’re a great student, I’d just like to give you a few pointers.”

By the time you finished tying your ribbons back on securely, and stood, walking over to her, everyone else was already gone, even the pianist. And Larissa had closed the door with the last one out.

“I’ll start with how you failed that triple turn. It shouldn’t be much of a difficult thing for someone of your level…” she mutters.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” You said, lowering your head.

Larissa stepped in front of you, so close you could practically feel her breathing as she once again tilted your chin up. “What did I say about ballerinas, sweetheart.”

You blushed at the closeness, this woman was beyond beautiful, and talented. Having her this up close felt like an honor. You felt so small next to her. “They walk proudly.” You answered.

“Good girl. So you do listen.” She stepped back and you immediately missed her presence so close to yours. “Fortunately for you, I do know what happened.”

She rounded you. “Get into fourth, give me a clean double.” You did as told, a clean double pirouette, finishing back in fourth position.

“Good. Now give me a triple, this time focus on what you’re feeling.” Again, you did as told and just like last time fell on the last turn.

“Do you see the problem?” “Yes- I think so.” She nods. “Tell me.”

“My heel is on the floor by the time I’m in the third turn.” She looked at you proudly for a moment. “Very good. You’re dropping your heel. When you do a double it’s no issue because you’re still high on pointe. But you’re turning in demi at the third. No dancer of mine turns in demi at this level. That’s for the little girls. Tell me miss, are you a little girl?”

“I- well- no of course not.” She hummed, bringing a chair in front of the mirror, centered in the room. She pointed at you to move to the center as well as she sat down, crossing her gorgeously long legs.

Any dancer would die for those. You’re sure she was the envy of the whole school back when she was just a student. “You’re acting like it. You turn like it.” Her voice brought you back in the moment.

“Anyone can do a simple turn. I’m sure the damn pianist could come do one for us. Anyone can do a double too. Any one of the juniors at this establishment could. You’re failing, at this age and this level. I mean you can do it, but you don’t do it well.”

“I can. I promise you I can. I’ve done it before!” You rushed to prove yourself to her. She was the last person on earth you wanted to disappoint.

“Well of course you have. You wouldn’t be in this level if you couldn’t pull off a simple triple turn. So what is it? Are you finding the easy way? Is this you being lazy, in my class, miss?”

You wanted to cry at just the idea of disappointing her.. and this was how she saw you? Some lazy brat in an advanced class while she was God herself to you? That wouldn’t do.

“I’ll help you, my girl. You dance beautifully, you move and project emotions the way no other can. But you’re falling at the basics. All the talent and emotion in the world won’t save you if you can’t pull off a good turn. Try to think of any important role to dance which doesn’t turn.”

“There’s not many..” you said quietly. You wanted to bring your head down again, truly, you felt shameful. You could do it, both of you knew that. But you weren’t, why is that? Larissa wondered.

“Not any, my dear.” She sighed, walking behind you. “I want you to try for four turns with me here. I will spin and support you. Just keep that heel up.” You nodded, getting into fourth, and doing a plié before starting your turns.

Larissa’s hands moved quickly around your waist, guiding you through every turn and stopping at the four count. “You’re very capable. You can spot well, you could turn ten times with me here, I bet. But I trust you know that there won’t always be a pas de deux in every show or every dance. There won’t always be somebody to help you turn.”

“Yes I know, ma’am.” She smiled. “Of course you do. You’re a smart girl, my dear.”

“You trust that I won’t let you fall, yet you’re not trusting yourself.” She said, squeezing your hips lightly as she kept her hands in place. “You have the strength to stay up, no doubt. Trusting yourself is just as important.”

“Let’s try to balance on pasé for a few, hm? Get your body comfortable with staying up for a longer time.” She stepped back.

Her eyes were racking over your body. You could feel it, it only made your blush grow deeper. “Slowly. Take your foot from the ground up to your ankle first.” You moved as she spoke, she seemed to approve of that.

“Up your calf… and above your knee. Do not rest it, now hold.” You were perfectly still once she told you to hold position, settling all the shaking in an instant.

“Your breathing cannot interrupt you. I want it to look like you’re not even breathing. Keep that rib cage closed tightly and focus. Imagine there is a string going straight through the center of your body, pulling you up toward the ceiling.”

You breathed slowly, barely. Not even thinking about uttering a word at this moment. “Turning is much easier than balancing. You have more momentum to stay up, and as long as you don’t move and exaggerated amount you can get away with not being perfectly in center with your body. Though you should be.”

You felt the warmth of her hands again. You could see her blurry in the mirror, trying to keep your face straight. You stared right into your own eyes.

Her hands were under your breasts for a moment, pressing down on your rib cage gently. “Tightly closed. Very good, my darling.. very good.” She whispered.

Larissa’s hands caressed your thighs before reaching your knee, spreading your leg a little more open. “I should be able to see you in one line if I were to look at you from the side. Keep your knee aligned with your shoulder.” She spoke softly, having no need for loud words as she was practically pressed up against you.

Your balance shook as she adjusted you, but she didn’t let you fall. Instead helping you find your balance once more before moving on. “You’re focusing too much on me. I’m not even here. Now rest.”

You sighed in relief as she gave that command, letting your pointe trail down your leg the same way it trailed up, until you reached fifth position and got off pointe, allowing yourself to rest.

“That was very good.. I would’ve been a little disappointed had you not done that. Half the girls would rush, out of sheer desperation but you.. you did that stunningly. A very good girl, you are.”

“Thank you, ma’am.. I’ll be honest, I do my best to impress you…” Larissa quirked her brow. “Is that right.. Well, lovely girl, you do a good job at it. Let’s get those turns right and I’ll be even more impressed, proud, even.” Larissa hummed as she traced down your spine with her long fingers, and then reached your skirt.

Shamelessly, she began untying it, removing the garment from your body and throwing it next to her chair. “That thing only makes seeing the things I need to see harder.” You nodded in agreement, feeling your skin heat up as she held your hips for a few moments much longer than necessary.

“We will work on your left side another time. For now I want to focus on getting that left heel to stay up.” She stepped back, moving around you to be in front now. “Give me a triple pirouette.”

You took a deep breath in, breathing out slowly. You moved into fourth position, doing a deep plié before you started.

This time, you stayed up longer, but let your heel fall by the end. Larissa sighed. “Again.”

It went on for some time. Each time you would get closer to doing it right, finally. “Again.”

“Let’s try something. Think about doing four. Set your mind, we’re doing four turns, but remember you’re closing, cleanly, on the third.” You nodded, feeling anxious about how many tries this has already taken. No doubt you felt Larissa was tired of this.

With the thought cemented on your mind, you went for four. Just keep the heel up for four.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three, close it!” You landed it right as she finished speaking, closing on a tight fifth position, your arms rounded and lowered around your bellybutton.

“Absolutely perfect. You did perfect, my dear. That was the cleanest I’ve ever seen you turn.”

“Why’d you count?” You said in a whiny tone and Larissa couldn’t help but chuckle. “You all hate it when I count. But it helped you, didn’t it? I’m just guiding you, my beautiful girl.”

You smiled, “yeah it did help..”

“Come, sweet girl.” With hurting legs you walked to her, standing in front of her with little idea of what exactly to do. But she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards herself, wrapping you in a soft hug.

It was certainly an odd thing to do, but her warmth was something you seeked.. and God, was being in her arms delightful.

She rubbed your sides gently, caressing over your soft leotard. “You did very well, my star. I want to see this progress shown in the next class, yes?” You nodded, nuzzling yourself against her neck without even thinking about it. And breathing in.. she smelled expensive, a little woody but also floral. You wanted to bathe in whatever perfume it was she wore.

“Very good, my girl. It’s time for you to get home.” You almost whined as you pulled away from her, and Larissa hushed you. “Change out of your pointes, and don’t forget your skirt. I have to close up here soon.”

You nodded, going over to your bag and quickly changing into your street shoes and some shorts. “Um, thank you, ma’am. For helping me and everything.”

“It’s a pleasure to help such a delightful student like you, always.” You blushed, waving a quick goodbye before practically skipping out of the room.

Larissa smiled as she saw it written clear across your face, she had you wrapped around her little finger. What a good girl you truly were.

#larissa weems #wednesday larissa weems #larissa weems x f!reader #gwendoline christie #larissa wednesday #larissa weems wednesday #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa

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meangirls-imagines · 8 months ago

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Hi bubby! hey, could i get a smut fic/imagine with top! regina teaching an inexperienced y/n sex stuff? y/n is all like "she is jst teaching me" but regina definitely has a crush on y/n and is taking the opportunity to make a move on reader?? lots of praise, size difference, thigh riding? pls? ^^ thanks

Sex Education

Description: Reader and Regina are partnered for a project in health class. Regina learns that reader hasn't had ✨spicy✨ time before and offers a helping hand to her crush.

WARNINGS: top!regina, bottom!reader, praise kink, size kink (regina is 5'10 and reader is 5'3), thigh riding (reader receiving), oral (regina and reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), regina has a mommy kink hehe, aftercare, regina is a warning herself.

18+!!!!!! Get your holy water. Amen

Regina George always got what she wanted.

New car? Her dad had it for her within hours.

New shoes? Same-day shipping.

New flavor of the month? She had a line of North Shore students to choose from.

The only flavor Regina wanted, was one she had never even thought of tasting until recently.

Y/N Y/L/N.

The girl was a nobody to everyone at North Shore, but as of lately, she was everything to Regina. The blonde had noticed Y/N one day in health, trying to keep up with Coach Carr's weird lesson plans.

The girl had been nibbling on the end of her pen, listening to the droning sound of the man's voice as he tried to explain condoms to the class. Regina's eyes stay glued to the girl's mouth the whole class, the blonde imagining the filthiest things.

She had told Gretchen to get as much information on the girl as she could for her, which thankfully for Regina, didn't take long. She learned that Y/N had moved to North Shore halfway through their freshman year, played softball, and was gay.

Regina could already taste the victory.

For the next few weeks, the blonde was obsessed with Y/N. Going as far as to stay after school and watch the girl workout with her teammates. Y/N was noticing the attention she was getting from Regina, as did her friends, but she shook it off as Regina just playing with her mind.

It all came to a head a week later, as Coach Carr read out Y/N and Regina's names to be partnered up. The blonde smiled smugly at Y/N, making her blush deeply. As the man explained their "project" (he told them to go watch porn and write a paper about it), Regina moved over to sit next to Y/N.

"So. I know you workout after school, but how about you come over so we can do this project and...get to know each other more?" Y/N couldn't do anything but nod. The girl had no idea what she had just signed up for.

Hours later, the girls were in Regina's room, the blonde scrolling through PornHub, trying to find a semi interesting video. Y/N was trying to figure out how to write an essay about porn when Regina spoke up.

"So, what's your preferred category of porn, baby?" Y/N blushed deeply. "O-oh. I don't watch it." Regina looked at the girl curiously. "Really? That's adorable, baby. I'm honored to take your porn virginity."

Y/N's blush got even deeper. Regina instantly noticed. "What's wrong baby? Are you embarrassed? Don't be. It's just porn." Y/N shook her head and tried to go back to her outline but Regina gently grabbed her chin to stop her.

"Are you embarrassed about something else, sweetie? You can tell me. We're friends now, this is what friends do." Y/N didn't think that was true but she knew Regina was right somehow. Y/N sighed and whispered.

"I've never had sex with a girl before."

Regina felt like she hit the lottery. Oh, she was going to ruin this girl. "That's okay baby. You don't have to be embarrassed. If you don't mind me asking, who did you lose your virginity to?" Y/N looked down at her lap. "It was Jack on the football team." Regina smiled softly at the girl. "Oh, you sweet thing. I bet he didn't even make you finish, did he?"

Y/N shook her head. "It was more of an enjoyable experience for him." Regina nodded and rubbed Y/N's arm, pretending to ignore the goosebumps that formed. "Well, I have experience in making girls feel good. How about I help you out? Make you experience how you first time should've gone."

Y/N hesitantly nodded and the blonde smashed their lips together. The kiss started out soft and sweet but Regina turned it into a fiery, passionate make out. She pulled the shorter girl onto her lap, hands automatically going to her ass.

Y/N moaned at the contact, giving Regina the chance to begin marking up her neck. "Fuck. You're gonna look so pretty with my marks all over you baby." Y/N whimpered and began to softly grind against Regina's thigh. The blonde smirked and grabbed Y/N's hips, guiding her.

"Oh, my sweet girl, you just need some relief don't you? Don't worry, Mommy will take care of you." Y/N felt heat shoot straight to her core as she tried to grind faster, but the blonde kept her pace. "No, no baby. I wanna enjoy this. I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else. You're only gonna want me. Understand?"

Y/N nodded. "Yes, Mommy." Regina groaned. "And such good manners. I'm keeping you forever baby. And since you've been so good, use Mommy's thigh to get yourself off and you'll get a reward."

Y/N began to grind faster, desperate to please the blonde beneath her. Regina watched as the girl rode her thigh like a mad woman. She smiled at the desperation in Y/N's movements. She put her hands up Y/N's shirt, grabbing at her breasts as the girl moaned loudly.

"Cum whenever you need baby. You're doing so good." That was the breaking point for Y/N as she stiffened, her orgasm washing over her as Regina whispered praises to her. Y/N slumped against the blonde, Regina kissing her temple.

"Take your time baby, we have all the time in the world."

Y/N was now on her back, fully naked, watching Regina strip. "Since you've been so good, I told you that you would get a reward." Y/N nodded excitedly as Regina slowly crawled up the bed, kissing her way up Y/N's body.

Y/N was curious to know what her reward was when Regina crawled all the way up to Y/N's face, her pussy on full display for the girl beneath her. "Mommy is going to let you eat her pussy baby. We're gonna do something fun."

Regina turned and straddled Y/N's face, still hovering. "While you eat Mommy's pussy, Mommy is going to eat your pussy baby. Sound fun?" Y/N nodded and pulled Regina's pussy closer to her face and began to eat her like she was her last meal.

Regina was caught off guard but moaned at the feeling. "Oh fuck. Such a good girl aren't you baby?" Y/N moaned and Regina leaned down and gently sucked Y/N's clit into her mouth, causing the girl's hips to buck.

Regina smirked and began licking and sucking harder. Y/N was moaning into her pussy and the vibrations sent shivers down her spine. They began to bring each other to a shared high. Regina wanted Y/N to cum before her, since she had been so good and expertly slid two fingers into Y/N's core.

The girl moaned loudly as the blonde began to pump her fingers. Y/N kept eating Regina's pussy as she desperately wanted the blonde to feel good. Regina could tell Y/N was getting close, as was she. The blonde spoke up. "You can cum whenever, angel. Mommy wants to make you feel good. You've been such a good girl."

Y/N felt the pleasure bubble burst as Regina's words took her over the edge, the girl cumming all over Regina's fingers. Y/N cumming so pretty for her set her off as she came hard in Y/N's mouth. They helped each other ride out their highs as Regina adjusted and laid next to Y/N.

She looked at the girl, who had her cum covering the lower half of her face. She looked blissfully fucked out as Regina smirked at her work. She leaned over and kissed Y/N, also licking her cum off her face, moaning at the taste of herself.

The blonde got up, smiling at the whine Y/N let out. "Hang on baby. I gotta get you cleaned up." Y/N unwillingly let Regina go to the bathroom to grab a damp towel.

The blonde gently took the towel and wiped between Y/N's thighs, cleaning the mess as Y/N twitched. "Shhh...baby. I'm almost done. My good, sweet girl. So perfect." Y/N melted into the mattress at the praise.

The blonde finished her job and cleaned herself quickly before grabbing clothes for her any Y/N. After gently wrestling Y/N into the clothes, the blonde walked to the mini fridge she had in her room and grabbed a water, a gatorade, and a banana and gently coaxed Y/N to take the snacks.

Y/N drank all the gatorade, three quarters of the water and ate the banana and Regina pulled the girl into her arms. "You did so good for me baby. My sweet angel. All mine, huh baby?" Y/N nodded sleepily. "All yours, Mommy."

The next day in school, dressed in a pink hoodie a size too big, and covered in a fresh set of hickies, Y/N walked with her new girlfriend to Health class. No one said a word when Regina pulled Y/N into her lap, whispering what their classmates assumed the dirtiest things in her ear, the two girls fully ignoring Coach Carr.

No one said anything about the new couple, knowing better than to ask questions.

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #top!regina #regina george smut

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mountainficss · 5 months ago

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idea: collegeboy!jeonghan type but it's minghao hoshi or shua instead

i’ve been thinking about this prompt and i can’t stop thinking about a collegeboy!minghao…

collegeboy!minghao who is very very quiet. he sits next to you in your biology class, but has never spoken a word to you. you can’t help but notice how pretty he is, glancing over every once in a while to admire his plump lips and pretty painted nails. every time you peek at him he’s always hyper focused on his work, his dark hair hanging like a curtain over his eyes. you’d do your best to distract yourself, ripping your longing gaze away from him to focus on your work. even though you’re trying your best to not think about the gorgeous boy next to you, you continue to wonder what it would be like to know everything about him.

meanwhile minghao wonders the same things about you. sitting next to you every day was the most heavenly torture he’d ever experienced. he gets to sneak glances at the pretty girl sitting next to him, studying every detail of your face and features. but he also has to deal with the jittery feelings he gets just by being in close proximity to you, trying his best to ignore the nervous sensations in the pits of his stomach. he also has to attempt to ignore the faint smell of your perfume, the sweetness only making his weak stomach twist more with anxiety, with nerves. he’s never even spoken to you, but he swears he’s memorized the shape of your lips, and he’s certain that he’s embedded the exact color of your irises into his brain. he almost feels your eyes on him every time you glance in his direction, and he tries to pretend it doesn’t get to him. he tries to act nonchalant, but his heart hammers in his chest and a wave of heat courses through his body solely from the thought of you. the urge to talk to you eats away at him with each passing day, but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to overcome his hesitance. until then, he’ll just keep thinking about you.

·𖥸·

you were stumped. you’d stare at your work with your eyebrows furrowed, slightly nibbling on the end of your pen as you try to understand the mass of information in front of you. biology was never your strongest subject, but you had always figured out the bare minimum of the lessons on your own. unfortunately, your luck had run out up to this point. you had no idea what was going on. you’d absentmindedly peek at minghao, studying his features for the millionth time already, and then trailing your gaze down to his hand. your eyes would widen at the sight of his practically finished work, and you were surprised to see how quickly he was writing down his answers. how does he understand this? you had decided to never again ask your professor for help, because the answers they provided only confused you more. now, you have another option. “i’m sorry,” you’d start quietly, watching minghao slightly turn his head towards you. “but do you think you could help me, please? i don’t understand this.” after a beat of silence, he’d give you the smallest nod and begin explaining his work to you. you can barely pay attention to his explanations, allured by his quiet voice and his gentle expression. you’d do your best to listen though, finding that his explanations make way more sense than your professor’s. minghao seemed so certain and sure of himself, and you were astonished with the ease he grasped the concepts.

but of course, poor minghao is not certain or sure of himself. he’s overthinking every sentence, over analyzing every expression you make. he’d wonder if you understood his explanations, almost positive you thought he was stupid from the little stutters escaping him occasionally. you just make him so nervous, and his well-developed composure evaporates from his body every time he even looks at you. his heart is hammering in his chest once again, so harshly that it feels as if it might break through his ribcage. “ahhh,” you’d observe, finally understanding the lesson now after minghao’s thought out explanations. “i totally get it now.” you’d gaze back up at the pretty boy, shooting him your brightest smile. you were beyond grateful for his help. “thank you so much, minghao.” you’d grin, receiving a shy “you’re welcome” from him in return. as you both refocus on your work, minghao would be reeling. the way you said his name sent a whole new swarm of butterflies to the pit of his stomach. he couldn’t help but blush when his name left your lips in such a captivating way. and oh, the way you smiled at him? he felt like he was going insane. time had seemed to pass quicker than usual due to his stray thoughts, and just as he’s grabbing his things he hears your voice calling his name again. “hey, minghao?” you’d utter gently, watching him whip around towards you. you couldn’t help but think the dark blur of his form whirling around was cute in a way. “yes?” he’d answer timidly, hoping his voice didn’t sound too small and pathetic. he can’t control it when you say his name like that. “do you…think you can help me more with biology sometime? i’ll pay you, of course,” you’d propose, feeling a bit embarrassed to have to ask someone for extra help. you knew it was either that or risk failing, and you would much rather pass. “you just make it easy to understand. but if you don’t feel like it, it’s really no pressure. i totally understand.” of course your question would send minghao’s nerves through the roof. helping you with biology? alone? with you? he’s positive his heart would explode. he’d swallow anxiously, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly from the movement. “you don’t have to pay me,” he’d hesitate, opting to shove down his anxiousness and take a risk. he wouldn’t let himself pass up an opportunity to spend time with his biology crush. you were too pretty to turn down. “when do you want to meet again?” your eyes would widen a bit in surprise. you didn’t expect him to even consider it, let alone actually agree. “whenever you’re free. i’ll go by your schedule since you’re the one helping me,” you’d decide. “my dorm or yours?”

“y-yours,” minghao would falter. he wasn’t mentally prepared to be flung into your dorm, where you live and sleep every day, but seeing you in his dorm would be worse. imagining you seated prettily on his couch or sprawled out on his bed would just make his brain develop more detailed daydreams of you. he doesn’t need to make things harder for himself. you’d open your phone, giving it to minghao so he could put his number in. “let me know when you want to come over, okay? i’ll text you in a bit,” you’d smile at him as he responds with a tiny “okay.” poor minghao would be so distracted in his other classes, thinking of you and wondering when you’d text him. he can’t help but be eager when he knows that his number is nestled in your phone and that you could text him at any minute. hearing the ding from his phone while he’s in his dorm would make his heart stop. you had texted him.

unknown: hi! it’s (y/n)

unknown: when’s a good time for you to come over?

the thought of him coming over to your dorm made his stomach twist again. he couldn’t help but be excited, even if he was just coming over to help you with biology.

minghao: hi 👋 i’m free right now if you’re not busy.

you: sounds great! come over whenever you’re ready :)

after sending him directions to your dorm, minghao would waste no time making his way there. he’d be at your door in less than 10 minutes, knocking softly at the wood and waiting eagerly patiently for you to answer. you’d open the door for him, flashing him a pretty smile and moving aside to let him in. minghao could feel his face heating up already. he truly felt like he couldn’t breathe around you at times. you were dressed so comfortably, changing your clothes from earlier and throwing on a large hoodie. your shorts were proving to be trouble for him, slightly riding up your thighs when you moved and leaving little to his imagination. “wanna come to my room?” you’d ask sweetly, missing the way minghao gulped nervously at your wording. he’d respond with a slight nod, following you to your room and trying not to admire your exposed thighs.

you’d plop down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs and patting the spot next to you. minghao would sit down cautiously next to you, clutching his biology notes in an attempt to ground himself. he had no idea why sitting on his crush’s bed felt so intimate to him, and he couldn’t help but blush a bit at the thought. “okay,” you’d begin, peeking at minghao’s notes. “where do you think we should start?”

you’d spend the next few hours with minghao going through all of his detailed biology notes. he’d help catch you up on the lessons you didn’t understand, explaining them in depth and answering all of your questions. no disrespect to your professor, but minghao explained all of the concepts way better than they ever could. you were thankful that you sat next to a pretty boy with such a strong understanding of biology. and minghao was thankful too! without biology being his strongest subject, he wouldn’t have an opportunity to get so close to his biology crush. (of course, he was only so good at the subject because he needed a distraction from his pretty seatmate. each class session he was invested in the lecture, solely because he needed a way to divert his attention away from you. you’d still find ways to sneak into his thoughts though, albeit without your knowledge <3) he was glad all of his hard work paid off, because now he has an excuse to meet with his biology crush :) he continued to hope that you would use only him for help, secretly wanting to get closer to you. now he finally had a chance!

writing a smutty continuation later of course, just want to start it off with a lil sweetness like i did with jeonghan’s <3

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

#thoughts #seventeen smut #seventeen #smut #svt smut #sub!idol #svt #xu minghao #svt minghao #minghao smut #minghao #mountainficss

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neuroticbookworm · 4 months ago

Text

List of Jane's best mentor/boss moments from The Trainee episode 3

aka the list of things that make him so irresistible to me that I am going feral on main on a Sunday afternoon

Jane admonished Ryan for being late and missing the production transportation, but he did not linger on it and immediately put him to work by giving him clear and concise tasks: keep the walkie talkie with you, keep the extras on standby and put your phone on silent

When he saw that Ryan's shoelaces were becoming a recurring problem, he just got down on his knees and solved it, giving us a little glimpse into his thoughts on seniority in the workplace and how ageist ego has no place in it

He was extra patient with Ryan when his phone continued to ring on set (@lurkingshan, @twig-tea, @shortpplfedup and I were screaming our heads off at Ryan and yet Jane continued to tolerate him)

Noticing Ryan's hesitation and offering to show him how to use the walkie talkie without him asking

Trusting the rest of the interns to run B-set

When the mean extra auntie tried to pull "I'm elder than him" nonsense, Jane shut that shit down, HARDDDDD. This is such an important lesson in Asian workplaces, because the social norms around age and the respect it demands can drown young people who enter the workforce. Jane spelling it out for Ryan that his age should not hinder him from doing the job was a powerful moment and one I have rarely seen in Asian dramas, to be honest. I think this is the moment the sex-o-meter caught on fire

He was open to ideas from his intern even during a high-stress situation and even implemented Ryan's idea of using one of the support service team members as an extra to finish up the shoot! If Ryan doesn't buy him a Best Boss Ever mug, I'm gonna be so mad at him

He covered for Pie and took the blame himself when the client expressed dissatisfaction (read: scolded everyone like children). He shielded her from the real-world-shitstorm-stress that would 100% be Too Much for an intern to deal with, while also teaching the interns the importance of teamwork and not throwing people under the bus

After wrapping up, Jane made sure Ryan did not leave the set feeling inadequate from his mistakes, and instead encouraged him to see himself as a cog in a bigger machine. Everyone's contribution is important, and no one in a team can work completely alone.

And finally, he told Ryan that he would not hesitate to apologize to him in the future if he makes a mistake. Because, say it with him now...

Jane is extremely competent and is a compassionate mentor, which makes him so fucking sexy that my braincells are constantly at risk of spontaneous combustion

#i desire this man carnally #if ryan does not *do* him justice i will grab him through my screen and whack him over his head #the trainee #the trainee the series #thai bl

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tmntxthings · 2 months ago

Note

(First of saw your recent ask with the anon and I hope you’re feeling a bit better since answering that! Please don’t rush to answer this or your other requests and i hope you feel better soon!)

I AM CHEWING ON YOUR DONNIE X READER WORKS OML BRO WHAT ARE YOU FEEDING YOUR INNER WRITER YOUR WORK IS ✨DIVINE✨ 😔👌

I cant resist making a request but you know Donnie flies/hovers with his battle shell in some episodes right to get around?? So what if Donnie having an s/o who is fascinated by the idea of flying, so one day, after much pestering Donnie gives in and decides to fly them around New York for a bit. BUT only if he is there with them, cuz Donnie is not about to have a stress induced heart

attack if they loose balance.

Donnie himself doesn’t really understand the fascination with flying cuz….well nothing is especially different, it’s just the city but from high up. But then mid sentence he looks to his partner and stares in silent awe at the fascination twinkling in their eyes as they admire the view??

I’m sorry I’m such a goddam sucker for this sort of stuff

一∑ Nights Like These 。・゜・

author’s notes: you paint a pretty picture anon, I could see it all play out thru my head! hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff, unedited

—————————————————————————

“Y’know what would be cool?”

Donatello blinked, his stare deadpanned. He was over this. You had asked so many times already. And each time, he had given you his answer. A resounding no. So he continued to tap at his phone while you sidled up next to him on the couch.

“Donnieeeeeee!”

A drawn eyebrow twitched. He wasn’t going to deign that with a response. You were being trivial at this point.

“Please!”

He let out a long sigh. Clicking his phone shut as dark irises finally turned in your direction. By this point it was clear you were never going to let it go. The word no, didn’t exist in your vocabulary. At least not when it came to the possibility of flying.

With his attention now on you, a speech was suddenly underway.

“I’ll do everything you say! Take a whole Donnie-training-course on how to fly a jetpack!! Just let me try! Please! Pretty please!”

You sure did know how to beg. Maybe it was unfair of him. But he didn’t like the idea of you in the air at all. You weren’t exactly known for coordination. You sucked at driving video games. How would you be able to command a jetpack that could go from zero to a hundred in seconds flat?

It was dangerous.

You could get injured or worse! There were so many terrible scenarios that ran through Donnie’s mind, he almost went back on his phone. But your hands latched onto his arm, pulling his thoughts back to the here and now.

“Nothing bad will happen! You’ll be right there beside me!!”

It was weird how you knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to sway him. Maybe his face was an open book, or maybe you just knew how to read him too well. This time his sigh was one of defeat.

You cheered.

After many, many lessons Donnie finally felt it was safe enough for you to put the jetpack on.

By this point you knew what all of the buttons did. All sorts of emergency protocols. And you may even be considered a certified pilot depending on the country.

Rigorous couldn’t even begin to describe what regiment Donnie had put you through. But it all paid off in the end. Because now you were strapped in.

“Alright, looks like it fits. How does it feel? I designed this one according to your specs.”

Donnie was circling around you. A hand underneath his chin as he looked for a reason to call the whole thing off. But you were on the moon.

“It’s perfect! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it. Finally!! We get to fly together!!”

How could he shatter that bright smile of yours now? He’d put this off long enough. So he nodded, and led the charge out of the lair.

“Remember, if you feel out of control—“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Don, I know! Stop and hover. Can I power on now?”

“No not yet we have to go through all of… Y/N!”

There was no patience left within you as Donnie kept talking so you just took off mid-sentence. He hollered after you. He took chase, his own jetpack roaring to life.

You were going way too fast. Donnie couldn’t tell if you were even under control! Just above the rooftops you flew by. Weaving past units and it became clear that you did know how to fly. His anxiety lessened but he still kept tailing you. Just in case.

At one point you slowed down enough for Donnie to be flying right by your side. Your smile dazzled him as you glanced over. Eyes twinkling in awe as you pointed out the bridge where Donnie and his brothers did the pizza box stacking competition.

“Race you there!”

You shouted and not a second later you were going max speed.

Now you may be a natural but Donnie had been flying far longer than you. The only advantage you did have was a slight head start. The wind picked up as the two of you flew higher. The finish line apparently being the highest point on the bridge.

Donnie won. He knew the best path to take after all from a projected route via his goggles. He watched as you made it to him. Slowing down and then circling him in the air while you laughed out in joy.

“This is amazing!!”

You exclaimed as you landed in front of him. It was high up, the wind whipping past the both of you. But the cold didn’t seem to affect your spirits at all. Your arms were raised in the air, back turned to him, whooping out for all of New York to hear. None of them would, not even the passengers in their zooming cars below. But Donnie could.

His heart did a strange thump beneath his plastron. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt a little breathless.

“Thank you! I- just, thank you for this! I never thought in my lifetime I’d be able to do something so… so..!”

The words were slipping from you as you had faced Donnie to express your gratitude. This was something that only happened in movies. That only happened in dreams! Your hands came up and moved in an expression that tried to convey how big this all felt to you. These emotions!

“We can do it again. However many times you like.”

Donnie replied after a moment.

You didn’t let the shock pass your features. You had wondered if he would let you fly again. So you had tried to get it all out of your system. Not knowing if the first would be your last. You smiled brightly for him.

“My worries seem to have been for nothing. You’re a natural at flying.”

A compliment. You could only smile brighter.

“Well, I don’t know about all that,”

And his mouth opened to argue. Not liking how you were putting yourself down. But before he could you continued.

“I had a great teacher!”

You mused at how his mouth snapped shut. His eyes darting away, a hand coming up to rub the back of his bandana.

“Really. He was the best! He’s too smart!”

He had to turn away as the compliments kept coming. Had the wind stopped? It was suddenly a bit warm up here. You had the nerve to giggle at his shyness before you powered up your jetpack again.

He turned immediately back to you, expecting you to take off again. But this time you hovered. Offering your hand to Donnie. He couldn’t help but take in the view. The night sky your backdrop, few stars even more satellites. But it was as if you were glowing before him.

His own hand reached out, fingers brushing against your palm, before taking a firm grip.

He held your hand.

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dead3ve · 5 months ago

Text

tasm!Peter Parker x shy!fem!reader

Summary: After Peter fails English, the teacher pairs him with the English whiz of the class. They, however, are very shy. After several lessons with them, Peter has only just started to gain full sentences from them, but has been pining over them for much longer.

Warnings: Reader uses they/them pronouns. no use of y/n.

Peter was meant to be reading.

He wasn't. He was staring. Listening to their fingers clack on the laptop in front of them.

They turned to him suddenly, seeing the book disregarded underneath Peter's chest as he leaned his head on his hands to look at them.

"Did you finish reading?" They asked, eyes still on the screen of the laptop. They spoke quieter than usual because the pair were in the library. It was unnecessary to Peter; they were already very quiet.

Peter couldn't even find it in himself to lie to them. He opened his mouth to answer and then closed it and opened it again. He released a guilty, breathy chuckle as he shook his head.

"I got halfway; I think." Peter spoke with a laugh still. His neck was warm in embarrassment for being caught ogling the girl.

The girl smiled at him, not minding that he didn't read the work. They passed him their notes and took his book and circled where he was going wrong and provided tips for where he went wrong. They gave Peter their book, hoping he would understand having all the information in front of him. The text was a difficult read. Even for the girl when they were sat next to such a pretty boy.

Peter hadn't really comprehended anything from the girl's book.

There were pretty arrows in all different colors and words that had bubbles and clouds drawn around them. He hadn't even read the summary they had written on the next page. The swirl of their 's' and the curve of their 'o' had made him flustered and distracted.

The girl looked back up once they were ready to give Peter's book back.

"Here." They'd closed the pages over their thumb so Peter could take the book and find the page. Peter liked that. "Tell me what that's about, Peter." They'd asked softly.

"Hm?" Peter looked at them after taking his book back. He gave theirs back gently before he could fake an answer. "It's about people..." He began. Peter then trailed off and looked back down at his pages.

Peter had the same swirls of color and words over his book now. He smiled as he looked at the pages, turning a slight pink in the cheeks. They were somewhat simpler than their notes. They had made it easier for him to understand.

"Anything else, Peter?" The gentle voice interrupted his internal monologue of "I love you".

He looked up at them like a deer in headlights. Suddenly, he had to ask a very important and academic question, so the deer-like daze was broken and turned into a charming smile.

"I think this would be easier if we did it at my place." Peter spoke in a whisper. He lowered his head to meet theirs when they looked away after the flirty statement.

The girl went red. Heat was warming their face from Peter's gaze and smile. They crossed their legs and looked at their laptop. "If I look at Peter for one more second, I think I'll faint." They thought to themself.

Peter mistook it for something else. Something negative and hurtful.

"I didn't mean it like that." He spoke quickly. "I meant so we could do the work at my place." He had taken their hand by that point. Squeezing it in reassurance.

That had disappointed the girl.

"Oh." They released the small noise sadly. "Okay" they closed their laptop and rested their head on their hand that wasn't in Peter's grip. Their eyebrow had knitted together slightly.

Peter's other hand found their face and his thumb met the middle of their brow and softly smoothed it. He didn't think he had flirted that badly.

"If you want, we can ditch the English work and watch a movie." Peter leant down again to meet their gloomy eyes as he whispered to them. The next part was spoken as if it was only for them to hear, "I asked because I thought you liked me..." he was growing quieter in his admission and he broke eye contact with them, growing nervous.

"I do!" They admitted it too loudly, with urgency and surprise. People in the library gave them dirty looks. The silent girl had broken broken the silence. They admitted it quieter the second time, saying, "I like you..." The girl searched for his eyes desperately, "Do you like me, Peter?"

He flicked his head up so urgently, his neck must've hurt. "Yes!" He spoke with a smile drowning the word. Peter squeezed the hand he was holding.

Suddenly, he stood from the table and started to pack up his things, packing them without care, scrunching things into his bag.

The girl was confused. They'd both just told each other they had feelings for one another. Why was this his reaction?

Peter had moved to packing their things, this time with gentle hands. He knew where all of their pencils, pens and highlighters went in their pencil case. He closed their laptop and put it into their case. That was when he looked up at the girl.

"What movie will it be?" He asked. He hadn't realised why the girl had stopped. He was so innocently unaware of the gravity his admission had on the girl.

"You like me, Peter." They were telling themself rather than Peter. They needed the confirmation more. Someone as kind as him had fallen for someone as quiet as them. They needed Peter to show them.

At that, Peter realised his fault. He put down their laptop that was now safely in its flowery laptop case. Peter brought his left hand to their cheek and lightly dragged his thumb across their cheekbone. His right hand had caught their hand and brought their knuckles to his lips.

He then whispered into their hand "I do." He pressed his lips again to their hand Peter then went back to packing their bag. "What was the movie?"

#tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #the amazing spider man #shy!reader #fem!reader

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kandlewick · 1 year ago

Text

i'll dry the villain's tears

t h e r o s e r e d t y r a n t ' s m o t h e r

you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.

You had died.

at least, you think you did.

It was hard to remember much.

Blinding lights, fading screams, it all felt so fuzzy and distant that you could hardly even remember your old face. The new one staring back at you was strange and foreign and perfect; it was almost like you were staring into the eyes of a doll. You pressed a well manicured nail to your cheek, feeling the soft skin give underneath your touch. So this is what she looked like. Bright red hair and piercing silver eyes, Riddle's mother made for an intimidating figure. You could only imagine how wicked she would look when angry despite her pretty looks.

You let out a soft sigh, leaned back against your chair, and attempted a smile at your reflection. The muscles around your cheeks creaked in protest at the attempt and gave you little more then a grimace.

"Not one for smiling, are you Mrs. Rosehearts?"

Well, whatever sickness that had overtaken the former Mrs. Rosehearts seemed to have passed and you no longer needed constant supervision from whoever Riddle had called for. Speaking of, where was Mr. Rosehearts? Surely her husband must've been worried sick once he had heard his wife had collapsed.

After a few moments of pondering, idly rummaging through drawers and inspecting every nook and cranny of what you assumed to be your new bedroom, you quickly discovered there was only a wardrobe for one. How strange. As you continued digging through your new and incredibly modest clothes, your hunt for clues was quickly interrupted by a sharp knock at your door. You dropped everything and let out a quiet shriek, feeling what felt like your heart quickly jumping in to your throat at the surprised new guest. Imwardly, you had to remind yourself that you were in fact, not snooping! This was your stuff now and could look through it all you liked. Quickly patting down your clothes and pinning back your frazzled hair, you attempted to compose yourself and cleared your throat, quietly acknowledging their presence.

"Uhm - yes! You may come in."

Whoever stood out your door seemed almost hesitant, waiting at the door long enough for the silence to slowly grow awkward, before the door let out a small click and they entered.

It was Riddle.

"I finished my lesson for the afternoon." Riddle spoke quietly, eyes never leaving the space behind your head, as if too nervous to even look at you, "If you would allow me, I'd like to take a small break to rest my eyes."

Here it was! Your moment! You had dreamed of this since the beginning and you could finally, finally make a difference and fix the broken relationship between him and his mother!! You eagerly turned towards him, feeling your skirt pick up in your excitement and ducked down, balancing your weight on the balls of your feet and lowering yourself down to his level.

"Actually, Riddle, how would you like it if we took a break together. I made us some tea!" You smiled, eyes crinkling in delight, "And then after that we-"

"No, thank you."

Eh.

What a quick response!!!!

Blinking past the surprise, you were startled to notice that Riddle had taken a few steps back, his eyebrows knitted together in what almost looked like confusion. You could feel the apprehension and barely disguised fear roll off of him in waves as he opened his mouth to continue.

"It's not time for a tea and I'd much rather get back to my studies as soon as possible.."

Yes, you supposed it was rather late in the evening for a tea time but it couldn't be that bad to take a small break to unwind after a tiring afternoon, surely! Bu then again, you realized, Riddle's mother always enforced a strict schedule. There was no time for snack breaks or play time, everything was chosen for him down to the very last millisecond of his day. Breaking this trend would not be an easy task. Mrs. Rosehearts made sure of that.

"Ah, you're right! Silly me..." You took this moment to reach out, intending to push back a stray hair from Riddle's face but he flinched. It was hardly noticeable and honestly, if you weren't down at his level and painfully aware of every twitch and fidget, you wouldn't have noticed but still, you felt your heart break a little more.

"Yes... It must be the fever." You sighed out, lowering your hand before slowly putting it back in your lap, "I must still feel tired after being in bed the past few days. Being stuck in my room must've made me a little mad."

Riddle made no effort to respond, only slowing raising his head. When his silver eyes met yours, you smiled and kept his gaze, "Would you do me a favor then, Riddle? I'm feeling terribly lonely and would like the company... however," You had to give him the option, "if you'd rather end your studying for the day and choose yourself what you'd like to do until your bedtime, you're more then welcome to."

As much as you wanted to quickly mend the relationship between the two of you, you knew you could not rush it. Years of abuse and tyranny do not go away with a single good deed and the more you tried to force it, the more you guessed he would push away.

Riddle paused and searched your eyes, looking for any signs of this being a test. He seemed almost hesitant to even ponder the choices before him as if he had never made his own decision before - with his mother's blessing no less - and wasn't eager to start now.

"I won't be upset, Riddle. You c-"

"I would like to have tea with you, please."

You mentally fist bumped the air, tears of success running down your face. Progress! This was progress, right? Willingly getting him to break his rigid schedule was already a huge undertaking but getting him to choose to spend time with you? You could practically hear the angels singing in your head.

Getting him to slowly and comfortably break his schedule was one thing but his diet? That was a whole other trauma to fight and you didn't know where to start. Unlike Riddle's mother, you weren't a doctor. Your knowledge of what was healthy and what was not and how to balance calories was never something you were taught past the very basics. Smugly, you figured she wasn't any good at it either so really, it could only get better.

It started with little things, replacing what kinds of ingredients you used and portions and the like and you spent many a nights on Magicam, researching food trends and advice from dieticians and other mothers. Anonymously, of course.

If Riddle noticed the change in his diet, he made no attempt to question you about it, probably enjoying whatever you were doing enough not to bring it up. You were his mother after all and although the dinner table was still quiet between the two of you, it was a more comfortable silence as if you were both too worried to break it. Watching him eat was also a treat. You had always thought Riddle was a pretty child, but to see sparks of life flicker behind his trained expression was a victory you always cherished. Sometimes it was small things, like him kicking his feet or the shock of trying a new taste. It was precious, watching him slap his palm to his face as he jumped in his chair, eyes practically tearing up at the taste of pepper of all things.

And then, one day, you decided that perhaps it was time. A strawberry tart.

You paced in your bedroom for days, practically digging holes into the floor as you plotted your next big move. This moment was perhaps the most important of all the other events that had happened in Riddle's life and you knew it was going to be a real big hurdle to cross.

"Riddle?"

He perked up slightly from his desk at the sound of your voice and turned to look at you. His eyes were brighter now and they no longer had the same fear they once had. His gaze could almost be described as affectionate.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to be out for awhile. not for too long mind, but I have something very important I need to do. I'm sure you don't mind if I leave you to yourself for a short while?" You gave him a sheepish smile as you made your way to the front door, your hand already reaching for the handle. As much as you wanted to do this and get it over with, you could still feel the nerves biting at your ankles.

Riddle nodded his head, his red hair practically bouncing with the movement, before returning to his studies while you closed the front door behind you, breath heavy in your throat. Days of planning were all coming together. You could feel the sweat building up and running down your neck as you took a few simple breathes to calm your racing heart.

Some might consider it obsessive but you had carefully studied That particular bakery and it's foot traffic to ensure that nobody else would be in the store to witness what was about to happen for the past two weeks. In disguise, you had watched and written down the hours there was a slow lull in visitors from out in the streets, careful not to attract any sort of attention. It's not like you were planning anything nefarious! It's just that... the thought of anyone witnessing the verbal smack down you were about to receive was almost too much. But you had to do this. For Riddle, for yourself, and because you really, really, really wanted to try one of Clover Bakery's sweets.

It was time.

"Welcome in! Welcome to Clover Bakery! I'll be right with you in a moment!" A feminine voice sounded like it was in the back as the door to the bakery slowly chimed behind you, as if it was the death knell, signaling your demise. You trained your breath, in and out, and wiped your sweaty palms on the back of your skirt, willing yourself to calm down. You had to be strong! Trey and both his parents deserved a proper apology, even if technically you weren't the one who offended them. You had to fix this mess and you couldn't do it half assed!

"Sorry about that! We just finished the new batch of - oh."

Trey's mother was in front of you.

Trey's Mother was in front of you.

"I..." Your heart felt like it was going to give out. "I've come to apologize."

That obviously is not what she was expecting and judging by the widening of her eyes and the tightening of her posture, she didn't seem entirely willing to accept it but she stood there and didn't seem unwilling to hear you out so in your haste, you tripped over your words in eagerness to continue.

"Please," You lowered your head and gaze, nearly buckling under the stress, "at least hear me out. What I did - to you, your husband, your son, to Riddle - It was unacceptable."

You gulped and began the part you had rehearsed in front of your mirror. This part, while not necessarily the truth, would make the most sense.

"When I couldn't find Riddle in the room where I left him and the window opened, I panicked. I had always been very strict with Riddle and perhaps that's where I erred, where he thought that the only choice he had to enjoy an inch of freedom was to sneak out while I was unaware, So, when I couldn't not find him and found him with strangers, people I had never met before and knew very little of, I panicked."

"But what I ended up doing," Something wet fell from your eyes, "I hurt him. I hurt Riddle. I - I think that's what snapped me out of whatever idiotic beliefs I had. He wouldn't talk to me, he couldn't even meet my eyes-"

"I understand,"

Blinking past the tears, you looked up, watching as Trey's mother let out a long and weary sigh, "I may not forgive you for what you did yet, I can see you obviously mean what you're saying."

"You can?"

"Look at you. You're shaking like a leaf, you look nothing like the woman that came screaming in here for her son. Whatever happened between then and now obviously changed things."

You watched as she ducked behind the counter and wrapped something up in a small container and gestured for you to open your hands.

"Here," She closed your hands around it, "It's a strawberry tart. Those were Riddle's favorite right? I'm sure you can help mend whatever happened with something like this. It's on the house. Just... next time Riddle wants to play, let him. My son has been beside himself with worry ever since."

You held the tart close to your chest like she had just handed you the most precious thing you've ever owned and nodded your head, your once formerly primed and proper hair falling down your shoulders in wave from your excitement, "Thank you! Thank you so much... I will do whatever I can now. I won't make the same mistake again."

"Go on," You smiled, "Open it."

As soon as you returned home, you eagerly called for Riddle to join you at the family table, nearly tripping over your heels in your excitement as you carefully placed the boxed strawberry tart down. Riddle watched your expression carefully, eyeing the concealed treat from the corner of his eye. As much as he's enjoyed the past few months, this was a huge step forwards. It was almost as if he was scared that what he thought was going to happen wouldn't. What if this was an elaborate scheme? What if this was a big final test and he failed? What if-

"It's ok, Riddle," You reassured him with a low voice, pushing the small box closer to him as his eyes snapped to meet yours, "It's something really good, I promise." With a nervous look, he nodded.

You could hear his barely contained sniffles as he slowly began untying the ribbon, stopping periodically to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve, before the box opened and in the center was

the most beautiful strawberry tart he has ever seen.

His small sniffles soon erupted into wails, high pitched and heart wrenching as he sat there in his chair, his hands still in the air as his little body was wracked with tears. You couldn't hold back your own crying as you brought Riddle's small frame to your chest and hugged him tightly as he cried and cried and cried in your arm. His little fingernails dug crescents into your skin as he kept tugging you closer and closer, unwilling for there to be an space between you and him.

"My darling, Riddle," You sniffled back a tear as you dug your face into his red hair, feeling him hiccup and sob as you did the same, "I'm sorry you had to wait so long."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland reader #isekai #riddle rosehearts #congrats your riddles mama #twisted wonderland #platonic reader

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